Butterflies rage fiercely in my stomach
It’s maddening not seeing what he is doing
Only hearing his movement and the unzipping of bags.
My senses are on edge
I flinch as he approaches behind me and makes me face him.
That look he gives me, those words he says,
I cannot bear to look him in the eye.
He guides me to bend over the chair
I jump as the hairbrush comes down hard across my bottom.
I feel his hand at the small of my back
Keeping me in my place.
He asks me a question
As I hear the cane swish through the air.
But the words stick in my throat
SWIIIISH CRAAAACK! SWIIIISH CRAAAACK!
The sting of the cane reverberates through me
I know the answers
Why won’t they come more easily?
His tone, those words,
Are like a pin prick to my heart
Tears fall silently down my face
The taste of salt and regret reaches my lips
I gasp as the strap connects hard and fast with my tender flesh
The swats continue as my mind battles itself.
I can’t take the pain. Yes, I can.
I earned this. I need this.
Submission overcomes me, that word I cannot say aloud.
Why do I fight it so?
He always wins
We both do.
He breaks me
Then helps put the pieces back together
“I don’t want to have to do this again. But I will.”
“I know, sir. I know.”