The Joy of Enduring

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The world was black. I attempted to sense around with my arms and soles as I was dragged into the room. The utter muffle inwards the phat leather was deafening. I had no idea what to expect. I had been beaten before. I had worked for Paintoy where I was severely beaten. On Hardtied I was used sexually for pleasure. With OT however I didn't know what would happen. The iron was cold against my skin. The rod I was fastened to was too low for me to stand straight, but too high for me to kneel or sit. I could witness him testing my bod as I struggled. His warped mind imagining what hellish joys he might visit upon me. The instrument is more versatile than I could have ever imagined. He lowers it and hoists it to introduce my bod in whatever pose he wants it. It's so ordinary yet so cruel. When he ultimately approaches with the lash I can't help but flinch. I enjoy the sensing on my skin, but the crack gets me every time. His goal couldn't be any better as my nips and pleasure button are the very first to get his attention. My gratitude escapes my lips freely.