Catamite Pt. 19

There was an all over body limpness and a curious sort of drifting euphoria that came from the prolonged exposure to pain. It was a cold winter afternoon, the windows sealed tight with the frost high up on the glass and himself feeling the hard edge of a wooden trunk under him pressing into his skin while waiting for the next strike. He couldn’t see her, belly down and with his shirt hiked and the waist of his pants at calf level, but she wasn’t making an effort to hide the timing of the cane, so he had ample warning before the impacts.

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