I imagine the way an ordinary day might begin…
I would rise and prepare you a bath before you wake. Your breakfast could be served in bed, but if the day is particularly fine, it could be waiting for you outside on the terrace under the trees with fresh coffee and your tablet waiting. After breakfast we'd discuss your appointments to determine the best use of my time. On a bad day, you might tell me to go 'downstairs'. This instruction unfolds like a macro for me, we’ve done it so many times. I go to the basement where, in a marble tiled bathroom, I prepare. There will be no relaxing sauna today. Once I’m completely dry, I make my way to the exercise room where I will wait. The bench is where I'm pointed, a gentle nudge of encouragement given with the paddle. I climb onto the bench with my knees on their padded rests, my legs well apart. I lie down along its length. In this position I am unable to clench my buttocks. I slip my hands into the large leather gloves that are permanently affixed to the bench's legs. Once I'm inside them, I'm unable to clench my fists. My calves and thighs are also secured with straps. A wide leather halter is laid across my back, threaded through a buckle and cinched in tight. Finally, your hand, rested upon my shoulder. I can't count the number of times I have spanked. So many strokes! Never too many! Hurting so much so that tears are often unavoidable. Cathartic, cleansing, calming tears that will pass quickly. She knows when she has given enough and only then, will she stop, and I will be released. The fiery welts will remind me of my penance all day long. Tomorrow might even begin this way.
