Breath Control Punishment – Mars Solo Is Fed up with Cowboy’s Laziness. Today He Is Finally Going to Learn His Lesson with Hand

Cowboy’s been acting out all afternoon—left his boots by the door again, dragged gravel over my freshly swept kitchen tiles, and ignored my gentle reminders with that wide, foolish grin he knows gets under my skin. When he flops on the bed, expecting a lazy evening and a reprieve from consequence, I decide it’s time to teach him a lesson. But not with words; I want it to sink in deeper. I want him to remember to listen. He’s splayed out, face buried in the pillow, when I straddle his hips and press my palm firmly over his mouth. There’s a moment of surprise, then muffled protest, but I shush him with a soft stroke to his hair. My hand is warm, but his breath is hotter against my skin. When he tries to inhale through his nose, I pinch his nostrils shut, slow and deliberate, just to watch the shudder run from his neck down his spine. He bucks, but he’s not really fighting me; he’s testing the boundaries, seeing how much I’ll take from him, how long I’ll draw the time he starts to squirm