It was bright daylight outside, and there was darker, more intimate and comforting light inside.
My loveslave, Arethusa, was getting the cane. Not for any misconduct, but for her Master’s pleasure, and, though she’d only admit that afterwards, hers. She’d feared it once, but since then it became her favourite instrument. The line of pain was so intense and so clear, like the mark it left for days after.
But she wanted comfort, which is darkness. I wanted her pain, which is bright.
So we did what we wanted together. And we took what we most needed. How, how much I needed her.
A lovely set of stripes.
I am looking forward to revisiting the cane at some point and learning to love it in some way
I’m glad you both got what you wanted, the marks from it are lovely.
Ohhh nice stripes
Do any of the loveslaves ever turn the cane on you?
The picture really came alive with your words, awesome!
Some really wonderful stripes!
The lines on her beautiful cheeks are so in harmony with the lines of light that seep through the curtains from the window