My friend Lily and I dont let anything slide. Once again, the slave broke one of our rules and this time, the punishment takes place outdoors, on the terrace. Theres no better setting: open, quiet, perfectly suited for making him feel every second of humiliation under our full control.We drag him out without ceremony. Hes already in position, ready he knows exactly whats coming. I move in, hand raised, but Lily stops me with a half-smile: Too easy make him suffer a little more. Shes right. Rushing would be a mercy he hasnt earned.So we start slowly, pulling on his ears, stretching the moment, locking eyes with him while he bites his lip to keep quiet. Then come the slaps one after the other, taking turns, Lily and I. No mercy. Just the rising rhythm of our pleasure in disciplining him.At last, we make him kneel. Face to the floor, absolutely silent. And right there, with elegance and precision, we deliver the final strikes with the soles of our stilettos. Slow. Controlled. Just enough to make the message sink in.Only then, as he stays motionless on the ground, we exchange a satisfied look.He got the message.And we never even had to raise our voices.
