One Paddle is Not Enough

While I was at work the other day, Master was out with a friend at what is called a Kinky Flea Market. When I returned to Him after work, He brought me into the bedroom and showed me what He had bought that day. Two paddles. One a small paddle, one side covered with fur and under the fur little metal prickers that scratch the skin.Ooo. The other a long, solid wood paddle, smooth, polished to a gleam and heavy enough to scare me to look at. He made me touch it and feel it, and my heart pounded to do so.

He then used them on me for a long time. Paddles have never been my favorite thing. Both Master and my previous Master used a paddle to punish and correct me with. I have to admit though, He made it so very different from any of that. He made me enjoy it, and I confess, He made me do so against my will. I adore the power of my Master to do such things. Afterwards, while I was getting changed, Master followed me around the room, paddling me until I was done. Interesting way to get a woman to dress quickly, I couldn't do it fast enough.

He took me out for dinner, and then once home attached the chain to my collar and had me sit at His feet while we watched a movie He had picked up called Slave. It was lame and had nothing to do with either being a slave or the description on the cover. But the entire time He had me out, and had me sitting at His feet, the heat from the paddling burned through me in waves and I found it entrancing. The stinging and warmth lasted for a very long time.

It doesn't really surprise me that Master can make me enjoy and even be stimulated by something I thought I disliked. In the end, as His slave, I always bend to His will, and I guess having me learn to enjoy paddles was His will, for He used them again before putting me to bed that night.