Welcome to Saturday. I’m happily celebrating my birthday (still) but fear not, I’m still leaving you my weekly delivery of delicious #SatSpanks! This time is from my current WIP (the one I’ve been working on all week,) and we join it mid-punishment…
He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his palm does the talking, reddening my backside with short, sharp swats, which send me a definite message. I am in charge, Madelaine. You will stay where I put you – where you are bound. You will endure…
And that’s what I do. I tolerate the onslaught, registering each strike as it lands, and trying to imagine where it has landed on my helpless bottom. I accept each delivery for what it is – his mastery of me – and I suffer for him, because it’s what we both need to happen.
I lose count of the strikes around thirty, each blending and blurring into one blistering punishment, and it’s around then that it happens. Something shifts in me. There’s a change, and it’s new and disquieting. The spanks still fall, and the pain still registers, but it’s different now. Now, I welcome it, relishing the sensation of it all. I push my ass back to meet his hand, my hips flexing of their own accord.
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