I walk up to her. Her head hangs slightly over the mattress. I look down at her.
“You know, I might have to reconsider the entire safe word thing,” I threaten her.
“We both know you won’t,” she says, and I close my eyes and breathe out, before I forget myself.
“Fifteen,” I say, and my hand grasps under her head to get a grip of her hair by the scalp, and when I do, I pull.
She screams and tries to fight me, but I use the movement to push her onto her belly.
I pull her down the bed, and she lands on her hands and knees.
She squeals and fights, but I am done with this pestilent behaviour. It is senseless and against what we agreed on. A word is a word. And those words gave me one day, where she is the most obedient submissive there is. One day a week, every Saturday.
It has a single reason she does it. Because she wants me to leash out. She wants me to call her names and degrade her because she gets off on it like no one else.
I drag her into the bathroom.
“You have ten minutes,” I say when I throw her onto the floor. “Remember, good girls get what they want; bad girls won’t be able to sit for a very long time.”
She lies down on the bathroom floor and giggles.
Breathe,I tell myself.
Antonella crawls out of the bathroom exactly ten minutes later. Dripping wet. Leaving a trail of water behind her.
It takes all my willpower not to laugh, because she knows her art. She grew into something I never believed possible.
She kneels in front of me. I can see in her eyes that she knows exactly the effect it has on me.
“Present your throat,” I say, and she lets her head fall back.
I put a collar and leash around it.
“Walk,” I say as I get up.
I walk her downstairs into the living room, where I have prepared a chair with a particularly nice idea I got from Kat.
“You will sit on that chair,” I say, pointing at the glass chair with the glass fist and arm on it. “And you will fuck yourself with the glass fist as long as I deem fit. You will get a mask, because I will have guests over.”
She looks at me as horrified as someone can look.
“You are kidding with the guest,” she says.
“You should be aware that I rarely make jokes,” I say.
I take a hairband and braid her wet hair. Then, I take the mask, a full face latex mask with cat ears, and pull it over her head. I tug and pull so she can open her mouth and get enough air through the nose, but she can’t see anything.
“Now,” I say. “Sit.”
“I’m not wet enough for that,” she says.
“Not my problem,” I say.
“You promised spanking.”
“I changed my mind because you seemed to enjoy it too much.”
“Spanking would make me wet,” she says, and I shake my head slightly. Minchia, questa femmina!