Subject change

I'm going to pretend that I did not write that last blog post. It is not there. The last thing I wrote about was the corner, which is another subject best to be avoided in tenuous times like these, but an improvement over the latest. (What a difference a few days make.)

I am tired of discussing my bottom: the particulars of its demise, the whens and hows of its tutelage. Describing in detail the positioning, the barked commands of my tender drill sergeant, how my insides turn to melted chocolate and ooze all over like a freshly baked cookie. I'm tired of detailing how my internal heat surpasses that of my cheeks as he sets them blazing with the hairbrush, how my feet kick free of my pants and how my panties tangle around my knees as a reminder, in case I have forgotten, of my inescapable vulnerability.

Yes, I am quite obviously tired of discussing such things.

So tired, in fact, that I must sleep. I must sleep with my bared bottom free of blankets as it luxuriates, for once, in the advantages of room temperature only experienced while in its naturally white state.