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The Notebook	By : PersonOfDisinterest Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Legend of Korra, The Views: 66558 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Legend of Korra or its characters and am making no profit from this work.

Chapter List
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"I'm sorry."
The leather of Asami's driving gloves stretched tight around her hand. A sharp clap rang out when she struck Mako across the face.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," she said at length. Her fingers slid up into his hair, where she took a firm grip and turned Mako's face to observe the red imprint colouring his cheek. "How does that saying go again? Actions speak louder than words, don't they, sweetie? So I suggest you get to work."
Mako was on his knees in the middle of his own apartment, eyes downcast as Asami released his hair. She slid her right foot towards him along the threadbare carpet and folded her arms. It took Mako a moment before he began to bend at the waist, loosened black tie pooling onto the floor beneath him as he leaned forward. Eventually, he was bent over in front of Asami, his face hovering a mere inch or so above the pointed toe of her high heels.
"Lick."
A hesitant tongue poked out from between Mako's lips. Asami drew in a breath as it finally made contact and a slim trail of saliva was drawn across the polished black material. She watched him for a minute, tentatively pulling the tip of his tongue around the front of her shoe. Asami's expression remained unchanged as her eyes flicked away from the back of Mako's head to the silver cuffs looped around his wrists, his arms locked behind him.
"Get up," she said, and Mako straightened, gaze turned up to meet hers. Asami let her arms fall loosely to her sides. "What was that, exactly?"
His brow slightly furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She slapped him. Asami propelled her hand upwards with a skillful twist of the hips, so quickly even she practically didn't see it coming. Before Mako knew it he was blinking moisture out of his eyes.
"S-sorry," he said automatically. Asami slapped him again. The crack of leather against Mako's cheek was chillingly sharp.
"What was that, exactly?" she asked again.
"I...I don't know what you me -"
She slapped him.
"I don't -"
She slapped him.
"Wait, please -!"
She slapped him.
"Your shoe!" Mako cried out, leaning back away from Asami as far as he could. "I was licking your shoe!"
She swung her hand up - and let it rest harmlessly against his reddened cheek. Mako nevertheless flinched in response. Asami offered him a small, empty smile as she stroked hot, flushed skin with her thumb.
"Is that what you call it?"
Mako swallowed before answering cautiously. "Y-yes?"
"I call it pathetic," Asami replied plainly. "Your lack of effort is insulting. Stand up."
He did so, pushing himself up with a slight wince onto his feet. Standing in heels, Asami could look him right in the eye as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. She undid each one, yanking Mako's tie from around his collar before undoing the last. And then Asami pulled the garment down, past his shoulders until it was bunched up around his waist. Underneath it, he was bare. Wiry curls of dark hair congregated on his chest, and skin pulled taut over lean muscle glistened with sweat.
"I'll be taking your belt," she told him, reaching down, "you won't be needing it."
"Asami," Mako said, eyeing it, "please. I said I'm sorry."
"Then we'll see, won't we?" she replied. The black leather strap fit neatly into her grip. She tapped it experimentally against her left palm. "Down, Boy."
Mako's throat pulsed as he descended once more to his knees.
"This time," Asami spoke down to him, "you're going to lick the shoe properly. Understand?"
"Yes."
She slapped him. Left hand this time. It left Mako gasping.
"Yes, what?"
"Mistress," he pushed out breathlessly. "Yes, Mistress!"
Asami paused. "Hmm. I don't like that. 'Mistress' makes me feel old." She slapped him, hard. "Do you think I look old, Mako? Is that why you did it?"
"NO!" he yelped when she slowly drew back her hand. "Please tell me what I should call you instead," Mako begged as it began to descend.
Asami thought about it, as she once more cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "Miss Sato. As my employees would; my subordinates," she replied, pushing her fingers up into his thick, dark hair. "But you are less than them, which is why you are on your knees, and why you are going to eagerly polish my heels with your tongue."
"But before you begin," she spoke, catching Mako with a sharp tug on his hair as he made to bow, "I am going to offer you some encouragement, as any good employer would."
Mako's eyes shifted to the left and grew round as Asami lifted her right arm. The loop that she had made with his belt sagged under the weight of the leather strap.
"Rest your brow on my foot," she said plainly.
"Please, Asa -"
She slapped him. He breathed hard as he turned back to face her, wincing even when she merely readjusted her grip on the belt.
"Miss Sato -"
"Rest your brow. On my foot," she told him. "Or would you rather I dug my heel here," Asami wondered aloud, pressing the sole of her shoe between Mako's legs without warning. She made no comment on the rigid length of manhood found there.
Mako was quick to get the message. Nevertheless, he swallowed hard, eyes tilted up in one last moment of supplication before he obeyed her instruction. Bowed forward with the toned muscle of his back on naked display, the man's submissive posture caused Asami to take a second to compose herself.
"I am going to encourage you three times," she told him, her voice commanding. She watched a shiver ripple down the length of Mako's spine, disappearing into the folds of his bunched up shirt. "After each one, you are to tell me exactly what you intend to do."
Crack!
Asami whipped the strap across Mako's back suddenly, without any further words to warn him. He cried out and jerked bodily.
"I'm going to lick your shoe!"
"You're going to lick whose shoe?"
"Miss Sato's," Mako hissed. "I'm going to lick your shoe, Miss Sato."
She smiled. "Good."
Crack!
"I'm going to lick your shoe, Miss Sato!"
"Hmm. I'm not convinced," she said. "Let's ensure it's understood what I expect of you, shall we, Mako?"
CRACK!
He screamed.
"What was that?" Asami asked pleasantly. "I didn't catch it."
"I'm...going to lick...your shoe," Mako squeezed out amidst heavy panting. Three red marks glowed brightly upon his skin.
"Like a dog?" Asami said, lowering the belt to his back and thoughtfully stroking each one.
"Any way you want me to, Miss Sato!" Mako yelled into the floor as leather teased against his skin.
"That's how I want you to do it," she replied, "like a cheating, lying dog. Understand?"
Mako nodded emphatically. Asami cleared her throat.
"Yes, Miss Sato!"
"Well then. Get to it."
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The Notebook