Title: I'm gonna wipe that smile off ( read my lips )

Fandom: WOWP/Camp Rock

Disclaimer: I do not own or mean to offend, do not redistribute on other sites.

Warnings: GUYS PLEASE CHECK THIS!: nc-17 for femslash, dom!sub relationship and discipline!punishment, and well...sex.

Word count: 2832

Summary: Its Alex's role to distribute and its Mitchie's role to take it.

A/N : dedicated to dangerzone911 and yummyhippomeat because they inspired me to write dom!Selena, so thankyou!

"Are you ready to apologize yet?" Alex tries to keep the look of boredom straight on her face, but its so hard to when Mitchie's naked back is striped in red layered patterns. Begging for her to paint a harsher colour.

Mitchie's shuddered breath isn't an answer but the squeak that comes when the end of Alex's riding crop pats her lower back is good enough. For now.

"No?" Alex hasn't personally felt the leather against her bare skin, its not how this 'thing' works between them. Its Alex's role to distribute and its Mitchie's role to take it, whenever and for whatever reason Alex deems. Or for when Mitchie comes to her with guilt.

And she thinks the lack of contact since July plus some of Mitchie's newest attractions is good enough reason for her to be bent over the side of Alex's bed, a position the girl is quite familiar with, her lower body inching out. Though Alex's strikes haven't landed there, yet.

The back of Mitchie's thighs shake as she supports most of her lower body weight on her shins. Alex leisurely looks to her alarm clock. Mitchie arrived at 5, the crop hidden in her bag and a repenting look on her face that stopped Alex before she could shout at her to leave.

Whistling sounds out and a gasp, that Alex would have normally arched to in pleasure, escapes from Mitchie's pained face.

Because Mitchie knew that there was only one way her apology could go. And it was clear to Alex that it was the only way she wanted it; when the supple rod was hesitantly placed in her fingers along with Mitchie's flushed, downcast face. Alex can't imagine how much embarrassment Mitchie had to push through to turn up knowing that Alex was going to punish her. But she takes pleasure in it when she remembers how the past few months have forced her beneath her covers and into false arms because her best friend wanted nothing to do with her.

And if its wrong to enjoy the sick arousal that jolts in her hips when she ordered Mitchie to strip, then its bad that she felt herself grow even wetter tangling her hand in Mitchie's hair to push her into her current position. Helpless and waiting for something only Alex could deliver.

Besides;

"I'm..." Mitchie's voice is a wavering beacon of unsure territory that doesn't convey much else than Alex isn't getting her message through properly.

A badly choked sob cracks out just after the twist of the crop hits out at virgin flesh. Alex's okay with hitting lower.

Besides; Mitchie sounds like she's actually letting it sink in now; she asked for this.

"Your?..." Alex mimics Mitchie's tone. It increases the frustration, in both Mitchie and herself. Alex doesn't mind the double edged sword so much when she's the one holding it.

"Your what Mitchie?"

Mitchie's dark curls fall over her shoulders, its the indicator Alex uses to tell whether she's moving when she shouldn't be. Her hand tightens over the riding crop; she's not angry, she's past anger and she's hit that spot where she's in complete control of everything she feels. The pain and sorrow and anger for what Mitchie has put her through in the past months will return, when all this is over and when Mitchie is sorry. But getting pissed while punishing someone is asking for irreversible damage. And as much as she's screamed into her pillow nightly how much she hates Mitchie, she never really wants to hurt her.

"Ahhfu-" The leather snap strikes out with such a speed that Mitchie has no idea its happening until the sting burns her behind.

Alex doesn't really want to hurt her, but Mitchie asked for it.

---

Mitchie hasn't lifted her head off Alex's bed since Alex counted past 30. Its a high number and usually they don't get that far but Alex has been counting since the Princess Protection Program premiere and she hasn't even got to that number yet.

Alex is slowing down now. Its the worst part for Mitchie, anticipation for the next hit outweighs the actual blow, her hands itch to move and to cover her wounds but she knows better.

The last time she did Alex caught her knuckles and she wouldn't let Mitchie interrupt until she was finished punishing her. Despite the inflamed red that painfully incased them.

She hears Alex stop pacing and her muscles tense. The whip cracks and this time the burn shoots from her ass to her neck forcing a strangled sob from her lips. Mitchie breathes through her nose rapidly to fill her lungs again, Alex always had a unique way of taking her breath away. Even before their relationship took this turn, maybe even from the first day they met.

