How About A Little Fire, Scarecrow?

He held the lighter toward my chest as I stood in the middle of the room, naked and freshly fucked.  I pulled my hair back out of the way.  He came closer.  I backed up.  I felt I should stand still, worried that backing away was disobedient, but still couldn't help myself.  I backed into a corner against his dresser and I could see on his face the pleasure my fear brought him.  He took hold of me and pulled me over his leg, not lighting me on fire but instead spanking me with his hand.  My head was spinning with lust, thrumming and fully alive as he let me go and reminded me I was supposed to be making his tea. 

Later on that night: 

 I lay on the floor of our room waiting for him to come back.  He'd already caned my ass hard and lightly on my tits.   When I saw him pick up the lighter I wanted to jump up, but only the top half of me made it up.  My lower body stayed in position.  Master ordered me to put my head back down and close my eyes.  I did so, trembling and shaking.   He frequently fucks with my mind this way.   I get so scared, but then when he puts the lighter away and does literally anything else I feel these waves of relief and desire coming over me.   I can say I hate it, but I love the things he does to my mind.

  I love it after he's done, anyway, and still dread the next time.