I knelt there, my bum sticking up and bare, and felt kind of vulnerable. He smacked it a few times, then showed me his black flexible paddle, which marks the word ‘slut’ on your skin. He thwacked the middle of my butt with it.
“Is that sore?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said truthfully. I was pretty nervous about what was to come, though. He’d bought me and now I was his commodity, he could do anything.In my pseudo-reality he was the cruel sadist, the despotic lord or oportunistic bachelor, my Roland, who appears in different incarnations. I found him once in Sade’s Justine, by this name, which was a wild coincidence. (I suppose that’s why I chose the pseudonym ‘Roland’ for this guy).
He paddled me with it, the sound of the slaps ringing out loudly as each one left a stinging imprint on my bum. It hurt a lot, especially when he repeatedly struck the same spot near the centre of my butt. I felt tears in my eyes which shocked me as I so rarely cry. I was yelping or squealing each time he hit me, though occassionally I managed not to cry out or move at all. He askedif I wanted a break and I said no, and he continued paddling me. After a bit, he went to fiddle with his camera and so I did get a short break. He wandered bak over and smacked my rear again. I said, “You should draw a target.”
He drew a circle in with a red office board marker, then 3 more circles. “And then the bullseye,” he said, pulling my cheeks apart, and I yelped when he did that because it hurt a bit. He thought it was funny. “And the numbers,” I reminded him. Roland marked in the numbers – 10 to 50 points, and said “fifty is the bullseye,” and I wondered if he was going to stick the pen inside me again but he laughed and said “but it’s too small, isn’t it? I can’t – The bulleye is too small.” Which was really funny.
Roland hefted his ‘slut’ paddle and said, “okay, we’ll aim for some 10 points, shall we.” He cracked me two near my sit spot. “Shall we say, five ten points?” He continued in this way until he’d got ten that were worth 25 points and had gotten every score except 50.
He picked up the wooden dog brush and rolled it around in his fingers. He set it down on the sofa next to me.
“This is a brush, isn’t it?” he said, “A dog brush. Turn to the camera, and tell the camera what this dog brush is for.”
“For…brushing dogs?” I whimpered, with tears in my eyes. My bottom hurt quite a bit.
“No. Why is it here, today?”
This was very humiliating for me. “…To…spank me.” I whispered.
“Say it louder. Say it to the camera,” Roland ordered.
“To spank me,” I said slowly.
“Yes,” said Roland, and he moved behind me and smacked me over and over with it. I wriggled and yelped the whole time. Then he let me rest. I knew the flogger and cane were still to come, though.