I’m still not entirely sure what exactly he did to me in that bathroom… It all happened so fast. The way he grabbed me, bent me over, told me what to do without asking twice. There was no room for questions – just heat, control, and the kind of pleasure that leaves your legs shaking. Every slap, every thrust, every word felt like part of some twisted lesson I didn’t even know I needed. But one thing’s for sure: I didn’t want it to stop. If this is what “discipline” feels like… maybe I deserve to be corrected more often.