Her lips are probably as raw as most of her upper and lower back, her teeth scrape over where her tongue wets; she's not looking forward to assessing Alex's artwork. But she needs it, she needs Alex's forgiveness and this submissive moment is the offer she hands to Alex (more times than she wishes she would have to). Sleeping on her front and taking freezing showers for the next week are worth having Alex look at her without her eyes digging into her soul.

Mitchie has to lift her chin to rest on the duvet, looking at the wall across the bed through her hair. A cool sweat covers her face and its mostly from the pain and the heat that starts at the end of Alex's cane and ends with the black spots filling her eyes like tears. And then actual tears.

"Are you going to apologize?" Alex's voice calls to her through her blurry reality, its a calming tone coming from someone whose just bent her over her bed and thrashed her to no end.

Mitchie's been ready to apologize since she picked the riding crop out of her bedroom dresser and pocketed her keys. She's been ready to apologize since the day she realized that she was going to have to go through this again. Alex probably knows that.

If they had been normal 'best friends' in anyway, they would have probably spent the last hour arguing and getting nowhere, Mitchie and Alex just cut out the middle man; and Mitchie knows her trembling and whimpering says more than 'I'm sorry' can. Because Alex can be sure that as soon as Mitchie apologizes, in a weak, low voice; and with the bright red marks that tan her backside and shoulders, she means it.

She almost jumps out of her heated skin when the leather loop pats her ass, teasingly making her more aware (if possible) of whats coming if Mitchie takes any longer to answer Alex this time. She finds she can't get the words out fast enough once Alex gets into pace. Mitchie doesn't know when its okay to stop, Alex controls everything because she's the one that hurts more. The pain Mitchie endures under her is nothing to what Alex has to deal with from Mitchie. Emotional scars and hurtful scenes.

As soon as the roles are reversed its Alex who gets to break Mitchie.

"I'm..."

The leather strokes up rear back, she can imagine Alex's lips trying not to tweak like they always do; because Alex pretends not to enjoy doing this, hides how therapeutic it is and deep down, how much Alex loves to make her feel so submissive - takes care of her with every stride and lash in a way that Mitchie cries because it hurts.

Her face burns hotter and harder than where Alex's swats have landed. The embarrassment just adds to it all, asking Alex; begging Alex to punish her, hurt her, make her writhe and sometimes bleed.

Alex's presence bears over her a little more, like she knows what guilty pleasure is running through her mind.

She also knows that when Alex tightens a hand in her hair, when her warm eyes darken and become unrecognizable, when her knees welcome the ground; and especially when Alex bends her over - she knows nothing will ever turn her on more.

"...sorry, Alex. I'm sorry."

Everything seems so silent when the words fall pitifully from her mouth. The numb relief that usually comes washing over her, as it usually did, didn't come. It makes Mitchie uneasy, even more than she could be kneeling naked on Alex's hardwood floor.

The silence is foreboding.

Mitchie is surprised to say the least when the length of the whip taps at her stomach, the leather is warm to the touch and Alex's words are so level that when Mitchie is allowed to look at her she sees a determination there that tells her that there's still something left in her.

"Shuffle back."

Mitchie obeys. She looks down and obeys.

Her knees retreat from the side of the bed, where she was so closely pressed, until her elbows are the main support on the bed and her body is arching down. She knows that if the crop hits her now she's going to fall on her face.

But she doesn't dare say anything. She doesn't move an inch; not even when her thighs quake and shoulders shiver. Anxious gasps move strands of her hair. Mitchie can make out patterns in the floor.

Then her eyes refuse to process anything because she feels Alex's own knees drop behind her own. The material of her jeans scratch at her left leg as Alex places her right knee between them. Mitchie watches the movement through her outspread legs. Alex's so close to her now and there's no doubt in her mind of what Alex must feel, what she must know.

She's just so sensitive, its unbearable to have Alex within her reach after the girl has disciplined her. With Alex being so untouchable.

Mitchie just didn't expect the pain, and the excruciating ache she feels, to get any worse. And then Alex's hand melds to her backside.

She doesn't know which is more likely to happen; that she'll die of arousal or possible shame, because she's not going to tolerate Alex's touch whether the girl is teasing her - but if Alex actually substitutes the crop for a bare hand then Mitchie is never going to be able to look her in the face again. Its a line they haven't crossed.

Alex's hand feels rougher than Mitchie knows it is, probably due to the taping of the riding crop rubbing on her palm, it doesn't give away any of Alex's intentions but it keeps Mitchie alert. Circling and pressing on particularly piercing places that make Mitchie hurt everywhere.

Then Alex's hand is a breath away from her burning skin and Mitchie has to tense again.

"Are you really sorry?"

