Quote Originally Posted by jeanne View Post
As soon as we entered the room you put me on my knees, between yours while you sat in a chair...took my throat in your hand and put your face right up to mine. Told me I was to never leave you again. That if I asked for release again you'd beat me until I changed my mind. Now I have to admit, a part of me at that moment thought 'yeah, right'........until you slapped my face. Again and again. And spit in my mouth. That shocked and surprised me - and I realized you were extremely serious. Thank God you were - I needed that, milord. Then you stood up, bent me over, and beat me 5 times with the rod portion of a crop. Hard. It was brutal, milord. And I was fighting back tears, fighting to not shame myself by begging you to stop. I was still crying when you said you forgave me and then fed me your cock so I could thank you properly.

Thank you, milord. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for wanting me. Thank you for keeping my submissive heart firmly in your grasp - and for knowing and understanding that I needed to know how deeply I am yours.

We had talked briefly about how you would atone and you said you wanted to think about it but never brought it up again. So when I asked you what you had considered and you had nothing for me, it reminded me of how angry I had been that you had left me... how angry I was that I let you leave against my better judgement.

How much the words 'never again' meant to me and that they should mean as much to you... all you described above was an outpouring of six months of needing you to understand... and now you do.

You call the crop brutal, and perhaps it was because of the intent behind it. It needed to be unpleasant... it had to exist outside of anything we'd ever done for pleasure. I've actually never cropped anyone like that before (outside of a scene...) and when later I learned your previous enjoyment of being cropped (by another, before me,) had to do with the stinger... and not the rod... I could only roll my eyes... had I known, you would have received but a single stroke as a symbol.

But I didn't know that you didn't realize a cropping meant the rod. You took five... no less because perhaps you were too stunned to react to the first three, no more because more would have been punishment instead of atonement... and you'd already been forgiven.

And it was perfection. What came before didn't matter. Only the future is of concern.