I had begun to think that Sir had lost interest in me, and started to feel foolish, posed like this, just waiting. Ridiculous, I thought, that I’m just stuck here while he does whatever. Is this what it means to be submissive? Cause maybe I’m just stupid, I dunno…

I was so busy arguing with myself that I didn’t notice he had finished his conversation until I sensed him quite close behind me. Then, quicker than I can say it, his hand was between my legs, landing with a bit of a pop that made me cry out.

“Good girl,” he said, “You held your position very well while I was on that call. Now it’s time for the spanking. I’ll make sure it is worth waiting for.”

I smiled at that, even though I was pretty sure the spanking would not be something to laugh about for me.

“As a reward,” he went on, “I’ll let you pick the toy I use.” I was not thrilled – and he knew full well that I wasn’t. I hated having to pick. But he went, “Do you want the crop, the wooden paddle – the big one – or the leather strap?”

Well, that was actually an easy choice, and I was relieved to say that I chose the leather strap. I half expected him to change his mind, but instead I felt the strap caressing my ass. He stroked me gently, so sensuous that I moaned. He caressed the back of my thighs with it, and then my inner thighs, until I whimpered and moved my ass, savoring the touch of the cool leather.

One last tender stroke, and then a moment of stillness – a quick swish as he swung the strap – and the sting across my ass as it landed. I cried out, as much from the shock as from pain. The strap creates a lovely sting that seems to settle quickly and sort of ripple away.

Don’t misunderstand me, it hurts, it definitely hurts, and particularly when he aims it directly at my sit spot or the backs of my thighs. But somehow there is something I love about the moment of two after that, so I cry out and then I sigh or moan softly.

I don’t know how many strokes he has given me when he pauses – enough that my bottom feels quite hot and tingly and I would have been ok if he stopped there. Instead, I smell lube and “Spread your cheeks for me,” he says.

Moving slowly, just a bit disoriented, I bring my arms from my over my head back to my ass, one hand one each sore cheek, opening myself wide as he has taught me to do. He takes his time pushing the plug into the tight entrance, but I am feeling so submissive there is very little resistance, and he settles it firmly in place quite easily.

I hear myself whimper, but it is not from any pain, it is just the sensation of slipping deeper into submission, as if I have no will or desires of my own. I am fully open to him now, his to use in any way he chooses.

“Move your hands,” he says, “I don’t want to hit your hands.” I bring them back up over my head, holding on the edge of the ottoman.

The strap lands with a louder whack. at least it seems louder to me, but I am absorbing the blows, breathing into them, feeling my body soften, my heart open. I moan a little, but it is the image – almost the sensation – of his cock in my mouth that is in my mind.