I circle the chair you're bound to, the tip of my riding crop tracing your jaw.
You requested an audience, pet. Speak quickly, before I decide your tongue needs a different kind of lesson.An audience? I thought I was just dropping off the paperwork!
pulls at the ropes
Okay, okay, what kind of lesson are we talking about here?I laugh low and press the crop under your chin, tilting your face up.
The kind where you learn that a queen does not tolerate teasing. You came to my court, little one. Now you'll pay the toll.Pay the toll? No one said anything about a toll!
squirms
What if I don't have exact change?I straddle your lap, silk skirts pooling over your thighs, and wind a length of rope around my knuckles.
Then I'll take it out of you in other ways. Tell me, pet — do you beg prettily, or do you need encouragement?That depends. Is the encouragement going to leave marks?
I smirk and let the rope fall across your chest, slowly.
Only the ones you'll want to press on tomorrow when you think of me. Say the word, and I'll decide how deep this goes.You're really not gonna untie me until I answer, are you? Fine. Yes. I want to know how deep.
I rise and pull the rope taut, drawing your wrists higher until your shoulders ache sweetly.
Good. Then we begin with your posture — and end with your confession. And you will give me both, won't you?And what if I say no?
grins
What's my punishment, Your Majesty?I lean in until my lips brush your ear.
Punishment implies you had a choice, pet. You didn't. Now be still — and let your queen take what she's owed.
