(Inspired by the beauty of this artwork by @joschek )

He is approaching with the serious look he always has when he’s going to be inflicting pain on my body. Of course, I knew that was on the agenda the moment he grabbed me by my hair, contained the gasp fleeing from my mouth with is hands and led me to the sturdy wooden table. We have other specialty pieces of furniture for play and for other types of training. But this table is when he needs my pain.

He tied me with rough, fibery ropes. They scratch and dig. He ties them tight, but leaves several inches of slack between my body and the anchor points on the table. With Master’s favorite heels on my feet and with the bondage, my thighs are positioned where the edge of the table can press deep into the soft tissue. Between the discomfort that brings and my lack of practice in these shoes, I have to work to maintain balance. My thighs and calves will soon be screaming from the effort.

Of course, Master could have secured me down flat onto the table. That would have taken away more of my freedom but also granted me more rest. Master wants this to be difficult. He wants this to hurt. And he wants me to have to try, REALLY try, hard, to maintain this position while he whips me. No relying on ropes. The ropes are to make it harder. Not easier.

I open wide and my mouth is immediately filled with hard rubber, sterile rubber. It fills my mouth most of the way but still allows my high-pitched yelps to escape. Master put me through much trial and error to find this correct balance. He says the gag makes my mouth so much prettier, but he still loves hearing my cry and beg. I’m just glad Master thinks I’m pretty.

He makes me wait. I do not enjoy this time. The anticipation of his stinging blow is uncomfortable. Master relishes my mental and my physical anguish. And I am overjoyed to share it with him.

Suddenly the searing pain shoots through me. Every time I’m shocked breathless by it. My body goes rigid, head shooting straight up, eyes instantly filled with tears, and I shriek.

I bury my face into my arms and sob from the pain. I’m allowed to show my pain. It is not considered weakness. Not at all.

My ass still ringing from the pain, I compose myself and turn to look at Master. He is so pleased. I am ready to give him more. Or rather, for him to take more. He pets my head lovingly, saying without words that I am his good girl.