Mitchie almost doesn't have the strength to swallow. Alex's hovering hand feels like a shadow over her ass and the girl is leaning over her back to get her words as close to Mitchie's ear as possible.

Mitchie is sorry. She's very, very sorry. She'll say it a thousand times, over and over but its not going to stop Alex from spanking her, at least once, without the cover of a crop. Mitchie is glad for once that Alex can't see her scarlet mortification.

"I-am, I am. I'm sorry-" She can't repeat is again because Mitchie can't force words out of her throat anymore when the air between Alex's hand and her ass gets wider. Mitchie can only thank small favors that Alex didn't choose to humiliate her more by dragging her over her denim covered knee before Alex brings her open palm back down.

Mitchie hadn't expected it to sting. But it does. More than the crop, more than anything Alex's ever put to her before and the sting erupts again when Alex's hand finds her a second time, and a third.

She wants to cry. Scream, beg Alex to stop because its so embarrassing how much control Alex has over her now, spanking her until Mitchie will never be able to forget how she treated Alex and how this will happen again if she ever puts Alex through something similar.

Mitchie doesn't expect Alex to stop. Abruptly after the third her body anticipates another blow against her rear but it doesn't.

The backs of her ears flame as she realizes why Alex stopped.

The girl is pressing her crotch into Mitchie 's behind. The prickling of wear the jeans rubbed against her irritates the latest strikes Mitchie has received and she has to disguise a moan with a strained gasp. But when Alex's hand trails up to her neck, pulling away her limp hair to voice clearer, Mitchie needn't have bothered to hide it.

"You're cumming, Mitchie."

Alex slides her fingers between Mitchie's legs as she tauntingly informs her of what Alex's ministrations, her discipline, has caused. Her fingers, then same ones that had gripped the riding crop, now push at her center. Mitchie can't breathe until Alex is inside her.

Her senses constrict her on all fronts. Mitchie still dares not to move with Alex explores her heat incase another round comes on, but she can't keep her frustration in anymore.

Alex's slowness, her tracing tips, all work towards Alex asserting herself. Her control. Her world.

"Ah!" Mitchie's cry brings the first visible smile to Alex's face, one that Mitchie can see in the mirror on the opposite wall, as well as the sight of Mitchie's wound arousal wanting Alex to into her harder, fuck harder.

And she isn't disappointed when Alex's other hand attaches to her left hip, nails immediately drawing half moons to hold on as the taller girl thrusts her hand and her hip in and out of Mitchie. Frictionless that suits the deliverer but only makes Mitchie ache for more. More.

Alex's dominance.

"Plea-" Mitchie's stutter doesn't get a second syllable when Alex's hip hits her ass in time to her fingers inside her. Rippling waves of pins and needles.

Mitchie's hands knot themselves in Alex's bed sheets until she can't hold herself up. Her elbows find the floor and Alex finds a faster pace now that Mitchie is further below her.

Mitchie is past feeling; the shame, the sting, the pleasure - it'll rush back when her nerves catch up with the rest of her body.

She'll come again, as Alex's nails digging into her hip become a hand that squeezes exactly the same place that Mitchie had felt it slap before; but this time she feels it. Quiver and rush and shake, weakening her body until she's sure Alex's hand between her legs is the only thing keeping her lower body up.

Her panting comedown is as close to words as either of them will get, this they both know.

Alex will get up and leave, locking the bedroom door for Mitchie to change and compose. She used to stay, try and hold Mitchie through her prolonged expressions but Mitchie can't stand Alex's hands being so comforting after being so 'fair'.

The last seconds of Alex's dominance tick in the air and Mitchie feels sweat cover her body like she's just run a marathon.

Things won't automatically fall back to the way they were. Its not going to be as simple as just giving herself up for it. Mitchie knows that they're going to talk, and its going to work out and maybe it'll be a few weeks before she'll be able to forget the feel of Alex's hand but they will be fine.

Alex rises up on her knees and Mitchie misses her hand as soon as she pulls out. Her spine receives a pouted kiss that doesn't go even when Alex's lips move.

They love each other too much not to be.

Alex doesn't look at Mitchie when she pulls a blanket from under her bed, the roles are back now - equals. Friends. Lovers. Mitchie keeps still while Alex wraps the clean sheet around her and sighs at how it molds over her boiling skin.

Mitchie pulls the corners of the material around her so she's covered and then Alex cups her cheek.

The light kiss she places there says a million things; its worth a thousand snapshots; its forgiveness, its sorry, its reassuring, its waiting.

And its unconditional. Just like everything else between them.

Against everything Mitchie feels herself smile.