You know, discipline is a particular weakness of mine. I love the precision of it — the sharp sound before the reaction, the moment of anticipation that hangs in the air. That tension is the perfect soundtrack. This time, though, his cries were kept under control. I secured a gag to silence his whimpers and covered his eyes so he couldn’t predict when the next strike would land. He knew what was coming, of course. The expectation alone was enough to make him tremble — and he was honored to be part of it. After all, boots like these aren’t meant to stand still. They’re meant to remind a slave exactly where he belongs.
