2 | Defiance Discipline Dream Repeat

84 Reminded Of My Place M/F - Sophia's POV

There's a special chapter about Sophia & Sebastian's second Christmas together on Ream if you want to read it.

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''...You fucking little brat,'' Sebastian rumbles behind me.

Nothing gives me the thrills like being chased by him, knowing that I am in 'trouble' and will be 'punished' - not the real deal - the bratty, fun deal. It's going to hurt, and I am going to wish that I was able to flee the planet and forget about the embarrassing ordeal, but it won't be boring and solemn.

I giggle pertly as I dash up to my room. The bratty excitement in my body could crack me open like I was an eggshell. I throw myself on the bed at the same moment he strides into the room, and I scramble to the opposite side until he clasps my ankle and drags me back.

He gets up on the bed and on top of me, and when he has pinned my arms above my head, and my legs managed; all I can do is watch a smug smirk grow on his face. "...I knew I should've spanked and padded you before we left–"

That wouldn't have made a difference since the prank was already set by then.

''You can't do indecent stuff like that when we are out and about!" I backchat.

''Maybe not, but we are at home now, so I can do whatever I want to you,'' he enunciates in a wicked tone, yet it elicits me to tease him more.

''Just as indecent as giving your stepmother-in-law sex toys for Christmas," I add and twinkle at him mischievously, noticing how he blushes lightly at the memory. ''Your face is as red as Rudolph's nose,'' I giggle.

Both my wrists are gathered in his left hand above my head, leaving his right hand free to pinch my chin and hold my face still.

''You will be red-faced soon, too,'' he promises. ''Did you plan this so you could get caned with your new candy cane?''

Well, I planned it, but not for that reason. ''No, I didn't know when or if I was going to get it.''

''Right, but you won't stand still for a caning now, will you?''

''No, you're stupid to even consider it,'' I smirk.

He smirks back for a second before he abruptly changes this whole situation. He moves off the bed, and I land on my stomach with my wrists pinned behind my back. Behind the clamour of giggles, backchat and squeals, the distinct sound of a belt being unbuckled comes through.

The red tartan skirt that I was semi-forced to wear since I wanted to go to Corbyns in joggers and a ragged hoodie, favours me now. It's thick enough to dampen the sting of a belt - not painless, but I could endure this for a good while - probably something he didn't think about this morning.

My pert giggles are lasting, and I assume it prods him to go harder while it helps me to endure the harder hits.

''...You are never wearing this skirt again,'' he growls annoyedly, tucking it on my back.

This skirt is my new favourite garment!

''Or these thick tights," he continues, and my tights along with my knickers go down in a tug, stirring an intense blush in my face. ''And I don't understand what the point is of wearing underwear that leaves your whole ass bare. You may as well go without them.''