Afterglow

Morning burns through the afterglow of our newly sacrificed virginity. His first night at my feet, and already there is a need for discipline at hand.

I gaze into the mirror, needlessly adjusting the perfect chignon. His silhouette is a blur in the background of my peripheral vision as I focus on his mark. The smooth white column of my neck is broken by a haze of mottled red, blemishing my skin and his service.

The slightest wrinkle of disgust pinches my lips. He will answer for this humiliation befitting an errant boy undisciplined in restraint and proper respect for his Mistress.

He approaches noticing my fingers lingering and inspecting.

Turning away from the reflection, I shatter any remaining vestiges of pleasure from our night. Holding his gaze as my hand moves fierce and quick across the stubbled flesh of his cheek, cracking the haze of adoration in his eyes and echoing throughout the silent hotel room.

Reflex puts his fingers tight around my wrist.

Defiance keeps them there.

Generously, I allowing him the chance to return to his proper place. Our gazes lock as I raise a single brow and wait for submission to return to his eyes.

Strong fingers flex against delicate carpal bones and I watch my lover boy fall away, the heat of my handprint reflected by the challenge in his eyes.

He is not the one, despite our night of debauchery. And he obviously does not know his place with me. But that can be taught. We will see.

My knee comes up quick, hard against flaccid flesh, both loosening my wrist and placing him at my feet. Stealthy stilettos stab the carpet as he gasps on the floor, “Please Mistress, forgive me, please, please...”

As the door slams behind me I purr, “We will see.”