This Friday afternoon was very unusual for me. It was unusual because, you know, bad habits happen so easily: I thought I would receive special treatment from you. Like a chosen one. But no. You put me with the others, all the others, and all I saw were men's buttocks in front of me, and I saw myself like them, on all fours and naked, hands on my head, and nothing from you that indicated you considered me more important than anyone else. Quite the opposite, in fact. I was slapped, spat on, subjected to hurtful remarks, and even kicked. I had to endure a spanking from a mistress, but above all, blows to the testicles, lying on my back and whimpering. All I wanted was to see you, and I started getting an erection when I saw you in front of me, above me. I wished I could have gotten as hard as I wanted and offered you my penis – “I am yours!” "Your turn! Your turn!" he cried. But no: instead, your remarks put me in my place.
And then something astonishing happened: I really focused on the dictation , because there too I wanted to stand out. Just like at school. And expecting a "Well done, Daniel" from you. Stupid, isn't it?... It wasn't a game! I truly wanted to be worthy of you, and in the end, I made seven mistakes. It hurt me deeply. I felt terrible. Before you'd even corrected my paper, you crumpled a piece of it into a ball and shoved it in my mouth, and while you left me there on all fours, completely ignoring me, I started drooling uncontrollably. Which was profoundly humiliating. It was the "president" who, when I had to get on the teacher's lap to receive my spanking, thought to remove the ball of paper so I could count the strokes. Not you. I was definitely treated the same as everyone else. I no longer had any rights whatsoever, other than those that others had, or didn't have. But I repeat, what struck me was that what was supposed to be a game was no longer one for me. For I longed for only one thing: for you to single me out a little before the end. To be able to rub my head against your legs, against your thighs.
What you finally granted me. With incredible kindness, after I explained that I had just learned of the death of my friend Maurice, who was my first mentor, and who would have been so happy for me to see me at the feet of the most beautiful Mistress imaginable. You were magnificent in your kindness and understanding.
And then I found myself against you again at the very end, dreaming against your thigh, and do you know what I was dreaming about?... That I was against your thigh! It was Pascal who burst the dream bubble; it was time to return to reality.
But thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Daniel
