You Flinched. Again.

How many times must I remind you?

Look at you.

Bare.

Your wrists restrained, ankles spread and bound tight, so beautifully exposed. The tension in your body betrays your mind’s failure to surrender. And yet, it’s your eyes I’m watching.

Because I told you not to close them.

The moment my crop cracks across your thigh—just a whisper from your cock—you gasp and flinch again.

“You disappoint so easily.”