Don't get me wrong, sweetling, it's cute when you're a brat. Not right now. Not when I have a raging storm in my head and violence on my lips and fingertips.
That's why it's so sad I'm sitting here across the room teaching you a lesson. I would love to have my hands on you, but you like that sweet pain too much. I could make you black and blue and bloody, but that would just turn you on even more.
So here we are. Your wrists tied behind your back to your ankles, kneeling and pouting. I'm meticulously loosening my tie and unbuttoning my cuffs to roll up my sleeves.
I hope you realize, angel, it's not that I just want you to be obedient. We both need you to obey. To submit and bend to me until you break so I can put you back together again. Now the most important question: Are you ready to done with time out? Let me here you say "My apologies, papi." Otherwise, you stay here and I'll just got into the next room and pleasure myself and you'll have to hear it and miss out.