The very first blow on my behind cut like a knife. The pain was so intense, so sharp that I really did fear she may have cut me open, or at least drawn blood. I screamed again, knowing it was useless. Right up here in the attic no one could hear anyway. The whip snaked across my rump, over and over again, until my whole behind felt as if it was in flames. It seemed like it would never end. Was it worth it, enduring such pain for this woman? Did she care about me, or only her own thrill? I knew, despite my agony, that it was all worthwhile. I would endure anything for this woman, anything at all, if I thought it would please her. At that moment, as more blows rained down, I thought I would even die for her.
I know this sounds extravagant, melodramatic. But this was love, total love. If it
