Ryan

 

 

 

The perplexed look on her face when I walk over to the dresser to fetch the black delrin cane from the top drawer is priceless. She’s already experiencing a lot of discomfort because of my hand, and I can only imagine how fearful she is right now, wondering what I’m going to do to her with the cane.

The pink blush on her ass cheeks is proof of my punishing touch, but it’s not angry enough-looking to leave a scarring mark.

I’m sure this will change soon enough.

Even in her fearful state, she’s smart enough to keep moving.

I watch in silence while she tries her best to please me, striding up and down the length of the room in her unfamiliar stilettos. Her face is tense with concentration as she tries to balance in the awkward shoes and obey my order to never avert her beautiful eyes from mine.

I can forgive her for not being able to walk in these shoes. It comes as no surprise that someone so tall refrains from wearing heels, no matter how pretty they may look in them.

But I can’t ignore her slouching posture, the pained expression on her face, and her awkwardness and insecurity.

“Walk tall,” I command her. “Head high, shoulders back.”

She inhales audibly, but reacts by straightening her back and gaining height, all the while keeping her gaze focused on me. Her back is arced slightly, pushing her tits out.

“Beautiful,” I praise her. “That looks so much better on you, doll.”

The hint of a smile flickers across her face.

But as soon as she turns to walk back on the imaginary runway, she starts slouching again, her shoulders slump and her whole body seems to relax, giving in to the instinct to make herself become as small as possible.

That’s when she earns the first blow with the cane. I strike it across her already flushed ass cheeks, just before she turns around again. The cane hurts a lot more than my bare hand, and her reaction doesn’t surprise me the least bit. She shrieks out in pain, her hands flying back to protect her aching ass. She stumbles and almost falls.

“I can still see you even when you’re walking the other way,” I remind her. “Don’t let your posture go just because your face is turned away from me.”

“Fuck,” she breathes out through the pain, and because her hands are still covering her rear end, the next blow hits her lower, on the back of her thighs.

Another agonizing shriek escapes her lips, but this time, I have to jump forward to catch her, so she doesn’t fall and hurt herself.

I catch her in both of my arms, wrapping one of them around her upper body to pull her into my arms. She casts me a confused look, her anguished eyes tear-streaked from the sharp pain I‘ve inflicted upon her. The blows were hard enough to leave a mark, but probably not vicious enough to break her skin.

When our eyes meet, I see the pleading expression she shoots me.

“Please, master,” she whimpers. “Not that.”

“I told you, doll, disobey me and you’ll be punished. You brought this on yourself.”

She bites her lower lip.

“It’s so hard,” she whines. “I’ve never walked in high heels before and –”

“It’s not about the shoes,” I interrupt. “I told you before that you’re beautiful, my doll, but you don’t want the world to see it.”

She scrunches her eyebrows as she tries to interpret my words.

“You’ll learn,” I assure her, squeezing her barely clothed body against mine as I claim another kiss from her lush lips. She’s too close, feels too soft, and smells too good for me to resist.

Her lips part willingly for me, inviting my tongue to dance with hers in a sensual embrace. I can tell that she’s trying to lure me in for more, greedily begging for me to touch her, to fuck her. Anything but make her parade in front of me like a circus animal.

So impatient.

Her lips follow mine when I end our kiss, and her eyes are laced with yearning. The feeling is mutual. My cock is aching for her, pushing against its fabric cage with a painful craving, especially now that I’m holding her in my arms, naked, vulnerable, and so hungry for me. I pull her against my crotch to feel my hardness, letting her know how much I want her.

She moans deeply and casts a seductive smile at me. That little minx.

“Now, let’s try this one more time,” I tell her, relishing the sight of her face falling when she realizes that the runway training is not over yet.

I release her, backing away from her with deliberately slow steps. It allows her to stare at my erection visibly bulding out against the front of my trousers. Yearning and desire is written all over her pretty face, as she gapes mesmerized at the sight of it. She winces when I clear my throat in an attempt to remind her of the first and most important rule – to keep her eyes locked on mine – and she finally redirects her eyes to meet my gaze like she’s supposed to.

There are questions filling her eyes, questions she doesn’t dare ask.

Why are you doing this to me?

Why can’t we just fuck?

“This is what I want you to do,” I say, answering her unspoken questions. “Remember, you’re here to please me.”

I know she wants to roll her eyes at me, but she doesn‘t, making a conscious effort to impress me.

I know I won’t be able to break her habit of hiding her beauty overnight – it’s something she’s been doing for years of slouching – but I want her to understand what it is I’m trying to teach her. I want her to grow under my guidance, as short-term as it may be.

I want her self-confidence and poise to blossom under my supervision. She deserves to feel as beautiful inside as she is on the outside, and I want her to portray that beauty to the world and everyone in it.

And, truth be told, it’s just so much sexier to play with a girl who knows how beautiful and vibrant she is. I will earn her submission, and she will earn the pleasure that comes with submitting to me, and not only through the money I pay her. It will be earned by teaching her how she should be treated – how she deserves and needs to be treated.

She just doesn’t realize it yet.