You come home late after an evening out with the girls. Still a little tipsy, you open the door and are almost to the blinking answering machine when I speak.
"I've been waiting for you,"
You turn and see me sitting in my chair, the leather one that I bought just to have at your apartment. The one that reminds you so much of the evenings we share. The one you are not permitted to sit in. Ever.
"I was out with some friends," you tell me, voice hesitant. You probably aren't lying to me and weren't out fucking some stud, but it's more fun if I don't believe you.
"You're lying,"
"I am not," Defiance!
I measure my words to you carefully, "You do not ever contradict me. Ever. Now come here,"
I point to a spot in front of me and hesitantly you obey, starting to kneel when I stop you.
"Spread your legs,"
They part, your body language still defiant. Inwardly, I'm smiling because I love these little 'fights' we have where you try and wriggle free; attempting to carve out a tiny bit of space to gain control over me and losing every time.
You stand, feet spread widely apart, making you look even more defiant though your hands are at your side. Crossing them probably came to your mind, but was discarded. Slowly I run my hand down the inside of your bare thigh to your calf. I love your legs. Your calves are perfect, tapering down to dainty ankles and quite lovely feet. I can be particular what you put on them, especially if we are to go out, and tonight you are wearing a strappy Mary Jane heel that I particularly like.
Shiny from a recent shave, soft skin slides under my hand as I run it up your leg and under your dress making you shiver. I stop at your panties, moist warmth radiating through them. You're not wet. Not yet. You haven't been out fucking after all. I say so.
"I told you I was-"Yanking your arm hard, you fall to your knees finally forced to look up at me.
"And I told you to not contradict me you little cunt," I hiss at you, "Obviously, you need correction,"
I stand, still holding your wrist and point at my chair, "Kneel in front with your head down," You hesitate again, "NOW!" I yell.
You haven't seen me like this before and fear finally comes to your eyes. You do as instructed and I slip a blindfold over your eyes, and then flip your skirt up. Black, lacy panties; the good ones. You said didn't get laid, but your underwear says that you would have if you could. I yank them down over those perfect ankles of yours.
I pause a moment to look at you; with the lights low, your head is in shadow but I can hear you trying to calm yourself by measuring your breath. Your beautiful ass is in a perfect position. I unbuckle my belt, and then pull it off in one motion; the hissing sound makes you tense. You know what is next.
SNAP. My belt cracks against your ass and you cry out.
SNAP. A red welt appears as another stroke comes home.
SNAP. You bury your face in the seat of the chair, hands gripping the edge of the cushion tightly.
