It didn’t matter what the exact pose was. Every time I bent over in yoga class, the memories came rushing back. Being outside on the park grass – knowing that others could see me – only intensified the memory of my humiliation. Once, the flashbacks were so vivid that I noticed myself becoming wet.
His eyes on me. The sound of his belt unbuckling, and pulling through his pant loops. The fear that my punishment might finally be more than I could bear. The humiliation of knowing that my naked butt was on full display, and completely at his disposal. I couldn’t even bend over to pick a penny off the ground without hearing his voice, and the soft scolding I received before I was whipped.
“You have been a very bad girl, Corina. I am going to give you the punishment that you deserve. And once your whipping is over, you will remain in position, so that I may have my way with you. You can cry. You can moan. You can even come if you’d like. But if you move out of position, you will be very..very sorry.”
“Yes, Sir!” It was the only reply that I was allowed.
I was fully submitted. I was in heaven.