Fated for College Ch. 05

The sunlight gently through flowed the window blinds, dappling across the hardwood floor in warm, languid patterns. The apartment was quiet. Peaceful. Lia's textbooks lay untouched beside her, her art supplies scattered across the desk, abandoned hours ago.

She was on the bed--naked, flushed, panting.

It had been three days since that intense worship session. Three days since Celine had told her "You don't cum without my permission."

Three days of teetering on the edge of madness.

Every brush of her thighs, every half-waking dream filled with Celine's commanding voice and her hands had driven her deeper into a spiral of want. She couldn't focus. She could barely breathe without imagining herself at her mistress's feet again.

So when Celine had left for class this morning, Lia had lasted all of twenty minutes before her resolve broke.

Now, she lay on the mattress, fingers moving feverishly between her soaked folds, moaning into a pillow. Her mind was blank with lust, thoughts of punishment and obedience drowned out by the need to finally release.

She didn't hear the front door open.

She did feel the sudden, unmistakable sensation of being watched.

Her heart stopped.

She looked up--eyes wide, mouth half-open in a silent gasp--as she saw Celine standing in the doorway.

Her wallet in hand.

And her expression cold.

Lia's hand flew away from herself. She sat up, shame already painting her face crimson, scrambling to speak.

"C-Celine--I--I'm sorry, I wasn't--"

But that gaze froze her mid-sentence.

Icy. Silent. Disappointed.

Celine didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.

"Strip," she said, her voice like glass. "And kneel in the living room. Wait for me there."

Then she turned and walked out of the room.

Lia's limbs moved before her thoughts caught up. She stripped quickly--her shame rising with every piece of clothing--and crawled shakily into the living room. Her knees pressed into the floor, hands resting obediently on her thighs, head bowed.

She felt like she was about to cry already.

Alone in silence, her arousal had long since faded, leaving only the sour tang of guilt. Not just guilt over breaking a rule--but over disappointing Celine.

Celine closed the door behind her and leaned against it, heart pounding. Her grip tightened around the wallet she'd come back for, her knuckles white. A storm churned in her chest--anger, disappointment, confusion.

She hadn't expected this to hurt.

Not just irritation at a rule being broken--but a real, twisting ache beneath her stern exterior. She had trusted Lia. She had bound her with that rule--her first act of real ownership. And Lia had... disregarded it.

Celine paced slowly across the room, trying to clear her mind. Her hands trembled, not with fury, but with something deeper. Realization.

This dynamic--it wasn't just a game or fling. It never had been, not really. She cared. More than she had realized. More than she'd been willing to admit to herself until now.

Lia's disobedience wasn't just a misstep. It was a violation of something deeper. But it was also an opportunity--a moment where Celine could step into her role not just as a lover, or a girl with fantasies--but as a Mistress.

And being a Mistress wasn't just about pleasure or control. It meant taking responsibility. It meant holding the line. It meant discipline, structure, consistency.

She took a breath. Steeled herself.

It was time to become what Lia needed her to be. Not just a partner. But her guide, her lover, her Mistress.

When Celine finally emerged, she was calm. Composed. Dressed in a sharp, athletic set of black leggings and a tank top that made her look half queen, half devilish fiend. In her hand, she carried a paddle--one from their pickleball set, but tonight it had a new purpose.

She sat on the couch directly in front of Lia and let the silence stretch before speaking.

"Tell me what you did wrong."

Lia's voice cracked as she looked up through teary eyes.

"I... I touched myself without permission. I disobeyed you, Mistress. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I just-- I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Celine softened slightly at the last sentence, but her tone remained measured.

"I believe you. And I forgive you."

Lia looked up with hope--only to see Celine slowly raise the paddle.

"But that doesn't mean there aren't consequences."

Her stomach flipped.

"It's your first offense," Celine continued. "So it'll be 20 spanks. With this."

Lia's eyes widened.

"I want you to bend over and hold your ankles," Celine added, "I'll let you keep count. But if you lose position--or stop counting--we begin again."

Lia swallowed. Her Mistress was strong--athletic and lithe, with lean muscle behind limb. A real athlete that was now going to administer her punishment.

"Yes, Mistress," Lia whispered, crawling forward and bending at the waist until her hands gripped her ankles. Her ass was fully exposed--tense, trembling.

Celine stood, testing the weight of the paddle in her hand.

"Begin."

SMACK.

Lia nearly collapsed forward on the first blow. The sound was thunderous, the pain a brutal searing across her rear.

"One!" she sputtered out, her breath shaky.

SMACK.

"Two--!"

Her thighs quivered. Each hit felt like fire burning through her back, the heat building fast.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

By the tenth, her knees wobbled, her voice faltered.

At the twelfth--she lost her grip and fell forward, collapsing onto the floor in a sob.

"No--please, I can--" she scrambled upright, hair wild, eyes wet. "Don't restart--I was so close--"

Celine crouched beside her.

"Slut," she said softly, lifting Lia's chin. "Do you deserve to be properly punished?"

Lia whimpered, eyes tearing up further.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then stand up. And start again."

Lia did.

And this time--she didn't fall.

She screamed. She wept. Her knees shook, her back ached, and her voice grew ragged.

But she stayed in position.

And finally--

"Twenty..."

Her voice was barely a whisper. Her face streaked with tears and snot. Her ass red and blistered, trembling in the air.

Celine dropped the paddle and knelt beside her, easing her gently up into her arms.

"Shh... it's okay. You did so well."

She cradled Lia close, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and hair, stroking her back with tender hands.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered. "You took your punishment beautifully. You made me proud."

Lia melted into her arms, clinging to her, sobbing softly not from pain--but from overwhelming pride.

"I'll be good, Mistress," she promised through sniffles. "I'll be better."

"I know you will."

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together on the floor, the heat of spanking slowly cooling into something softer--warmer. Deeper.

Their dynamic had changed again.

Not just play. Not just pleasure.

Discipline. Devotion. A bond carved in sweat, tears, and trust.

And neither of them would forget it.