I stare at the email on my screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Paulina’s response to my instructions drips with defiance. "Blue," she wrote. But it wasn’t in a text—it was in an email. She knew exactly what I wanted. And she knew exactly how to push back.
My phone buzzes on the desk beside me, and I glance down at the screen. Another message from her. "You can't make me do anything, Mykey." The words are bold, underlined for emphasis. A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. This brat thinks she’s untouchable, doesn’t she?
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “Paulina, darling,” I type, my tone dripping with calculated amusement. “You seem to misunderstand the situation. You see, I don’t need to make you do anything. I simply choose to give you orders. If you don’t follow them, well… let’s just say your little secret might not stay so secret.”
The cursor blinks at me, taunting me to add more. I hit send before I can change my mind. The reply comes almost instantly. “What secret? You don’t have anything on me.” Her bravado is impressive, but I know better.
“Is that so?” I respond, typing quickly. “Then why did you agree to meet me tonight? Why did you even bother answering my emails if you think I’m bluffing?”
There’s a long pause this time. Long enough for me to imagine her pacing, biting her lip, trying to figure out her next move. When the reply finally comes, it’s not what I expected. “Fine. I’ll come. But only because I want to see how far you’ll go.”
I chuckle softly, leaning forward to grab my phone. “Good girl. Be here by 8. Wear something... appropriate.”
The clock reads 7:59 when there’s a knock on my door. I rise from my seat, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt as I stride across the room. When I open the door, Paulina stands there, looking every bit the defiant 19 year old Teenagershe is. Her eyes are wide, full of challenge, but her posture is slightly tense, betraying her nervousness.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside to let her pass. She hesitates for a fraction of a second before walking past me, her scent hitting me like a wave—something floral mixed with the faint tang of sweat. I close the door behind her, locking it for good measure.
She spins around to face me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Alright, Mykey. What’s so important that I had to come all the way here?”
I take a step closer, invading her personal space until I can feel the heat radiating off her body. “Oh, Paulina,” I murmur, my voice low and dangerous. “We both know why you’re here.”
Her breath catches, but she tries to hide it, lifting her chin defiantly. “Enlighten me.”
“Your father’s business dealings,” I say, watching her reaction closely. “He has some rather... questionable practices. Practices that could land him in serious trouble if they were to come to light.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I can see the gears turning in her head. “And you think blackmailing me will keep that from happening?”
“Blackmail implies coercion,” I correct her, taking another step forward. “This is more of a... friendly reminder. You see, I have all the proof I need. And if you refuse to cooperate, well, I might just have to share that information with the wrong people.”
She takes a step back, her back now pressed against the wall. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” I reply, sliding my hand up her arm until my fingers brush against the strap of her dress. “Or maybe you’d like to see how much power I really have over you.”
She swallows hard, her eyes darting to my hand before meeting my gaze again. “You don’t scare me, Mykey.”
“No?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I trace the line of her collarbone with the tip of my finger. “Then why are you trembling?”
Her breath hitches as my fingers dip lower, slipping beneath the fabric of her dress to caress the soft skin just above her breasts. “Because I’m not used to people like you,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper.
“People like me?” I repeat, my tone mocking. “People who demand respect? People who expect obedience?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her chest rising and falling rapidly as my fingers continue their slow descent. “But I won’t be controlled.”
“We’ll see about that,” I murmur, my thumb brushing against the swell of her breast. “Now, tell me. What color are your panties?”
She bites her lip, hesitating for a moment before replying, “Pink.”
“Wrong,” I say, leaning in so close that our lips nearly touch. “They’re blue. And you know what happens when you lie to me, don’t you?”
Her eyes flicker with uncertainty, but she remains silent. I shift my weight, pressing my body against hers as I wrap my hand around her throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who’s in control.
“Answer me, Paulina,” I command, my voice firm. “What happens when you disobey?”
She swallows again, her pulse quickening beneath my fingertips. “P-punishment,” she stutters, her defiance crumbling under the pressure.
“Good girl,” I praise, releasing her throat and trailing my hand down to her waist. “Now lift your dress.”
