A few weeks ago I had this idea of writing an epistolary story from the point of view of a female submissive writing emails to her male dominant. I never finished it, but here’s some of what I wrote:
Dear Sir,
I don’t understand why you make me write you emails. I can text you much more quickly. But this is the way you want me to communicate with you, so I’m going to be a good girl and do as you say.
My bottom is still sore. I know that makes you smile to hear it. Even though it’s been three days since you spanked me, it still hurts when I sit down, and I have bruises that are just now starting to fade.
I love our intense sessions. I love that you beat me to within an inch of what I can take, and then push me beyond it. I can’t wait until we do it again.
Love,
Your girl
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Dear Sir,
Okay, I guess I get it. Your words are so detailed and so gorgeous, and they make me tingle whenever I read them. Are you really going to cane my inner thighs next time? I can only imagine what the bruises will look like.
Love,
Your girl
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Dear Sir,
It felt so good to cry for you yesterday. I always thought you would make me cry from a spanking, but I’ve never cried during sex before. You were mean, and it was delicious. You slapped my face and I felt shame; you slapped my breasts and I felt pain.
I didn’t mean to make that rhyme. Sorry.
That bite mark on my shoulder is going to need to be covered up for at least a week. I love it.
Love,
Your girl
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Dear Sir,
I don’t know who taught you how to find those pressure points under my arms, but if I ever meet them I’m going to kick them in the shin. I’m in so much pain today.
Love,
Your girl
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Dear Sir,
We’ve done a lot of stuff together, but you making me take off my panties at the table and hand them to you, where anyone could see (but I don’t think they did), made me so wet that I wanted to throw myself on the table and let you fuck me right there. Waiting until we got to your house was torture.
Waiting even longer made me want to scream.
Then you made me scream.
Love,
Your girl