Angry Mistress ready for punishment
I stand here, my heels clicking against the floor, each step deliberate and heavy with intent. My eyes lock on you—slouched, defiant, that smirk playing on your lips as if you're above it all. Really? You think you're going to get away with this? With me?
I take a step closer, feeling the tension in the air. The silence is thick, broken only by the soft rustling of my leather as I move. I’m angry. Very angry. And when I’m angry, I don’t play games. I punish.
"You’ve been a very bad boy, haven’t you?" I say, my voice sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade. I can see the way your body tenses, that spark of fear you try to mask with bravado.
I cross my arms, glaring down at you. "Do you have any idea how much you’ve pissed me off? I gave you a chance—hell, I gave you many chances. But instead, you decided to test me, push every one of my boundaries, didn’t you?"
A soft, angry chuckle escapes my lips, but there’s no humor in it. "You thought you could get away with it, that I’d just let it slide, didn’t you?"
I step closer, and I can feel your pulse quicken. I can feel the regret in the air, even if you won’t admit it. "Well, newsflash, bad boy—I don’t let things slide. You crossed the line, and now you’ll pay the price."
I reach for the leather crop resting on the table, my fingers grazing the handle, and the sound of it cracking against the air sends a chill through the room. "You’ve earned this. And believe me, you’re going to feel every second of it."
Now… are you ready?
"You’ve been a very bad boy, haven’t you?" I say, my voice sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade. I can see the way your body tenses, that spark of fear you try to mask with bravado.
I cross my arms, glaring down at you. "Do you have any idea how much you’ve pissed me off? I gave you a chance—hell, I gave you many chances. But instead, you decided to test me, push every one of my boundaries, didn’t you?"
A soft, angry chuckle escapes my lips, but there’s no humor in it. "You thought you could get away with it, that I’d just let it slide, didn’t you?"
I step closer, and I can feel your pulse quicken. I can feel the regret in the air, even if you won’t admit it. "Well, newsflash, bad boy—I don’t let things slide. You crossed the line, and now you’ll pay the price."
I reach for the leather crop resting on the table, my fingers grazing the handle, and the sound of it cracking against the air sends a chill through the room. "You’ve earned this. And believe me, you’re going to feel every second of it."
Now… are you ready?
