Mr. Blackwell [18+ BDSM 🌶️]

The Lesson Begins

"Strip."

The word hung in the air like a commandment, and Lily froze where she stood, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She blinked at Mr. Blackwell, trying to process what he'd just said.

"Excuse me?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with defiance.

Mr. Blackwell tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he smiled—a cruel, dangerous smile. "I said, strip. Don't make me repeat myself, girl. You're already skating on thin ice."

"I'm not your girl," she shot back, fire flashing in her eyes. "And I'm not taking my clothes off for you."

His smirk widened, as if her disobedience only amused him. "Fourth mistake," he said softly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt with slow, deliberate movements. "But by all means, keep talking back. It'll make punishing you that much more enjoyable."

Lily's pulse quickened, a mixture of fear and anger boiling in her chest. "Jacob has lost his damn mind if he thinks I'm staying here with you. You're insane."

In two strides, Mr. Blackwell closed the distance between them. Before Lily could take a step back, his hand shot out, grabbing her chin in a firm, unrelenting grip. Her breath hitched as he forced her to look up at him, his face so close that she could see the faint lines around his mouth, the dark gleam in his eyes.

"Listen carefully, little girl," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Your husband sent you here because you're a brat. A spoiled, disobedient brat who doesn't know her place. I'm the one who's going to fix that."

"I don't need fixing!" Lily hissed, trying to pull back, but his grip only tightened.

"Oh, you do," he said, a spark of amusement flickering in his gaze. "And by the time I'm done with you, you'll know exactly how to behave."

He released her chin with a small shove, making her stumble back a step. "Now take off your clothes before I decide to do it for you."

Lily's mouth fell open in shock, her cheeks blazing with humiliation. "You wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't I?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow as though daring her to test him. "Do you think your attitude intimidates me, Lily? I love breaking bad girls like you."

Something about the way he said it—low, rough, as though he truly relished the idea—made her stomach flip. She stood there frozen, torn between running and fighting.

"Tick-tock," Mr. Blackwell said, his tone light but edged with warning. "I won't ask again."

Her hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her sweater, hating herself for obeying but knowing he wouldn't let this go. She tugged it over her head and dropped it to the floor, standing there in her bra and jeans, her skin prickling under his intense stare.

"All of it," he said simply, his voice like a knife sliding through silk.

"Go to hell," she spat, glaring at him.

He stepped forward, so quickly that she flinched, and grabbed her wrist in one large hand. Before she could react, he spun her around and pinned her against the back of a nearby leather chair, pressing her chest into the cool surface.

"Let me go!" she shouted, kicking her legs, but it was useless.

"You've been begging for this since the moment you opened your mouth," Mr. Blackwell growled, his free hand yanking at the button of her jeans. He dragged them down roughly, ignoring her protests as he stripped her down to her thin, lace panties.

Lily gasped, her face burning with embarrassment as she felt the cool air against her exposed skin. "You can't do this!"

"I can do whatever I want," he said darkly, releasing her just long enough to step back and admire the sight of her bent over the chair. "Your husband gave you to me, and until I decide otherwise, you're mine to punish."