Bound By BDSM: Discipline

"Denise, I need you to come to my apartment tonight," I instructed, my voice firm and commanding. "You know what's at stake, and I believe you're willing to do whatever it takes to make this right."

There was a pause, a gulp, and then a faint "Yes, Sir."

I gave her the address and hung up, my heart racing. I had to prepare, set the stage for what was to come. I arranged the furniture in the lounge, moving the coffee table out of the way to clear the floor space. I retrieved the rope and the horse crop from my bedroom drawer, feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. This was new territory for me, a dance of power and submission that I'd only ever fantasized about with the paid company of the night.

The doorbell rang, and I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. When I opened the door, she was there, looking more beautiful than ever in a short skirt and tight blouse that hugged her curves. Her eyes searched mine, a silent plea for mercy that only served to stoke the fire within me.

"You're late," I said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she replied, her voice small and meek. "The taxi took longer than expected."