I revel in what I can do to your body, in what I can make you feel. Regardless of the instrument of your experience, you will go to places that cannot be reached outside of this room. You will travel to spaces within your mind and psyche that relieve you and release you from your mundane world, refreshing your soul to return to it.

The marks that are drawn across your skin that rise up to meet me, the purple pucker of subcutaneous capillaries surrendering to my ministrations, these are the road maps I outline for your reprieves. Your skin swells and ripples, hardens and churns, molded with each strike to ease your navigation to familiar lands, shadow places of mercy and peace.

For all this, your sacrifice is recognized and appreciated. Let my fingers linger over the rivers and valleys, the ridges and hills I have created for you, and feel the soft sweetness of security; for your show of discipline, you are adored, you are kept, you are loved.

When the sweat glistens on your skin, telling the tale of your fortitude and strength, I will know we are close. When you arch and writhe, when you whimper and whine, resisting the urge to call to an early end, I will know we are very close. And when you no longer flinch between strikes, when you have relaxed your body into the new reality of a mortal coil flooded with hormones and chemicals and delicious opiatic states, I will know we have arrived.

I will wrap you in warmth and appreciation, my precious canvas. I will pet your head and let you know how proud of you I am that you have gone so much further than you ever imagined. You have submitted to the journey of the self, and I, your guide, have made you both the map and the territory.

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