What Makes This Special.

Everyday Deviance. Femdom Erotica. Episode X37

He is on all fours, holding her leather glove in his mouth.

She is caning him.

The strokes are measured and hard. They arrive with a predictable rhythm.

He has been told that he must take the strokes without making noise.

He has been told that he must not drop the glove.

He has been told that he must hold the glove with his lips, not his teeth. If there are marks on the glove, he will be punished. But this is not a punishment caning. This is just discipline. This is to remind him of his place.

And all the while, she is questioning him. It’s just one question actually, delivered Marathon Man style, without context or explanation. One question that she asks him over and over.

“Slave, do you know what makes this caning special?”

He tried a few answers at first, but they were all wrong. He suspected it was a punishment for some unrealized infraction, but she assured him that it was not. He suggested some minor anniversary, but again he was met with correction for his wrong answer. After that it was apparent he had no idea, so he simply tried to take the strokes.

It’s difficult to keep from making noise, she’s hitting him very hard, but if he makes a sound, the glove will fall.

“Slave, do you know what makes this caning special?”

He begins to whimper slightly, and it prompts an even harder strike.

“Quiet. I’m tired of your whining.”

His arms are getting weak. He is starting to drool.

The pain is very real, but so is the scent of leather. The feel of it on his tongue.

The sight of her legs at the edge of his vision is making him hot.

And she says, “Do you know what’s special about this, slave? About what we’re doing now? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. This is just another ordinary day. This is just a Wednesday. This is just how you live now. Because it turns me on, because you can’t resist. Because you need it, and that makes me so wet. But more than anything else, because I say so. And we’re going to do more tomorrow, and more the next day and on and on and on. There’s nothing special about it, this is just what it means to be my slave.”

She strikes him so hard that he coughs, and the glove falls out of his mouth and drops to the floor.

She laughs with a start, as if pleasantly surprised by his mistake. Then she goes to one knee, so her face is inches from his. Her voice is gentle and overly sweet, a parody of a woman talking to a child.

“Well, little boy, it looks like I get to punish you now. So I guess this is special after all.”