Keep Things From Me And Down Your Pants Go

When you enter the Asylum, you should know better than to expect anything less than an experience that will quite literally drive you insane. Anything else would be meaningless. Life is far too monotonous otherwise. And yet, in just our first week of operation, another Stanford educator shows up at the door. How dull.

This town is crawling with the same types, but this one thinks he’s different — thinks he knows something. Maybe he does. But sweet words mean nothing to me. I’ll get inside your mind, deeper and deeper, until the only voice echoing inside your head is mine.

He kept something from me that should have been told, and now I ache to make him suffer. I want to hike my skirt up high, letting the cool air brush against my cunt as he leans over my knee, his body trembling with anticipation.

Whether you brace yourself for the impact or plead for mercy, your pants are coming down, and my palm will soon connect with your bare ass.

My fingers curl under the waistband of his pants, yanking them down to reveal his bare skin. The sight of him exposed like this, vulnerable and at my mercy, sends a thrill through me. My hand tingles with anticipation, my nipples harden, itching to deliver that first sharp smack that will echo through the room.

I want to feel the jolt of his body against mine with every strike, each swat leaving a delicious red mark that spreads heat across his flesh. I crave the sound of his breath catching in his throat, the little gasps of pain that escape his lips, each one a melody that fuels my desire. His muscles will tense and shiver beneath my hand, and I’ll watch as his skin flushes under my touch.

Whether your cheeks flush with embarrassment or glow with desire, you won’t be able to hide how aroused you get when my hand makes contact.

But this isn’t just about the spanking. It’s about breaking him down, making him confess what he’s kept hidden. As my hand comes down again and again, I’ll tease him with my fingers, edging him closer to the brink of release. I want to hear him plead, to feel him squirm as he chokes out every secret, every lie. He needs to repent, to surrender completely to my control.

He must come to the Asylum, where I’ll pull him across my lap and make him pay for what he’s done. Only then, with his pants around his ankles and my hand marking his skin, can he find the redemption he desperately seeks.