Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The paddling cure

Master had the glint in his eyes last night.  The one that tells me I'm probably in for some use later on. 

Sure enough, he pulled a paddle out and ordered me across his lap at the first opportunity.   At first it felt really, really good.  I came.   After a long while, it was getting so hard to take I started kicking.   Not at him, just kicking in general.    I tried wiggling away.

"Are you trying to get away from me?"   He demanded, in THAT tone.  

"Master, Master, Master...." I was pleading for something; I don't know what.  Forgiveness?  Stopping?  More paddling?  I don't know.  Pick two, any two. 

But after that I held still.


It was definitely a cure for my case of the blahs, since I feel all freshly-fucked-flowers wonderful today.    


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