Dance Like a Girl: Brandon and Kym Wilde

Kym shoves Brandon into the middle of the room. Her eyes stay hard while his hands shake at his sides. "Dance," she says. He tries a few stiff sways and her cane cracks across his bare ass. The room echoes with the hit. Brandon stumbles, hips twisting in panic, desperate to look feminine enough to please her. Every missed beat earns another stripe. Sweat slides down his chest, nipples tight from the sting. Kym steps closer, cane resting under his chin, forcing his eyes up. "Pathetic," she spits, then swings again, catching the backs of his thighs. Brandon whimpers, arms flapping uselessly, trying to mimic the girlish moves she wants. Each failure feeds her hunger. She grabs his hair, yanks his head back, and lands the cane low across both cheeks in a final, bruising arc. Brandon gasps, legs trembling, sweat dripping onto the floor. She releases him and he collapses, red welts blooming across pale skin, still twitching in time to the music only Kym hears.