In the Bathroom

The moment Master finally put me down on the cold tiled floor, my knees wobbled. My body was still buzzing from the way he had carried me here, slung over his broad shoulder like I weighed nothing at all. His palm prints burned hot on my backside from those two sharp spanks he gave me along the way. I could still feel the sting echoing with every small movement, a mix of pain and thrill, and I knew that was exactly how he liked it—his marks always on me, reminders of who I belonged to.