⚠️Warning! This book is for 16 and older so if your under 16 and reading this don't report this i gave a warning and told you not to read it. Everything in the book is consensual not real and should not be read by kids 16 and under⚠️


The weekend was well underway, and for the most part, things had been peaceful between Damon and me. We'd settled into a comfortable routine, with our usual mix of quiet moments and intense encounters. But today, we decided to step out of Damon's apartment and venture into the world outside—a rare occurrence, given how much we both enjoyed our privacy.

We ended up at a quaint little café downtown, a place that Damon liked for its secluded atmosphere and excellent coffee. The afternoon was warm, and the streets were bustling with people, but inside the café, it was quiet, just the low hum of conversation and the clinking of cups.

I was in a playful mood, feeling confident and lighthearted as we sat across from each other at a small table near the window. Damon, as usual, was his composed self, sipping his coffee and observing the world around him with that intense gaze of his.

But for some reason, today, I felt like testing the waters a bit. Maybe it was the ease of the weekend or the comfort I had found in our relationship, but I felt a mischievous urge to push Damon's buttons, to see how far I could go.

"So," I said casually, leaning back in my chair as I stirred my coffee. "What do you think about me getting another piercing? Maybe a nose ring this time?"

Damon looked up from his cup, his expression unreadable as he studied me. "Another piercing?" he repeated, his tone neutral but with an underlying note of curiosity.

"Yeah," I said, smiling a little too sweetly. "I think it would look cute. And I won't ask your permission this time, either."

His eyes narrowed slightly at that, a clear sign that I was treading on thin ice. But instead of backing down, I leaned in, resting my chin on my hand as I continued, "Maybe I'll get a tattoo too. Something small, just for me. What do you think, Damon? Maybe I'll surprise you with that next."

Damon's jaw tightened, and I could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. "Mya," he said, his voice low and warning, "You're pushing your luck."

But I was on a roll now, feeling emboldened by his reaction. "What's the matter, Damon?" I teased, tilting my head to the side. "Afraid you won't be able to control me if I do something without asking?"

His expression darkened at that, and I knew I had crossed a line. But there was something thrilling about it, something that made my heart race with a mix of fear and excitement. I wanted to see just how far I could go before he snapped.

"You're acting out," Damon said, his voice dangerously calm. "Do you really want to do this here, in public?"

I shrugged, a small smirk playing on my lips. "Maybe. What are you going to do about it, Damon? Spank me right here in front of everyone?"

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. The look on Damon's face was enough to send a chill down my spine, a look that promised consequences far beyond what I had bargained for. His eyes were cold, his jaw set in a hard line as he leaned in, his voice low and lethal.

"Mya," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you don't stop this right now, you will regret it."

The severity in his voice finally cut through my bravado, and I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I had pushed too far, taken the teasing too lightly, and now I was faced with the full force of Damon's displeasure.

But before I could apologize, before I could take back my words, Damon gave me a look—a glare so intense that it made my blood run cold. It was a silent command, a warning that spoke louder than any words ever could.

I froze under his gaze, my mouth snapping shut as the realization of what I had done settled in. The playful mood evaporated, replaced by a tension that crackled between us like a live wire. I could feel the eyes of other patrons in the café on us, but I didn't dare move, didn't dare speak.

Damon didn't say another word. He simply continued to stare at me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me feel small, exposed, and utterly powerless. The weight of his authority pressed down on me, making it clear that this wasn't a game—this was serious, and I had crossed a line that I shouldn't have.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I lowered my gaze to the table, the bravado I had felt moments ago completely shattered. I wanted to apologize, to tell him I was sorry for pushing him, but I knew that anything I said now would only make things worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Damon finally leaned back in his chair, the tension in the air still thick and suffocating. He didn't have to say anything; the message was clear. I had disrespected him, embarrassed him in public, and there would be consequences for that later—consequences that I knew would be far from pleasant.

The rest of the afternoon passed in uncomfortable silence. I couldn't bring myself to look at Damon, couldn't bring myself to speak. The realization of what I had done weighed heavily on me, a knot of anxiety forming in the pit of my stomach as I anticipated what was to come.

When we finally left the café, Damon's hand on my lower back was gentle, but it didn't offer the comfort it usually did. Instead, it was a reminder of the control he held over me, a control that I had foolishly challenged.

As we walked back to his apartment, I couldn't help but wonder what Damon had in store for me. I had pushed him too far, and now I would have to face the consequences of my actions. The thought filled me with dread, but also a strange sense of resolve. I had made a mistake, and I would have to own up to it.

But I knew one thing for sure—whatever punishment Damon had planned, it would serve as a stark reminder that in our relationship, there were lines that were not meant to be crossed.

And I had crossed one today.

Damon Salvatore.Where stories live. Discover now