Swinging the paddle as hard as I do is exhausting, but also exhilarating. Physically, I pour all my power into each stroke on this slave's pudgy ass; mentally, I draw fresh power from each cry of pain coming back from his slackening mouth. My slave is in agony; I am in ecstasy. “Who's your queen?” I ask, briefly pausing. “Queen Darla,” he manages.

I batter his buns red and raw, the skin red and gory. To most women it would be a repulsive sight, but to me it's an abstract expressionist masterpiece, flung-red paint on a cunt-pink canvas. I tell him how good he looks, admirin... Show more