Erotica Excerpt: The Iron

"Now," I reached over and took the iron. I showed it to him, held it close to his face so he could feel the heat. "Why is this going to happen?"

He made some sort of excuse about the oven cleaner. I moved the iron closer and said, "No, it's not about the oven cleaner. What is it really about?"

"I disappointed you."

I smiled and squealed. "Good boy! And what will you do in the future?"

"Everything you want, exactly how you want it."

I was so excited I laughed with joy. It was time. I let the iron steam against the side of his face. He yelped, but more from being startled than from pain.

"We'll begin with ten seconds. You can handle that easily, right?"

He nodded vigorously. I pressed the towel over his cock, and then pressed the iron on it. I started breathing faster---but no, I must calm down. I must not peak in my pleasure too soon. I was already soaking wet, but that wasn't important.

Five, six, seven, eight...

He squirmed and moaned, tensing his body and pulling on his restraints. I knew where he was: he was approaching pain, in the throes of discomfort. He was more afraid than suffering. The suffering would come later.

The first moments always took me back to my childhood when, for reasons beyond the eight year old me, I would spank the dogs of our neighbors, punishing them by locking them in closets. I was completely confused by this deep, exquisite pleasure and was helpless before it. I remember so many moments when I felt compelled, as if by an outside force, to take my pleasure in these ways.

I figured it all out eventually, after shedding the shame that coupled the confusion. I wasn't confused now. I knew exactly what I was doing.