Presence

Finally he let me see him last night. Driving over, the anticipation was more excruciating than its been since the first time I asked him to flog me. He didn't speak, just tied my hands behind my back, and tethered me to a pole in his backyard. I knelt there, naked, with my head down, and he turned on his garden hose. The cold water was a shock, but I didn't try to avoid it, and I leaned forward when he told me to, letting the water spray against my ass and cunt. He soaked my body, then left me there, tied outside in the cold wind. He photographed me, then soaked me again later, and left me there until I suspected I would be there all night. The idea scared me, but I easily accepted it, and had he left me there overnight in the cold I would not have complained.

Finally he led me inside, still with my hands tied, and gave me a cold shower to wash off the dirt. He spoke to me coldly, only talking to direct my movements, and I obeyed in silence. In the bedroom, he told me to kneel and untied my hands, then whipped my ass and back with just a few strokes from the wet rope. It stung a lot, but my marks are pale. After drying myself I was allowed into his bed, where he fucked me holding my face down into the pillow, so that I could barely breathe.

I felt gratitude for every second that he bothered with me, and wanted only to please him. This is a rare thing for me - I am ashamed to say, my mind can be selfish when I am being fucked. But this time, I felt pleasure, but I didn't care about it. I had no desire to orgasm, just to be there to please him. I tried to move my body with his, not because I liked it, but because I knew he would like it. I felt completely, one hundred per cent dedicated only to him. Yes, my body responded with pleasure, and my orgasm was very strong when I was allowed it, but my mind was on him, and I would have happily gone without if it had pleased him to deny me.

He paused at one point and removed something from his bedside drawer. I didn't know what it was until he pressed it into my back: a knife. He has run blades over my body before, pressed them against my skin, made faint scratches on my breasts, and even fucked me with a knife before, but I have never been cut. This time he pushed the blade into the flesh of my ass cheek until warm blood ran out and down my skin. He stopped there - I very obviously enjoyed it far too much, and tonight was no time for a reward. But what a feeling... to lie still and willfully let him draw blood from me, as his possession. My body, my blood, my life... they are his.

Afterwards he let me sleep in his bed, though it was clear that I deserve much more punishment. I suspect more will come, but that was all for one night. I don't know how long it will take to earn his forgiveness, but I am overjoyed to have the chance.