My word is law. Simple. My girl knows the rules, knows her place beneath me, eager to please. Usually. But lately, there’s this spark of defiance, a brattiness testing the edges of my control. She’s pushing, seeing how far she can go before I snap the leash tight. Part of me wants to break that little rebellious streak, remind her exactly who’s in charge with the kind of punishment that leaves her trembling and utterly mine. But another, darker part… wonders. Does she want more than correction? Does she want me to let her push past the limits, just so I can drag her back harder, claim her deeper? Watching her unravel, seeing that raw need flicker behind the defiance… it’s a goddamn test of my own restraint. She thinks this is her game? Fine. Let her play. Let her surrender everything — mind, body, soul. Because when she finally breaks completely, the question won't be if I'll own her. It'll be deciding how permanent the mark I leave will be.
