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Control is the centre piece of my life and it is the foundation of which keeps my feet grounded.
It is something I rely on - to make my days run smoothly and effortlessly; to instil and encourage my wealth of self-confidence and peace of mind. It is the pivotal point of which I govern my entire life around - but I do not have it, I do not own it and it is not mine...
Stood facing the blank white walls of our lounge, I wanted to cry.
All the emotions I knew I'd feel were there but much more profound than I imagined they would be. Shame, guilt, disappointment.
I could feel Sir's eyes occasionally checking over on me, watching as I stood silent - thinking about my earlier infractions. The room was quiet except for the sounds of his thinking and mine. Ten minutes is a short passage of time but wrists bound and nose so close to the plasterboard - it seemed to last beyond what felt remotely comfortable.
I'm apprehensive. I'm due a punishment and I believe Sir has chosen the one he knows will hit the hardest, both literally and emotionally.
Now I'm not naïve enough to believe I don't deserve it; infact, I'm fully aware that my behaviour of late has more than warranted a punishment to be served. This doesn't mean I want it though.
Of course, no submissive ever desires to be punished but sometimes it's a necessity and in my case wherever there's a need for punishment - it will almost always be necessary.
