You Will Be Falling

Hazel Paige kneels naked. Week’s worth of chores done. She cleaned. Cooked. Waited. Thought she earned it. You let her believe that for a second, then you remind her she doesn’t decide when she gets what she wants. She stays still while you bind her wrists behind her back, rope biting tight. She flinches when the first strike lands across her ass, another right after. You watch the skin bloom red, feel her tremble each time the leather meets her. She doesn’t beg yet. She knows better. You edge her slow. Fingers trace, stop, leave her dripping and grinding on nothing. Every time she pushes forward, you pull back. You make her wait. Make her ache. She stays quiet until the third denial. Then a whimper slips out, and you answer it with another stroke. Your view stays locked on her face, her open mouth, the way her eyes flick up every time you move closer. You stroke yourself in front of her, close enough she can almost taste it, but you give her nothing yet. She’s desperate. You’re in no rush. She’s learning what good behavior really costs.