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Anger spikes through me, and my hand lashes out and knocks over a cup of pens. They clatter onto the desk and then onto the floor. Matthew’s head whips around, and he sees me and he sees the pens. He sets aside the papers and stands. “Come here.”
I do, even though I’m nervous. Because he doesn’t look happy. His face is cold, stern, and I don’t remember seeing his face like this since I’ve been with him. Matthew crosses his arms. “Did you do that on purpose?”
I shrug.
“Verbal answers.”
“Kind of. It was instinct.”
“Why?”
I force out a breath. “Because I’ve been turned on all day and I didn’t come here just to sit around and do nothing.”
He nods slowly. “Strip.”
My blood freezes. “What?”
“Strip. Now. Until I say otherwise you’ve lost the privilege to wear clothes.”
I look down at the floor, shame filling me up to the brim. Not because I’m currently taking off my bra and handing it to him, but because I can feel his disappointment like it’s touching my skin. I push the boy shorts off my hips and let them pool around my feet. Then I hand them to him, but I still can’t meet his eyes.
“You will go to the playroom and you will kneel. And you will wait.”
“How long?”
There’s a beat of silence before he answers. “Until I’m ready. As your Dom, it is my responsibility to make sure your behavior and manners are corrected, but also that I never do so while I’m angry or frustrated. So you will wait until I am ready, and then you will receive your punishment.”
I swallow, finally meeting his eyes. He raises his eyebrows and I drop them again. “Yes, Sir.”
Thankfully, I don’t run into anyone on the way to the playroom. Even if the staff are prepared, I am not prepared to face one of them while completely naked. Despite the shiver of fear running down my spine, my arousal hasn’t dimmed in the slightest.
Maybe there’s a possibility that he’ll change his mind and fuck me instead of punishing me. There’s the tiniest whisper of a thought—that maybe I’ll like the punishment. That maybe the reason I’m still aroused is that I want this. But that…can’t possibly be true.
The playroom seems impossibly big when I enter it. Alone with the equipment, this seems entirely overwhelming. I find a spot in the middle of the room where there’s an empty spot of carpet, and I kneel. I remember his words from this morning, and I know that he’s going to see how wet I am the moment he walks in. God help me.
I’m honestly not sure how much time passes between when I kneel and when Matthew enters the room. I can’t see a clock, but the setting sun fades and the sky grows dark. When I finally hear his footsteps, my gut tightens with anticipation and fear. His shadow falls across me, and I fight the urge to look up.
“Hands,” he says evenly.
I lift them and he buckles the cuffs onto them and clips them together. He circles behind me and has me rise onto my knees as he does the same with my ankles. Lifting me to my feet, he carries me like I weigh nothing and settles us into the same chair we occupied yesterday.
“Do you understand why I’m punishing you?”
“I knocked over the cup.”
He shakes his head. “No. Trust is the most important thing in a Dom/sub relationship, but respect is almost equally important. If you have a problem you want to discuss with me, I’m willing to talk about it, but you don’t knock things over or act out. I’m punishing you so that you understand and remember that. The discipline aspect of this dynamic helps both parties purge their emotions and move forward—hopefully without the same mistakes.”
I hate, hate how much that makes sense. But it does make sense, and acceptance is swift and calming. “What are you going to do to me?”
And just like that, Matthew has me flipped over his knee. “I’m going to spank you. I’m not going to tell you how many times, because part of this lesson is that you need to trust my decisions as your Dom. And also because you need to accept my decisions. As the leader, I take responsibility, and you need to believe that I know what’s best and am acting accordingly.”
His hand smooths over my ass, and I shudder as goosebumps fly up my spine. “And after every stroke, you will say ‘Thank you, Sir.’”
“I’m thanking you for this?”
“You are,” he says, “for taking the time to correct your actions and invest in this relationship, even though you’re fighting it like hell.” Matthew sighs. “I don’t enjoy handing out punishment. I prefer spanking to be fun, sexy, and pleasurable. This will not be. You have permission to scream, cry, whatever you like.”
