Warm water and soap slide over my skin. A slight sting as the soap hits the belt of marks around my hips. Sir made the ring last night with the crop. Wide, square marks that overlap slightly, like laurel leaves in a victor’s wreath.

It is the first time impact play has made it to my front. It is startling. Almost everyone has had their bottom spanked for birthdays at some point. (Sometimes other people’s birthdays, too.) But impact play on the front side feels more transgressive. More serious. More real.

It scares me a bit. But that is also what pulls me to it.

Sir has sworn again that he is happy to hurt me, but that he will never injure me. I know this, but it bears repeating. Particularly when starting a new thing.

The warm water and soap have re-wakened the sensitivity of my skin. I shiver as I drag my fingertips across a slight welt. I cannot tell if I am wet from the shower or…


That is not because of the shower.

I circle my clit with my fingers. Around and around.

The first orgasm hits out of nowhere. I sink to my knees in the tub, riding it out. My voice, sounding rough and needy, whispers and groans.

I pause. It is a two-fer to completion day.

I start again.


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