You begin too light-hearted, joking with me, not being serious at all. I quickly move to change your attitude, demand respect and subservience. I put the thick rubber collar around neck and pull you by the o-ring. You apologize and bow your head. I instruct you to lay out all your toys on the ottoman. When you are done, I want you to bend over my lap. What implement of torture shall I use on you? There is my favorite red and black braided flogger, various weights, ropes, CBT devices, but looking at you, turned over on my lap, waiting in anticipation, I find no implement as perfect as my hand. THWACK! I start spanking you mercilessly, your skin turns pink, then red. I rake my nails over your tortured flesh, parallel, lines immediately emerge.
I find your facial expressions such a delight, I purposelly neglect to put on your spandex hood.
So many toys, so many boys, so little time . . .
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