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 You know you’re dirty. Your red lips pout and your smile widens.
I follow your curves – the black lace across your breasts a tattoo of
my desire. You dress nice for me. You take time, bend over the bathroom
sink, your heels high. You slip on your long dress, smoothing it over
your figure. You linger over your breasts, feeling their generous
curves under your touch. From my chair my shallow breath sounds loud.
You make me watch. The bathroom door open just enough to let me see you.
In the seedy bar below us the bass line begins, a heavy beat as
tonight’s DJ kicks in. It seems to echo my hard heartbeat. From the
hotel window I see the neon sign flashing ‘Vacancy’ into the shadowed
night. I shrug my leather jacket off and loosen my tie. Above me a lazy
fan turns, in slow circles, pushing through the heat.
You come to me, your heels clicking on the wooden floor. You sway,
you move smooth. You lower yourself to my lap, straddling me, feeling
the pressure of what I’m packing. Arch an eyebrow in approval. You lift
your wrists and show me, show me your submission, whispering nasty
secrets in my ear. Who you’ve been seeing, been flirting with. Who
you’ve taught a lesson to ... and how.
I let you talk as my hands begin teasing open your buttons, stroking
your blushing skin, my fingers travelling your shoulders, your soft
arms, then finally your tender breasts. I bend to kiss them, teasing
the firm nipples in my warm mouth. My naked need for you betrays me as
I tremble. You talk. Your stories graphic and sexy. Your pretty skin
tensing. You know what’s coming. You are ready.
I tell you I am angry. Very disappointed all my training has gone to
waste. I tell you I already know. I tell you I have photographs.
Recordings. I have proof of what a bad grrl you have been. I murmur –
you have one last chance to prove yourself.
I am the one that snaps the handcuffs shut over your willing wrists.
I am the one that gently ties the blindfold. I am the boi that lifts
your lithe body to the bed, and lays you down, restrains you. I am the
boi that teaches you a lesson in return. All night, all night, while
the DJ throws music into the hot air, masking your cries from the
street below.
For many years we have played this game, you and I. Different hotel
rooms. Different cities. You call me and I arrive. Meet you there.
Carrying that same soft leather bag you like, full of toys and games
and tools to please you. To punish you. To take you whatever road you
want to travel.
You know you’re brave. You travel these brave roads with me. What I
take. What you give. What I surrender. The trust I earn. And always you
show me, you are worthy of my lesson.
Lexi K
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