The haiku was supplied by Hidden Butterfly.

"Softly spanking me,

I cry out for more pleasure!

Erotic Torture"

This was the mantra that I repeated while kneeling. I was in the spanking position. I was on my knees with my legs spread as far I could get them and my head touching the ground. I stretched my arms before me. I raised my ass high in the air.

Master stood behind me listening, watching, and waiting. I loved to be on display for him. I loved it when he used me for his pleasure in the many positions he chose. I was his sex slave, here for his pleasure. He was my first love; he was my only love. He taught me the art of BDSM. As far back as I can remember I always wanted to serve and obey even before I knew what it meant to be a submissive.

I loved the feel of his whip on my ass. He did it out of love. I was never really a bad slave. I always tried to obey his every command, but sometimes I just needed the feel of his whip on me. To me, it showed that he loved me enough to make sure I knew what he wanted of me. Sometimes I just needed to know there were still boundaries.

I heard the crack of the whip before I felt it. Oh, the sound sent shivers down my back! I cried out when I felt the first whip touch the cheeks of my ass. I repeated the mantra again.

"Softly spanking me,

I cry out for more pleasure!

Erotic Torture"

The whip was an erotic torture, softly applied to my ass. It hurt just enough to cause the sting that made me cry out for more. He walked around me and applied the leather whip to my body again, this time on my back. He was always careful never to leave any lasting damage. The marks never remained more than a couple of days. He was not an abusive Master, just very loving and firm.

Oh, how I loved my Master. He was very tall, with long blonde hair and baby blue eyes. He always smelled of pine and sandalwood. He had a perfect tan with no tan lines (he tanned in the nude in our back yard). His cock was 9 inches long and 5 ½ inches round.

Master was a nudist. He hated to wear clothes. Therefore, he didn't allow me to wear clothes either, not that that bothered me. I preferred to be nude. We lived in a gated community that catered to the BDSM lifestyle, so going outside nude was okay.

He now stood at my head, because I could see the soles of his shoes. The whip cracked again and I felt it hit the crack of my ass.

"Softly spanking me,

I cry out for more pleasure!

Erotic Torture"

I again repeated the mantra, asking for more. This went on for 30 minutes. The Grandfather clock just sounded the half hour. I was soaked with the need for him to use my pussy. I wanted to beg him to finger my clit. I was on orgasm denial for 2 weeks. This was pure torture. He used me every night. He fucked me for what seemed like forever, bringing me to the edge, but not letting me have any release.