Between Strikes
The slap of a ruler on her pussy, hard, stinging - then the inevitable wait for the next one.
Time passes. Oh! Doesn't it just. The air, thick with the sound of tick-tocking, And the harsh exhales of breath. Eyes flickering, desperate for light, In the overwhelming darkness. The pull of hands and feet, useless Against the chains of helplessness. She can't touch it, she can't see it, But she can feel the sting. The sharpness of the wooden ruler And not for the first time, does she yelp. Her mons vibrates, her legs...