not sure 🤔

"You started a food fight in a soup kitchen.  Do you not even care how disrespectful that is?"

"I told you I didn't wanna come to your dumb religious bullshit.  Shoulda listened to me..."

Izaak pinched the back of my arm with his gigantic fingers, squeezing enough to make me squeal.  I blushed when someone across the street saw the scene.  "I'd forgotten how low you'd go to rebel against authority."  He started walking, pushing me along with him.

"Yo, let go!  Someone's gonna think you're a domestic abuser.  And cops don't go easy on us brown people."

He didn't listen, but loosened up a bit, leading me to the pharmacy before he finally let go.  "Stay close or I will have to hold your hand like a baby."

I rolled my eyes.  "What are we doing here?  Why ain't we doin' anything fun?  Come onnnn you said after volunteering..."

"Quiet, or I will take you to the restroom to silence you." 

My lips snapped shut, unsure if he was lying, but not wanting to test it to find out.  I stayed at his side, not really paying attention as he wandered through the store.  That is, until he stopped and turned to look at me, glancing at my waist.  I realized that he had stopped right in front of the diapers and a flash from our earlier conversation appeared in my mind.  

"Wait... you were serious?"

Izaak's narrowed eyes scanned for a size he thought would fit me, then he tossed the package to me.  "Somehow I'll get my point across."

My face warmed, mortified.  "No way... that wasn't part of the deal..."

"You're not going to lawyer your way out of this one, kiddo.  Don't submit and lose the bet.  Your choice."

We stared each other down a moment longer, then I sighed in resignation.  He could only embarrass me if I let him.  "No way am I going down that easy," I laughed (nervously).  

I stayed behind as he finished shopping and checked out, lost in a web of thoughts about how I could break Izaak and win the bet (because I couldn't let my mind daydream about how I was about to be punished).  With items bagged, I followed him out of the store, naturally heading in the direction of his apartment.  But because I was so in my head, I didn't realize there was a "Don't Walk" signal and a car was coming towards me until Izaak grabbed my hand and jerked me out of the way.

"You really are a child," he said, half-humored, half-annoyed.  I tried to wiggle out of his large hand but his clasp was too tight.  

"You can let go now.  You've made your point," I said with an eyeroll. 

Izaak didn't look at me, or answer, or let go.  He just waited for the light to change and then dragged me along at his side like I was a middle schooler getting dragged home from a party.  

He literally held onto my hand until we arrived at his apartment, stopping in front of his building to look me in the eyes.  I couldn't stand still, dramatically flailing my hand about and complaining about how hard he was squeezing... so he swatted me on the butt!  Right there in front of the security camera and everything.

"When we get upstairs, you will shower and change into your pajamas.  I expect you in front of me ready for your punishment in twenty minutes, not a minute later, understood?"

Still rubbing the sting out from the earlier swat, I nodded, suddenly not interested in pushing his buttons.  

Izaak inserted the key into the lock, pulling the door open and showing me in.  As I climbed the stairs, my heart raced and my throat was dry.  My fantasies about winning the bet weren't able to overcome the fear (and excitement?) of what Izaak was going to do to me.