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.
Of course, corner-time was just the start of the punishment - the prelude to the caning I had been nervously awaiting. In the time I stood there, quietly reminding myself of why this was necessary, I built up an enormity of anxious anticipation; my body already trembling ahead of the pain I didn't feel ready to take. I felt all my usual masochistic desires and tendencies leave my soul completely and just like that - the thought of experiencing pain became a very unattractive prospect.
As Sir came over and took me away from the corner, he told me to strip and bend over the arm of our sofa. His voice calm and collected but firm - probably more firm than I had ever heard him speak to me before; he reminded me of the reasons we were here and what I had done. His voice reassured me less than it cemented his disappointment into my heart - and it weighed heavy. Part of me wanted to fight his decision to punish me, call out in invalid safeword before we'd even started or maybe even try to talk him down but the better part of me told myself to remain composed, accept my failures and pay the consequence and so I arched my back and raised my ass and Sir hit.
It hurt.
The first stroke brought on the first tear and the same part of me that earlier wanted to fight this now wanted a sense of numbness to follow the force, a way to continue without mentally engaging but of course - I could not switch off and instead my own shame amplified the sensation of every strike, each one much more intense than the last. At the final hit, Sir held me. Wrapped in his loving arms, I cried into his chest as he told me he had forgiven me now and I must do the same and as he told me to close my eyes and envision stepping over an imaginary line - I did exactly that. And there came what we both so desperately needed - Closure.
My skin burned. Welts hurt me deeper than what could be seen on the surface of my reddened skin but my mind had been cleansed. The positive effects of his punishment came instantly; there was no wait for the result to show.
It is hard to explain to anyone who has never experienced this - how good it is to feel yourself becoming better; the transformation to a deeper submission starting to birth on the inside. Neither could I begin to explain the level of trust exchanged between two people to allow such an intimately intense moment to happen. It is wholesome - so complete that it leaves absolutely no room for doubt.
The welts lasted some four days, long enough that I could see and feel them every time I woke up in the mornings but the part of me that has been bettered, I hope will last for years to come and never leave me.
I am a stronger submissive today but I am only so because Sir took me there.
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