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"It hurts when I sit today. . . ."
That was all I heard before the voice trailed
away, lost amid the jumbled and confused bustle of evening commuters.
Looking around didn't help. I couldn't figure
out who'd said it and there was no one in sight doing any telltale
rubbing. My own bottom tingled at the words, experiencing residual
memories. How long had it been since I'd sat gingerly, my sweet-spot
just above my thighs so sore it was a burning aching band? How
long since sitting had really hurt and flexing the muscles to
stand up again hurt even more?
I brushed dampness from my brow with the back
of my hand. Was this a fellow perv, brave enough to speak the
words in public? Or someone with lower back pain or, worse still,
some poor soul with haemorrhoids?
I knew which I wanted it to be.
My breath came in just slightly ragged gasps
as thoughts came unbidden.
Someone who'd been bound, I thought. Tied
so they could move the tiniest bit, could feel their clothes
covering the wrong parts, leaving bare their waist, hips and
thighs. Tied so they could squirm just a little. But tied so
they couldn't wipe away the beads of liquid sweat and desire
that trickled down the backs of their legs. Down the inside
too as the need to move became unbearable. I wanted them to
have been tied until they itched.
And tied so they could be punished.
My mind raced as I walked as if on autopilot
toward my train and found a seat.
Someone punished with something small and
innocent looking. The switch, thin as a blade of grass, a supple
one that stung like bees. The switch giving birth to sounds
of pleading: stop, start, anything but this. Taking my someone
beyond words. Harder and harder now, the switch criss-crossing,
cutting fine welts into someone's skin, forcing out whimpers,
Leaving welts, red and raw, across the back
of the thighs and bottom. Hurting as the skin stretched. Hurting
almost too much to sit on, the sting a constant reminder of
the night before.
This was my wish for my anonymous friend as
it is my prayer for myself.
My tissue caught a tear as the familiar landscape
rolled by my unseeing eyes.
Back to Mija's
Back to the treehouse