You knew what you were doing, didn’t you, Alexis? You wore that orange lace just to see what I’d do. To see if I’d let it slide… or make you pay for it. But good girls don’t play games like that — not with me. So here you are, standing in front of me. Your blouse is off. Your skirt is on the floor. Those perfect stockings still cling to your thighs like the obedient girl you pretend to be… But that orange lingerie? It was your mistake. And now, you’re going to feel what disobedience earns you. I make you keep it on. I want you to remember what got you here. I bend you over the desk — the same one you sat beside in your leather chair like a little tease — and I slide my hand between your thighs. You’re soaked. Of course you are. Being caught has only made you needier. You whisper, “I’m sorry, Daddy…” But sorry doesn’t wipe the smirk off your lips. So I spank you. Once. Then again. Then harder. Each slap a reminder that when you break my rules, your body becomes mine to correct. You try to hold still, but your hips are trembling. You want more — you always do. So I make you say it. “Please, Daddy. Punish me. Use me. Make me yours again.” And I do. I slide into you slowly, filling you until your breath catches. I don’t let you move. I hold you there — deep, aching, still. You whimper, you plead, your body tight around me as I take back control. Every thrust after that is a lesson. Every sound you make is a confession. You love being brought to your knees for me. You need to be reminded who you belong to. And when you’ve taken it all — every stroke, every spank, every command — I wrap my arms around you and lay you down softly. You’re shaking. Breathless. Messy. But you’re mine again. Fully. I kiss your forehead. I stroke your thigh. I whisper into your ear, Good girl, Alexis. My perfect little rule breaker.