I lay on the bench in the playroom on my stomach, my hands and feet cuffed to the corners. I wait there silently, dreading my punishment. I hope that he will go easy on me still because I really didn't mean to disobey him. I'm new to having my own Master.
Finally, Master approaches me. I can see that he has something in his hand.
"Count," he says to me.
"Yes, Master," I reply.
I feel a paddle hit my bare cheeks, and I let out a small squeak of surprise and pain before saying, "One."
He hits me again, and it stings even more. "Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Nine."
"Ten."
Finally, he stops, and he rubs my bright red flesh where he hit me.
"I'm sorry, pet," he says softly. "I don't like to punish you."
Then why do you do it so much? I ask him in my he
