Chapter Four
When I look in his eyes, his compassionate affection greets me, but a severity resides in there too as if he believes, as much as I do, that I deserve to be made penitent and humble. I suppose this would be recompense in the Utopian North. I should ask him, but I rather like not knowing how this world works. I figure I’m only borrowing it until I find I don’t fit here anymore.
When he whips me, I hate the pain, but the physical satisfaction at the end prevents my stopping him. Then too, sometimes the pain becomes the sweetest pleasure. I c*m now because I love him. There’s a gentle man behind the harsh lashings and he never leaves me cold. I wonder if he’s ever angry. Such calm. He displays the serenity of a god, the compassion of a doting mother and the wisdom of a
