The Disciplinarian

He arrives at the dungeon on time and rings the door bell as instructed. I open the door and usher him in with a look and a point. It is a windy, rainy and blustery afternoon. The door shuts and the lock is turned.

I take a hold of his left earlobe and swiftly pull him along, holding him close. My heels clicking down the long corridor on My way to the Main Dungeon. He shuffles along hastily behind Me. I walk with purpose. It's punishment time.

I order him to remove his clothing, fit him with locking wrist cuffs, bend him over the bench, and secure him to the forged metal rings.
I apply thigh and ankle restraints followed by a waist belt to make sure he does not go anywhere. It's punishment time.

I tell him that I am going to begin and he is to remain stoic.
I monitor his breathing as I deliver the first strikes from the rattan.
There is no warm up with this punishment.

I administer the necessary caning and when I am done, his butt resembles a piece of rare art. I release him from his bondage and he collapses to the floor in a puddle of blood, sweat and tears. The room is filled with endorphins and I drink them in like a glass of fine wine, relishing in the momentary power that he has given Me.
He thanks Me profusely as he is permitted to kiss My feet.
I tell him - you are welcome.