*”Tell me exactly what you want.” Seth crossed his arms and stared down at Mary from his chair at the head of the table.

Mary, for her part, was on her knees on the floor next to him, head in his lap as he stroked her hair gently.

She had come to him, distressed, but hiding it well. Always hiding it well, his Mary. It was busy season for her at her work, and she was holding it together with pure stress, not strength.

“I—“ she gulped audibly. Seth continued stroking her hair silently, waiting. This wasn’t something he could force. “I need something I can’t win. I need something impossible. Not now, I have to keep my head straight, but in a month, maybe? And by surprise, if you can do that.”

He made a gentle noise of assent. “Of course.”*

When Mary got home at the end of the month on a Friday, she faced planted into Seth’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent like a drug.

When she woke up, the scent was even more intrinsically around her, muscled arms wrapped around her waist.

She whined, still exhausted but also wanting. She rubbed her thighs together and turned in Seth’s grasp, burying her face in his neck. She had been deprived of him all month; she felt malnourished of him.

He stirred awake with a soft groan. “It’s—“ he glanced at the clock “2:37. This is what you get for sleeping at six in the evening.”

She shrank back. “Sorry.”

“Mm, are you?” She stilled at the tone of voice. Not angry, of course not angry, never angry. But inviting.

She sat up. He did as well, scooting so his back was to the headboard of the bed.

“Do you want to be sorry?” He asked. She wet her lips, a bit nervous.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good.” He tossed the blankets off the bed and spread his thighs. He patted the space between them.

The lost blankets reminded her of three clothes she had tiredly stripped off before getting into bed, the air cool against her skin. She gulped, but crawled over, settling her back against his chest and sitting between his legs. His own hooked her ankles, spreading her wide to the open air, the slick already dripping from her cunt making her shiver.

Lightly, he dipped his fingers into her cunt, spreading the moisture on his fingers, then pinched her clit lightly between his index and middle fingers. She whined; it took more than that to make her cum, but it was enough to make her walls flutter involuntarily.

“Hmm,” he sighed in her ear, his other hand reaching for something under the pillows, “you’re a good girl, right?”

She nodded.

His hand returned, holding a bullet vibrator. He clicked through the setting before choosing one that met his satisfaction, then pressed and angled it to her clit with that same pressure that made her muscles tighten. “Then you’ll be good and not come until I tell you to.”

She whimpered. There was no way she was going to last long against the rumbling vibrations and the angle and the pressure and the desperation. It only took her thirty seconds to feel the oncoming waves. She tried to wriggle her hips away, but Seth knew just how to pin them down against him, keep her trapped in his embrace.

“Please,” she gasped, “please I’ll be good.”

“No,” the word was soft and mocking.

“I’ll— I’ll— I’ll suck you off, I’ll do anything—“

She felt him smile against the sensitive skin of her neck, sucked lightly.

“Oh, but you know that doesn’t work on me.” He cooed.

She twisted her head, buried her face partially in his neck, keening when the orgasm washed over her.

He kept the vibrator there, letting her ride it out.

When she was done and panting, he switched it off and set it aside.

He flipped her on her stomach, grasping her wrists with one hand. The other he used to smooth the skin of her ass cheeks.

“Now that’s not what a good girl does,” he purred. “Count.”

She yelped at the first swat. “O-one,” she gasped.

Another. “Two.”

He made it all the way up to twenty before running a finger down her spine, signaling he was done. She shivered pleasantly.

“Up,” he commanded. Slowly, she got up.

He grabbed a pillow and dropped it on the floor. “Kneel.”

She nodded and did as asked.

He went to his desk and grabbed a glass of water she hadn’t noticed. He returned to her and tilted her chin up with a finger, pressing the rim of the glass to her lower lip.

“Drink,” he said. She obeyed, drinking until she lost control of his tilting of water and she coughed a bit.

He pulled back, setting the glass back down. He grabbed her chin, tilting her head this way and that to admire the glimmer of water running down her chin.

“Very pretty,” he cooed. “Now. You have a choice to make. We go back to sleep, or we continue training.”

She gulped. “Training?”

“Yes. You need remedial training, obviously, for being a good girl. You barely lasted five minutes before disobeying me.”

“What would training entail?” She asked.

“What we just did. Over and over again until you got the picture.”

She swallowed, mouth dry again. She and Seth both knew she only had three real orgasms in her at any given time before they stopped being orgasms and just turned into her muscles trembling and something between pleasure and pain. And she always got exponentially more sensitive. The spankings would just be more and more intense with the same amount of effort on Seth’s part.

Truly efficient training.

She lifted her head proudly.

“I want to be a good girl.” She declared.