He won’t tell her why she’s being punished, just that she is. She knows she hasn’t done anything particularly wrong. He knows it, too. 

But he’ll still tie her down and call her all sorts of vile names as he shoves her panties into her mouth. She’ll groan as the fabric scrapes her tongue before becoming engorged with her own saliva. She’ll squeal as she feels the tails of the flogger trace over her exposed rear. She’ll tell herself she did nothing wrong at all. She’ll insist that she doesn’t deserve this.

Smack. She reminds herself how good she’s been. How sweet she is, how selfless. How she serves so willingly. She could not have possibly done anything wrong. She’s his good girl. His perfect little pet.

Smack. The hit lands square on her crack again. Tears warm the corners of her eyes and blur the sight of her bound wrist. She heaves a breath behind the panties. The familiar taste of herself is being dissolved by her saliva and the material’s new thickness nearly makes her gag. 

Smack. She grunts behind the panties. Tears hit her cheeks, the bedspread. She’s a good girl. This is just proof of it. She’s enduring this for him. 

Smack. She cries out around the cotton wedged into her mouth. Her body bucks forward violently. She’s done something, she knows it. Somewhere. She’ll make something up. She’ll identify something she’s already been punished for. She is willing to fill in the gaps for him. 

Smack. She deserves this. She’s been very bad. This is her punishment. She needs it. She deserves it. She doesn’t need a reason, an explanation, an example. She just needs.