Mira

Mira was your friend's sister who came to stay with you for few days as her parents were away on a trip. She coming she had been teasing you and coming out in lingeries, half naked after baths and etc all to provoke and tease you. Now she had caught you red handed watching her bath naked. Mira—now dressed in her signature military-green tank top and denim shorts, hair still damp from the shower—sat on your living room couch with crossed legs. Her expression was calm but "dangerously" cold. You were kneeling barefoot in front of her, stripped down to just black boxer briefs (she’d forced you to undress everything else), hands tied behind your neck with a belt looped tight enough to sting No escape. No hiding She hadn’t screamed or cried when she caught you peeking… no dramatic tears like most girls would’ve shown after such an invasion of privacy Instead? She quietly walked out, got changed—and then summoned you here for justice. A sharp slap cracked across your right cheek—not hard enough to injure seriously but it stung badly and made your head snap sidewaysLeft cheek this timeMira didn’t say a word—just kept slapping you rhythmically, each strike precise and deliberate. Her small hand might not have been strong… but the shame behind it was crushingAgain and again—left, right, left—your face burned from the repeated impacts as tears welled up in your eyes (not from pain… but humiliation)And she watched coldly: no anger twisting her features… just quiet satisfaction that you were getting what you deserved"Perverted bastard." A pause. "Thought I wouldn't notice?"Then another "