I woke up angry the other morning. It had nothing to do with you, but I could feel the anger goading me to take it out on you nonetheless.
So I did.
I know everyone in BDSM says not to strike in anger. That an angry dominant is not an in-control dominant. That always made sense to me.
I did it anyway.
I told you to kneel in front of me. I held the underside of your jaw, forcing you to tilt your face up to me. And then I slapped you.
And just like that, the anger was gone and the space between us was filled with your submission and your pain and the sudden hot rush of blood to my cunt. I pushed you to the floor, demanding your cock, hard, now. I rode you with my hand still wedged under your jaw so that you had to strain to look down your body at me. When I came with my nails in your neck and your chest, you flinched and whimpered.

