A new day.
The sting of the water against the pain He inflicted reminds me I am His.
The touch of the cloth against the pain He gave me reminds me I am His.
The look of the scars from the pain He dealt me reminds me I am His.
It is a gift, this pain. A gift to me from Him. And a gift to Him from me. He gives me the pain I so desperately desire, and I give Him my screams, my moans, my body to do with as He pleases.
And it pleases Him. Oh, yes. The smile on His face, the hiss of His breath, the half whispered "yessss...", the hardness of His cock as I wince or moan or scream, the pleasure in His very being as my pain and my pleasure-and now they are so close to the same thing that I can no longer distinguish one from the other and I crave them both-bring Him to that ultimate moment...these are my spies, His betrayers. He cannot hide His enjoyment from me, He cannot conceal His delight.
And thus I am His.
And He is mine. My Master.
Laters