Sir helped me stand on the bench to reach the ceiling. He whipped and caned me all the time I wrote. It takes longer with this delicious distraction. The marks appearing on my body excite Sir and the taps grow to hits. The sound of the bamboo on skin is intoxicating. He broke the torture by invading His cunt with His tongue. The pleasure inducing His girls eye to roll. Then the leather of the whip flays wrapping around my body while I try to script the chalk words on the ceiling. My hand shakes as I try to make it readable and coherent.
The more my rules appear on the walls and ceiling the more they are in my constant view. Snippets of slick cunts and presented breasts for His pleasure. The non negotiables are ever present in my vision and in my minds eye. I will learn my rules this way, word for word. I read the lines as the tortures continue. I admit to loving this. The omnipresence and omnipotence of the rules as the girl is worked upon.
Rule number 4 is on the ceiling.
I will be cuffed and chained for sleeping always. I will be ready for His pleasure always. Sleeping without restraints will be considered a reward to be decided at His discretion. This is NOT negotiable.