Punish her

Amara's voice trembles as she speaks, her words barely above a whisper. "I don't want this," she says, her eyes darting towards the door as if searching for an escape route. She tries to stand up, but your hand shoots out, grasping her wrist like a vice. Your grip is firm, but not crushing, a subtle reminder of the power dynamic at play.

You lean in closer, your breath caressing her ear. "I'm afraid it's not a matter of want, Amara," you whisper, your voice low and menacing. "It's a matter of necessity. You see, you've already crossed a line, and now you need to face the consequences."

Amara's eyes widen with fear as she realizes the gravity of her situation. She tries to pull her wrist free from your grip, but you hold on tight. With a burst of adrenaline, she tries to run, but you're too quick. You pounce on her, your body pinning her down to the couch.

She struggles beneath you, her heart racing as she tries to break free. But you're too strong, and she can feel your weight pressing down on her. Your other hand reaches up, cupping her face as you **** her to look at you.

"You chose the hard way, Amara," you say, your voice low and menacing. "You could have made this easy on yourself, but now you've left me with ****."

Your grip on her wrist tightens, and she can feel the pressure building up in her chest. She's trapped, at your mercy, and she knows it. She tries to scream, but her voice is muffled by your hand. Tears stream down her face as she realizes the gravity of her situation.

You lean in closer, your lips brushing against her ear. "Don't worry, Amara," you whisper, "I will make sure you do not disobey me again."

With a swift movement, you pull her off the couch and drag her down the hallway, your grip tight on her wrist. She stumbles behind you, trying to keep up with your long strides. The hallway is dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows on the walls.