dominajen:

Know what I love?

I love having a boy standing in front of me, naked, his legs spread and his hands behind his back.

He’s watching me with an mix of dread, affection, desire, and fear on his face.

He knows I’m about to hurt him. He knows, and he waits, standing completely still, ready to take whatever I decide to give him. His eyes dart downward, to the narrow wooden paddle in my hand, and then he takes a breath, bracing himself, the slightest tremble in his thighs as he forces himself to keep his body open for me.

It’s not the act of hitting him that I love most. It’s the way he accepts that I’m going to hit him because I love watching him squirm. I love seeing the dread in his face, and watching his obedience override it.

When I hit him, when the paddle connects between his legs, I love the way he bends forward, crying out as he drops to his knees.

He gasps, panting, and then, slowly, he rises back up, standing up straight, his legs spread, and his hands behind his back.

He knows I’m going to do it again.