‘zander and I were reading this and both thought, “Wow, replace ‘Sir’ with ‘Daddy” and you capture our lives perfectly…it almost reads like a poem.
Waiting in my bedroom
No matter how many times, it’s always the worst. Marching up there to wait for Sir. Knowing what awaits.
Getting teary-eyed thinking about the pain as I sit on my bed –facing the wall so I cannot see Sir in the hall when he approaches.
Rationalizing how I will never get in this position again. Thinking of perhaps some deal I can propose to Sir to get out of the spanking and maybe get a different punishment.
Then hearing Sir stirring around and at some point making his way upstairs. Then hearing him on the steps. Some times I start to whimper right then.
And soon thereafter, bent over, getting my bare bottom blistered, and crying and promising and pleading without a shred of dignity.
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