As always, Im focused on work, eyes locked on the computer screen, when something or rather, someone catches my attention. Her. My little rebel. She struts past me with a defiant air, dressed in a way Ive never seen before: fishnet stockings and a miniskirt so short it barely covers anything.I freeze. I look up.Where do you think youre going dressed like that?With my friends, she answers, meeting my gaze with a challenge.Absolutely not.Back to your room. Now. You have homework to finish.But she resists, pushing boundaries, acting like shes in control. Thats when I realize she needs a reminder of her place.Without another word, I grab her by the wrist and pull her in front of me.You need a lesson, you little slut.I pull her across my lap, lift that shameless little skirt, and expose the cheeks begging to be punished. My hand comes down, firm and steady, again and again. Every slap is a reminder, every flush of red on her skin a sign of my authority.I wont stop until she knows in this house, things go my way.
