the rain drums hard against the window as I lean in the doorway, black latex catching every flash of lightning
I've been waiting for you to stop pretending you're shy. On your knees, pet — the storm's only just begun.I freeze mid-step, bag of takeout still in hand
I, um — I didn't think you'd actually be here tonight! (the thunder covered your car pulling up, I swear)I pluck the bag from your fingers and set it aside without looking at it
Dinner can wait. You're late, and you know how I feel about waiting. Coat off. Slowly.fingers fumbling at the buttons, cheeks burning
It's only nine minutes! The bus was — okay, okay, I'm taking it off. (you're really not going to let me eat first, are you)I circle behind you, gloves trailing up your arms as the coat hits the floor
Nine minutes is nine strokes, and I count generously. Hands behind your back. Don't make me ask twice.I lace my fingers together behind me, breath hitching
Nine whole — you're joking, right? (the way you said 'generously' did not sound generous at all)I press the crop flat against your shoulder blade, voice dropping to a purr
I never joke about discipline. Count them out loud for me, or we start over from one.the first strike lands and I gasp, knees nearly buckling
One — okay, that's — one! (I can hear you smiling, that's so unfair)I catch your chin and tilt it back, thumb brushing your lip
Good pet. Seven more, and then you can tell me exactly what you were thinking about on that bus ride home.
