I like the bruises…
On my inner thighs.
Circles of bruises, marking what’s His.
On my bottom.
Solid or speckled bruises, various shades of black, blue, and purple, reminding me with every movement that I am loved.
On my legs.
Small, light, indented bruises, the lasting evidence of a day apart, helping to soothe my soul.
And I never thought I’d say it, but I also love the cuts…
On my back.
The tiniest of lacerations, stinging in the shower, letting me relive the moments again and again.
On my ass.
Single drops of blood, pinpoint nicks against the whitest of skin, blatant evidence of limits erased.
On my arms.
Conspicuous scratches, whispering our secrets to those that would see.
I like all of the impact…
I like the hurt. I like the sting and the thud and the heat. I like the spreading and the melting. I like taking more than I think I can. I like when it stops being pain and sends me higher. I like the escape. I like the floating. I like the release. I like the lasting marks. I like that Sir does this to me. I like that He likes it. Mostly, I just like to feel it.
Sir, thank you for letting me feel all of it.