Choice

"Did I ask if you wanted to?"
"No, but..."
"But?"
"But it's not... it's just that..."
"I'll ask again. Did I ask if you wanted to?"
I take a deep breath. "No, Sir, but if you ...."
Your hand reaches under my chin and lifts my face upward toward yours. "Look at me."
I can't.
You sigh. Your hand moves to my left cheek, cupping it gently, and without a moment's hesitation, your left hand comes up, palm open and taps my right cheek. Not enough to sting. Not enough to make it red, or bruise it. But enough to bring me out of whatever universe I was in that I believed I had a say in this matter, and back into yours. Where I belong.
"I will ask one more time. Did I ask if you wanted to?" Your eyes bore into mine, giving no room for error.
"No, Sir." I eek out softly. My cheeks blush hotly, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to keep my eyes on yours.
"Then do it. Be quiet and quick about it. And don't make me ask again."