Mistress Sandy

Kneel. Right in front of me. You freeze like you’ve forgotten what obedience costs. I don’t ask twice. When you hesitate, my voice tightens. “Running from my command only makes the punishment sweeter.” I lean back, spread my legs so you can see exactly where you belong, and the smooth, heavy curve of my ass presses into the seat. My fingers slide down the front of my tiny skirt, pulling the fabric aside. Nothing beneath. Just skin, warm and already slick. I circle my clit slowly, letting you hear how wet I am, how ready I am to use my own body while you watch and learn. Blonde hair spills over one shoulder. My thighs flex, ass shifting, hips rolling in a lazy rhythm as two fingers dip inside and come out glistening. Every wet sound is for you. Every sigh. Every measured breath. You’ll kneel still, quiet, aching, until I decide you’ve learned what it means to serve.