“What are you wearing?” you ask as I walk into the kitchen.

I’m dressed in your crisp white dress shirt. Cuffed at the wrists and held together by two buttons at my waist and nothing else. My skin is clearly visible down the center of my chest; it’s obvious I don’t have a bra on. The recently recovered schoolgirl inside me is already awake and pouting about taking the shirt from the closet and she almost passed out when I chose to wear nothing underneath.

“Good Morning. It’s so nice to see you, too,” I reply.

“So you’re going to start being sassy first thing in the morning? What are you wearing?”

“Just an old rag that I found in your closet, you like it?” I say, smiling and holding my arms up while twirling around.

“Old rag?” you reply with an incredulous look on your face, “Do you always take things that aren’t yours?”

“If I remember correctly you didn’t seem to have a problem taking a few liberties last night that you didn’t ask for.”

“You could have stopped me at any moment. You just needed to say so.”

A mild blush comes over my face as I recall the spanking from the prior evening. There’s nothing I can say to that, I could have said stop but I didn’t. I was fully aware of everything that happened last night but I didn’t try to stop any of it. A part of me actually liked it. I liked not knowing what was going to happen next, I liked being laid across your lap and I liked being told what to do.

Shrugging my shoulders and turning my head toward you I take the mature path and stick my tongue out at you and continue walking to the refrigerator with a little wiggle of my bottom. I can feel your eyes on me and I can sense the smile on your lips.

Looking through the refrigerator I don’t find anything I really want to eat but I make a grand show of lifting my arms up to reach for something on the top shelf. There’s really no reason to do this other than to make the shirt lift up and expose my bottom. The little schoolgirl in me just shakes her head and starts to back up to the corner, coward.

“You’re a little tease aren’t you? May I remind you what happened to your ass last night?”

Doing my best Scarlett O’Hara impression I half turn toward you, opening my mouth wide and cover it with my fingers.

Then in an exaggerated southern accent I mockingly say, “Oh, whatever do you mean?”

Closing the refrigerator door I reach down to the freezer and bend over it while I pull out the drawer. I can feel the cold air of the freezer flow across me; it does both me and my schoolgirl subconscious good, she’s sitting on her bottom with her legs pulled up to her chest and her head resting on her knees.

“I would be careful with your little game, Michelle.”

Sticking my tongue out just a little and biting it down on top of my bottom lip all I can do is smile and look at you with my bottom clearly exposed.

Again I find nothing I want to eat and I walk up and lean against the opposite side of the bar from you. I reach out with my fingers and pick up a piece of pineapple from your plate and suck the juice from it before putting it in my mouth. A piece of kiwi and some cantaloupe follow. Intentionally I keep my head down avoiding your gaze and wipe my fingers on the shirt.

There’s no reaction, not a snort, not a grunt, nothing. Have I gone too far? Looking up into your eyes I take one last piece of pineapple and draw it across my lips and suck the sweet juices into my mouth and place it in my mouth.

Continuing to look into your eyes I again wipe my fingers on the shirt.

Drawing my arm up to my mouth I then place the sleeve against my lips and wipe my mouth on the sleeve.

Still there is no reaction. Maybe an iota of a smile but it’s very subtle if there was anything at all.

Okay, this may being going wrong. I’m starting to have second thoughts. I’ve gone this far, if you’re going to get mad at me I guess I might as well go all the way with it. Time for one last try before I give up and go hide in the corner with my subconscious.

Walking around the bar and onto the carpet I stop with my back to you. With my feet slightly spread I make my last attempt. I bend over at the waist, my legs straight. I bend over to pick up some unseen piece of lint on the ground. The shirt, your shirt, slides up over my bottom and onto my back. My bottom and womanhood is completely exposed. I peak between my knees back at you and stick my tongue out and bat my eye lashes.

In a moment you’re in motion. Jumping up from the barstool and sending it flying and crashing onto the floor. You have moved two steps before I can even react and start to run. With a squeal I dart to the other side of the table in an attempt to keep you at bay. We start a little dance around the table. An arm reaching across the table to grab me is easily dodged. We’re circling around table. Whenever you move I move in response in an attempt to keep you half way around the table from me. I find myself giggling and squealing with every lunge or attempt to grab me.

Then you stop and a big smile comes across your lips and you start to push the entire table toward me. Chairs are falling over and crashing to the floor. I’m taking cautious steps backward until I bump into the corner of the room. Looking both ways, side to side, trying to find and escape but there is none. Either direction I could run would take me past you. The round table slides toward me until I’m trapped in the corner.

Looking up at you there isn’t anger in your eyes. There is a beautiful playful smile. Maybe the smile of the victor, a victor that knows he’s going to receive the spoils.

“You can either give up or I can come and get you. It’s your choice.”

“I’m not going to give up. You’re going to have to come and . . .”

I start to reply but a scream finishes my sentence. You have jumped up on the table and slid across. Your lips are inches from my face you’re your hands grasping the shirt.

“I am so happy you made that choice.”

Your lips coming in contact with mine. Sucking my bottom lips into your mouth and biting on it as you pull back.

“Mmmm, you taste good.”

Twisting your hips you slide your legs into the small opening and press up against me. Ooh, I can feel my little game has had an effect on you. I can feel the fullness in your groin against my stomach.

Pushing back with your legs the table easily slides back.

You take a half step back from me and lower your hands to my wrists.

“May I have my shirt please?”

“No! If you want it you’re going to have to take it!”

I try to jump past you only to be caught in your arms. I try to struggle free but I’m no match; you’re so much bigger and stronger than me.

Your body presses against me and your fingers slide down the front of the shirt.

With your fingers on the front of the shirt you pull in opposite directions. The two buttons holding the shirt closed snap under the force and with a popping sound fly across the room. You hold the front of the shirt open and smile.

“Oh last night was nothing compared to the fucking I’m going to give you now! “

Nervousness and anxiety start to build in me and my schoolgirl subconscious has fainted in the corner.