There will be fifteen contacts, hits from the tawse and the cane. Three to my cunt, six each to breasts and bottom. I vibrate and chatter in cool fear and say very little.
It will hurt, I loath to be hurt but I love him and he loves to hurt me. He's a cruel bastard, a sick and sadistic fuck, but where else would I rather be? Where could I go...
Resignation is a quiet space.
He makes me select where I'm going to be hit first. I pick my cunt. He makes me lie on my back on the footstool, tuck my knees up and spread myself. I take the three. It's difficult, I falter at points but its done The tears are heavy. I count every stroke.
He's smiling at me, drawing in smooth breaths. I can see his cock twitch a little with the satisfaction. He tells me how much he loves to hurt me and I am hurting.
Breasts next. He attacks those with a fibre glass cane. The pain is searing and white. I can do nothing but lean forward and shake out breaths. He does me damage. He touches the marks and I hate him. I count each stroke. He's somewhere else and I'm afraid and I still shake and I'm sweating. He gives me another cigarette and tells me to sit up straight so that he can look at my breasts and admire his work.
Finally my bottom. Same cane. Same number. These hits evoke squeals and bouncing around and tears and I take them when I don't think I can and I count them all out and I'm relieved with its over and out of my head and happy that I've done what he wants. He's high and tripping on power and pushing white smoke out between his lips. He fixes us a drink and intermittently strokes my marks while I try not to spill it all over myself.
We go back to bed and grope and touch and he sucks my sore breasts and licks my red swollen cunt and fucks both my holes and I climax ad I am in pain, burning, bruised and bloody pain and I'm still in pain now.
Ive looked in the mirror and seen the results, the marks stack up and my body looks a mess, but if this is how he wants it this is how it is.
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