When Abel and I are apart, we email - as much as my currently dying laptop and his travels allow. This morning, I got a following report about his day:

Went to the top two fetish shops which had some superb stuff in them - prepare to go owwww when you get home.

Even now, I can feel my bottom clench in anticipation. I catch myself guessing. He’s in America, so it won’t be a cane. (They’re a bother to fly transatlantic, anyway.) There’s a carousel of straps, paddles, crops, quirts, floggers and all things whippy and stingy dancing before my eyes.

He said “owwww” like that, with four “w”s, I wonder if that’s significant - that the implement in question is less fierce than one that would merit five “w”s, but more severe than one that just makes you go “oww”?

…One week of separation down, three still to go.

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