Just imagine you are giving your slave a very nice spanking. Bare-handed, bare-fleshed. You start with some light warm-up slaps, kinda gentle and tingly but soon you are truly spanking her bottom, the smacks coming in quick succession.
It is getting increasingly painful and she begins to struggle a bit, trying in vain to move away from your hand. I should mention you have restrained her hands and she is unable to get away or block your blows. She begins to whimper and cry out but her pride prevents her from begging you to stop.
You sense this and know she must be broken; pride in her own ability is not a necessary thing for a slave. You need to show her who controls her. Who decides when she has had enough and when she must take more.
You pick up a leather strap and wrap it around your fist, leaving about a foot free. The first strike of that on her tender, red flesh makes her scream out. You intersperse each hit with a caress of your hand or, more sadistically, swipe of an ice cube on the emerging welts.
You are asking her, "who is your Master?" and she is sobbing, "Oh my Master, you are my Master." After five stripes have been laid she is crying and begging for you to release her but you are not through interrogating her.
You stand her up and afix her bound hands to the hook in the wall placed for that purpose. (It also holds coats but you put it in a supporting beam for a reason lol)
You begin applying the leather strap with great love and desire to her breasts and nipples watching the color bloom across them from the strikes. Her tear-stained face is turned up to you in agony but also in love, in hopes of mercy and salvation. You can see the pride is gone, she is yours totally and completely.
You ask her, "where is your pride now, slave?" and she confesses, "I have nothing, am nothing, without you, oh my Master."
Just a couple of more hits to drive the point home and she sighs gratefully when you release her hands. She drops to her knees and her hair is touching your feet. She looks up at you and says, "May I?". You nod assent and she bends over to kiss your feet, her lips tasting her still-warm tears. Now tears of love and gratitude instead of pain and lessons learned.
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This was written by me as a creative expression of a deep-seated fantasy. I am obedient but I don't really like to share so please, write your own material. :-)
