Mykey stands in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on the X marked on the floor with tape. The leathery office chair sits behind him, a throne for his dominance. He gestures for Paulina to stand on the X, and she hesitates, her defiance flickering in her eyes.
"Now," he commands, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down her spine. Paulina steps onto the X, her heart pounding in her chest. Mykey looks her up and down, his gaze lingering on her defiant expression.
"Take off your clothes, piece by piece, and tell me you're a silly little brat who should behave better," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Paulina’s hands tremble as she reaches for the hemPaulina’s hands tremble as she reaches for the hem of her dress. She pulls it over her head, exposing her pale skin to the cool air. "I'm a silly little brat," she mumbles, her voice barely audible.
"Louder," Mykey demands, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
"I... I'm a silly little brat," she repeats, her voice stronger but still tinged with resistance.
She undresses slowly, each item of clothing dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Her bra follows, revealing her pert breasts, nipples hardened from the cold and tension. "I should behave better," she adds, though the words stick in her throat.
Next, her dress slides down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties. Mykey's gaze darkens as he takes in the sight of her, half-naked and vulnerable.
"Apologize," he says, his voice a command that brooks no refusal.
Paulina bites her lip, her pride warring with her fear. "I apologize, sir," she finally admits, her voice trembling. "I will be better."
Mykey nods, satisfied for now. "Good. Now, those panties."
Paulina hesitates again, but the look in Mykey's eyes makes her move. She slides her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushes them down, stepping out of them and standing before him completely naked.
"Kneel," Mykey instructs, pointing to the floor in front of him.
Paulina drops to her knees, her body tense and ready for whatever comes next. Mykey walks over to his desk, pulling out a roll of duct tape. He returns and rips off a length, wrapping it around her mouth, gagging her with the thick material.
The world narrows to the sensation of the tape against her lips, the muffled sounds of her own breathing filling her ears. Mykey kneels in front of her, his face inches from hers.
"You disobeyed me, Paulina," he says, his voice calm but dangerous. "And disobedience requires punishment."
He rises, pulling her to her feet by her bound wrists. He guides her to the center of the room, where he has set up a series of restraints. Mykey secures her wrists above her head, chaining her to the wall. Her legs are spread wide, ankles tied to two metal rings in the floor. She is completely immobilized, at his mercy.
Mykey steps back, admiring his handiwork. "Let’s see how long you can last," he murmurs, almost to himself.
He picks up a riding crop from the nearby table, testing its weight in his hand. Paulina's eyes widen as he approaches, but there is nowhere for her to go.
The first strike lands across her ass, the leather tip biting into her flesh. She gasps against the gag, the pain sharp and immediate. Mykey watches her reaction, noting the way her body tenses and then relaxes.
"One," he counts, delivering another strike, this time lower on her thigh.
Paulina whimpers, the sound muffled by the tape. The pain radiates through her, mingling with the humiliation of her helplessness. Mykey continues, methodically marking her skin with the crop, each strike precise and unrelenting.
By the tenth strike, tears are streaming down Paulina's face, mixing with the sweat that drips from her forehead. Her body trembles, muscles tensing and then quivering under the onslaught.
"You’re strong, aren’t you?" Mykey taunts, running the crop along the curve of her hip. "But everyone breaks eventually."
He delivers two more strikes, one to each cheek, watching as she arches her back, trying to escape the sting. But there is no escape, only the relentless application of pain and control.
"Please..." Paulina manages to mumble through the gag, her voice desperate and pleading.
Mykey pauses, leaning close to her ear. "Begging already? I thought you were stronger than that."
She shakes her head frantically, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please... own me," she whispers, the words barely audible even through the gag.
Mykey's fingers pause for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considers her plea. "Own you?" he echoes, his voice low and dangerous. "You think this is about ownership?"
He steps back, the riding crop still in hand, and circles her like a predator eyeing its prey. Paulina's breath hitches, her body trembling with anticipation and fear. The room feels smaller, the air thick with tension.
"Let's see how much you can take before you truly understand," Mykey murmurs, raising the crop again.
The next strike lands with precision, this time across her already reddened ass. Paulina gasps into the gag, the pain sharp and searing. Mykey doesn't give her a moment to recover, delivering another strike, then another, each one more intense than the last.
Paulina's body writhes against the restraints, her muscles straining as she tries to escape the relentless punishment. Tears stream down her face, mixing with the sweat that beads on her forehead. Her breaths come in ragged gasps, the gag muffling her cries of pain.
"Do you feel it, Paulina?" Mykey asks, his voice calm but commanding. "Do you feel the sting? The humiliation?"
She nods frantically, her eyes wide with desperation. Mykey's gaze softens for a brief moment, but then he hardens again, raising the crop once more.
"Good," he says, delivering another series of strikes, each one calculated to push her limits. "Because this is just the beginning."
Paulina's body arches under the onslaught, her mind a whirlwind of pain and submission. She can feel herself breaking, her resolve crumbling under the weight of Mykey's control. But there is something else too—a strange sense of release, of letting go.
Mykey pauses, watching her closely. "Are you ready to submit?" he asks, his voice almost gentle.
Paulina nods, her head bobbing up and down, tears streaming unchecked. "Yes... please... own me," she whispers through the gag, her voice barely audible.
Mykey's lips curl into a satisfied smile. "Very well," he says, setting the crop aside. He reaches up to undo the restraints, his touch surprisingly gentle as he frees her from the wall.
Paulina collapses into his arms, her body trembling with exhaustion and relief. Mykey holds her close, his dominance now tempered with a rare tenderness. "Welcome to your new reality," he whispers in her ear.
