Wanton Wednesday: Discipline

I lie supine, spread-eagled and bound upon the bed, my eyes shut tight behind the blindfold my Master has placed, concentrating on the blows being rained upon me by His hand, by the cruel horsehair flogger.

I revel in the pain as it drives me to the place I need to go.  I grow more quiet as I get there, focusing on it.  My breathing slows and gets deeper; I moan softly as I continue to arch into the blows.

I feel... connected.  Grounded.  The white heat of pain takes me beyond the muddle of my thoughts and pushes me to a plane where I can pay attention.  To my breathing.  To my Master.  To the growing arousal.  To my submission.

He senses that I have reached my space and drops the flogger, running His hands again over my flaming flesh and between my legs to feel how very wet I am.

"Yours, Master... always..."

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