Oh, you little brat.

You really think just cuz I'm new to this that you can get away with that?

Making me wait? Drawing me out? Testing my patience?

Tell me, babygirl, what about all those times you waggled that thing right in front of me when you knew I couldn’t touch it? When you knew I had to sit there, still, aching, starving for you?

And now you have the nerve to demand a better apology?!

Fine. You want one? You’ll get one.

But you’re going to have to earn it.

Bend over, babydoll. Right here, right now. Just like you commanded me to do.

One thing we can agree on: that riding crop won't do. Like you said, why should it get to feel you? Fuck that.

I want to feel you. I want my hand on your bare skin. I want to hear the sound it makes when I punish you proper.

One. For all the teasing.

Two. For dangling something in front of me you knew I wanted but couldn't have.

Three. For the way you knew exactly what you were doing to me — and kept on doing it.

Four. For making me question everything, knowing full well that you're driving me mad.

Five. Because it just feels so fucking good to put you in your place.

And now, babydoll? You have exactly five seconds to decide. Are you ready to be a good girl? Or is time to find out just how perfectly I fit?