We all love marks. They symbolize ownership. They remind us of whom we belong to. The physical and emotional merge in that mark.
The handprints left on my ass, so red against my pale skin, they are reminiscent of the sting that came with each smack. Bent over and spanked makes me weak in the knees and wet in anticipation.
The paddle gives a fabulous slap! The cool leather has an altogether different feel….less personal and more down to business. When slapped hard enough, you can read the word written in the paddle. I love to see my temporary branding on me!
The flogger gives a thud and leaves me red in big patches. All of my skin is flushed and sensitive for Your touch. It is perfect for longer play sessions.
Bite marks are savage and primal. In the throes of passion, I beg to be devoured. The bruises that are left behind give a delicious ache whenever anything brushes over them.
All are wonderful, but the one that stays the longest, is the one that causes so many mixed emotions.
The industrial size permanent black marker! That bad boy lasts for days and days and days! You write Your words across my body and mark me as Yours. I do love that part. But…..the nurse in me can’t help but worry about what happens if I end up in the ER as a patient and everyone sees it?
Maybe it’s the thrill of getting caught that I love the most. 😉
