Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
“What if I don’t want to?” The moment those words left his lips, they shattered the careful dynamic of our session. My gaze became icy and fixed, watching the way he instinctively shrank as his eyes widened in fear. He knew better than to speak without my permission, yet his tongue had proven unruly.
I circled him, savoring the onset of a hunt, with my hands clasped firmly behind my back as I surveyed the pathetic tension radiating from his naked body. When I finally stopped directly in front of him, I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. I simply tilted my head, looking down at his bowed crown with a mixture of disappointment and calculated authority. “Do you truly think your opinion is something I require, especially when it is offered so carelessly?” I asked, calmly.
Permission
The submissive posture he adopted served as a silent plea for mercy that I wasn’t quite ready to grant.
I reached out, tracing the line of his jaw with a single, manicured nail, watching him shiver under the light pressure of my touch. He was trembling, not from cold, but from the raw anticipation of what was to come. I leaned in close. “Are you scared?” My breath ghosted against his ear as I whispered.
“You’ve clearly forgotten your place and it is my unfortunate burden to remind you,” I murmured. I walked toward the heavy oak side table where I kept my instruments for such an occasion. The sound of leather meeting my palm echoed through the quiet space, in a sharp, singular report that made him flinch. I wasn’t just disciplining him for the sake of it; I was recalibrating his focus and stripping away the arrogance that had prompted him to speak out of line.
I forced him onto his knees, with his little old man hands folded neatly over his thighs as he stared at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes now that the reality of his punishment had set in. The first strike was precise and clinical, and was designed to sting far more than it wounded. He let out a sharp gasp, as his fingers dug into his knees, but he remained braced and still, exactly as I had trained him to be.
“Next time,” I said, coldly, “you will remember that your voice is a privilege, not a right.”
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
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