She nods. “I was working. I’m co-hosting a benefit for a foster youth organization,” she explains. “We’re holding a casino night with all the proceeds going to the charity.”
“That’s a great idea,” I nod. “Plenty of rich people with big egos looking to prove something at the tables.”
Isabelle smiles. “I’m counting on it. I’ve just been making some updates to the site.” She turns her screen around to face me.
The website is glossy and tasteful. “It looks great,” I say approvingly. “Did you create it?”
Isabelle flushes and shakes her head. “God, no, I can’t do something like this. I just told the technician how I wanted it to look.”
“You are a great designer,” I tell her gently. She does this so often, puts herself down. She doesn’t realize the talents she does have. “Were you with Olivia and the other girls?”
A shadow crosses her face. “Yes,” she says hurriedly.
I pause. Slowly, I sit down opposite her. Every move I make has to be strategic at this point. It doesn’t matter that I crave her body, and need her to be naked and spread for me already. I need to maintain our boundaries. My control.
“What else happened?” My voice is casual. I watch her response.
Isabelle looks away. “Nothing much.” Her tone is bright. “I wanted to get straight back and work on the website.”
“Isabelle.” My voice is a warning. Still, she refuses to meet my eyes. “Tell me.”
“I told you everything you need to know,” Isabelle snaps. “Is this a conversation or an interrogation?”
“Both,” I reply calmly. “I’m asking you a question. That means you tell me whatever I want to know.”
Isabelle stares back stubbornly. “And what if I don’t want to?”
“Then you’ll require a lesson in obedience.” I stand. This is unacceptable behavior from any sub. And if I let it go, she’ll never learn. I cross the room and stand over her.
“Get up.”
I see another flare of stubbornness in her eyes. I glare back.
Isabelle looks away first. She gets to her feet, still reluctant.
“Go upstairs,” I order her softly. “Take off your clothes, and get on your hands and knees over the bench. Wait for me there.”
I hear her breath hitch. Now, there’s desire in her gaze. “Yes, Master,” she breathes, clearly excited.
She practically scampers into the hall and up the stairs. I take a moment, watching her go. She thinks this will be fun for her, a sexy game, but it’s so much more. We’re only beginning her instruction, but she needs to understand that I’m serious. There is no place for disobedience.
My will is absolute.
I decide to take a shower and change, and leave her waiting for twenty minutes or more. The anticipation of pleasure or pain is a powerful tool, and by the time I slowly climb the stairs and push open the door, Isabelle is flushed with excitement, on her hands and knees as I required.
She’s taken off her clothes, but she’s not naked yet. She’s wearing lingerie and a pale pink silk slip. Gorgeous. Her full breasts swell under their lacey cages, her rounded ass inviting my cock.
I close the door and turn the lock. She jolts, breathless at the sound.
“Each time you defy my command, you will be punished,” I tell her sternly, pacing closer. “There’s no room for fear or disobedience in this relationship. Follow the rules, and I’ll reward you. Break them, and suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Cam,” Isabelle whispers. One sharp look at her and she immediately corrects herself. “I mean, yes, Master.”
“Very good. Now, because you have been childish, I’m going to have to punish you like a child.”
I can see the anticipation on her face, the nervous mix of excitement and fear. I remind myself that she’s an innocent: she’s never had someone teach her like this before. Her only experience with pain was when Brent flogged her at the club, and that has nothing to do with her needs.
I need to show her the pleasure that can walk hand in hand with pain; introduce her to the delicious sting of sensation that only heightens her pleasure.
And remind her who’s boss.
I order her firmly. “Crawl to the bench and lift up your skirt.”
Isabelle quickly complies, hiking her slip up over her hips and exposing her creamy buttocks, divided by a lacy thong.
God, she’s a fucking goddess, every Dom’s fantasy brought to life. Innocent and stubborn, her body crying out for my hand.
I stroll over to the carved wooden rack where I keep my tools. I feel Isabelle’s eyes burning with curiosity as I stroke along their handles. “What should we use today?” I muse, knowing the delay will only add to her heightened state of anticipation. “A flogger? My riding crop? A whip?”