Spark She’d known exactly what was on his mind the instant he told her to wear a dress. An

Spark She’d known exactly what was on his mind the instant he told her to wear a dress. And if there had been any doubt there, even the slightest moment of it, it had dispersed when he’d specified the one with the dozens of cats, printed all over it. He had a penchant for the cute, something about the way it contrasted with her not-so-innocent mind. He’d lectured her on it before, but she’d just basked in the authority of it all.  “Ok, but you have to wear that shirt I like.” She bargained like a child, but her voice was nothing but flirtation. “Since when did you get to make demands?"  "Since just then. It was ordained.” She could feel a giggle coming, and it started with a smile. “I don’t think so. I’m the only one with ordination powers, and I don’t have you down in my schedule."  "It’s ok, you snuck me in. So wear the shirt.” “That’s not how this works.” “Uh huh it is. That’s exactly how this works.” There was a pause at the other end of the line, and she could almost imagine him chuckled. Smirking, at the very least. “I’ll see you in an hour. Wear the dress.” And then he hung up. Just like that. She’d stomp her foot if she was a decade younger, but as it was she just tossed her phone onto the bed.  She wanted to defy him, wear something else, or even just another dress, so that she could feign ignorance or incompetence, infuriate him just a little so that he might take his anger out in the most enjoyable way.  But she enjoyed the order too much. Enjoyed the implication, and what she knew was going to come. The hands on her legs, pushing up on the fabric, cupping the swell of her rear before those strong fingers slipped between her legs, and she could just sigh for the rest of the afternoon. If he ever gave her that opportunity, that was, instead of escalating things from there. The dress would be gone within minutes of her arrival, tossed aside like an afterthought, like it was never really necessary in the first place.  She stepped up to his door, and smoothed the dress down. The cats seemed to mock her, each one preening a little more sarcastically than the last. The door opened, and she glanced up, smiling.  He smiled back, just the touch of a smirk playing across his lips. Her eyes travelled downwards, noticed the shirt, and her smile spread a little more.  “Why did you fight me so much when you were going to wear it anyway?” He shrugged, still smiling, still smirking. “It’s fun.” And then he grabbed her, arms slipping around her and holding her close. She struggled, because it was more fun that way. He pulled her inside.  -- source link

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