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He still couldn't believe he had lost the bet. No way he woulda thought she could've taken out more walkers in the yard in two minutes than he could. He was pissed at himself for taking her bait to begin with. He'd gotten so used to being the resident badass walker-killing machine that he hadn't bothered to consider that Michonne had actually been on her own in this hell for longer than he had and had come out on top. Still, being bested by a chick rankled him to no end, especially when it had been so close.
He hadn't been paying attention when they tried to figure out what to wager. It never crossed his mind that he could lose. Neither really had anything of value to the other. He had offered to take on some of her chores, but her idea of payback had been a little different. He guessed it was because he had been such a cocky dick to her about it.
"I ain't worried, sweetheart," he had said offhandedly. "You might be fast with that little pigsticker, but you ain't no match for me."
He was just shit-talking like he would before any contest, but apparently it had gotten under her skin.
"I'll tell you what," she had drawled, putting a hand on her hip. "I win, I get to bend you over and beat your ass with this little "pigsticker". How's that?"
"Whatever, " he had shrugged, not taking her seriously in the slightest.
Now they were alone together in the empty cafeteria. Luckily it was early enough that no one else was down here yet. But it wouldn't
be for long.
"Come on, " she said, motioning towards one of the long tables, "You afraid I'm gonna hurt you?"
"Nope, " he said huffily. "I just...it's a stupid thing to bet."
"Wasn't stupid when you thought you'd win, was it? " she asked, obviously amused as hell at how uncomfortable he was. "Now bend over that table and take what you got coming." She slapped the sheathed katana into her palm a few times as she waited, watching him.
He shook his head, "No way, man," he said, "I ain't doing it."
"Hmm. I guess I'll just have to let everyone know that you lost a bet and chickened out because you were afraid of a little pain."
He wished he had a witty way to make light of this and get out of it, or find an argument out of it without looking like a pussy, but his mind was completely blank. She was obviously just having some fun with him, but for some reason it was making him feel like an idiot and get all nervous. He really didn't know what the fuck his problem was.
He didn't know what would be more humiliating, going through with it or reneging on a bet and having to hear about it, or worse, have others hear about it.
So finally he turned around and bent over the table.
"What are you waiting for?" he snapped, when it'd been a few seconds passed.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she crooned.
"What?" he huffed, exasperated.
"You ain't gonna feel anything through those jeans are you?"
"What, you wanna look at my ass? That wasn't part of the deal."
"If I just wanted to get your pants off, there are some other ways I could've gone about it," she said smoothly. "Stop being such a pussy."
"Fine." He undid his jeans and lowered them just enough, leaning into the table so that they didn't fall down around his ankles.
"You can take those down, too, " she said firmly from behind him, as he still left his boxers up.
"You want it that bad you can take 'em down," he snarled at her.
Michonne stepped right up to him then, and slid his boxers down nice and easy. Shit, he really hadn't expected her to do that and now he couldn't pull them back up without looking even weaker. His face flushed so red it felt like it was on fire.
"Mmm,mmm,mmm," she murmured behind him. "Now that ain't nothin' to be ashamed of."
"Just get it over with, " he growled, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a hole right now. "I ain't got all day."
She made him wait like that for a few more seconds, catching him off guard with the first blow, which was so hard it made him gasp out loud. He was furious at himself for that, but fuck, she hit harder than he expected. She kept right on going, one blow after another with the flat of her sword, like she had a rhythm going. After ten his ass was stinging something awful.
"Alright, I think we're done, " he said, his voice catching a bit as she struck again in mid sentence.
"I'm going for twenty, unless you're ready to say you can't take it," she said lightly.
He stayed put as she delivered the final ten. By seven he was almost squirming but he'd be damned if he'd make another sound.
"All done," she announced. He could almost see the satisfied smile on her face as he went to pull up his pants. Sonofabitch, he swore to himself, as he realized somehow he had wound up with an erection. He prayed like hell she wouldn't notice that part, even though she had come up alongside him since he hadn't turned around. It was bad enough he was blushing so hard he couldn't even look at her.
"You ain't gonna be lucky enough to best me again, just so you know," he warned sullenly.
"Next time, it'll be thirty, and I won't be going as gentle," she said, her voice husky and smooth as she fixed her dark eyes on him steadily.
She turned on her heel then, and walked sinuously out of the cafeteria, leaving him speechless and confused. He heard footsteps in the hallway, and soft voices, the prison coming alive with the new day.
He grabbed his crossbow off the table and went to hurry out before he had to talk to anyone like this. His ass was still burning and the only thing he wanted to do right now is hide in his cell and get rid of this embarrassing hard-on. And hopefully he'd be able to do it without thinking about what might happen if he did lose another bet to Michonne. That would definitely not be something he'd want to try and explain to himself.