Developing delusions of equality is one of the greatest moral sins for My most favourite slave.
His punishment is days of groveling. I convert something the slave enjoyed into harsh discipline. Feeling as though I might again allow him to offer personal service, I will not maim or injure his body.
The slave is forbidden to walk or crawl. Movement is achieved by wriggling. The floors are smooth do not ease his punishment. Friction rubs his body. His flesh is raw. Uneven movement tugs at his skin, he bruises himself.
He must push his body to Me when I pass. Then he licks My sandals until kicked away. Shoe worship was his delight. His tongue has become worn and ragged. His mouth is coated with accumulated dirt and filth. Nastiness is overwhelming.
Dehydrated, he is desperate for fluid. His day began by licking My footprints from the floor. That was hours ago.
Exhausted, he can barely continue. I motivate My slave in two ways.
The sole of a sandal crushes his scrotal sac. I laugh at his agonizing spasms.
I have My flogger as well. He has burst into tears several times this morning. His body mops them up as he struggles forward.
The slave wants to beg for mercy. If he pleaded for forgiveness, I might flog his back and shoulders.
Prostrate, he cannot grovel more obsequiously.
He is not guilty of pride. His informality was inadvertent. He realized his mistake instantly.
It was too late.
A mere chattel, he was helpless before My pleasure. He could only cringe.
Despite his anguish and pain, he feels lucky. I might have tossed him in the pit. Or sentenced him to hard labor as a galley slave.
Personal punishment, taking so much of My time, gives him hope I will forgive him.
