Remnants

After he made me kneel on the rice, the scars lasted for longer than I anticipated. Small red welts covered the delicate space just below my knees.
I was angry at first, pouting that my body had weakened enough to show the memory of his work. But the more I saw them, the more they allowed me to remember that moment, kneeling in front of him, begging with only my eyes and tears. I could feel the sting of him slap on my face again. I smelled the sweat which dampened my chest as I became more and more resilient.
That is, until I touch them. Days later, I am masturbating, taking another break from the day or waking up, or finding some other excuse to cum.
My knees are bent, my hand buried in my cunt. I am soaking, working towards cumming, trying to pull back and wait, forcing myself to be patient.
I rub my clit slowly, flicking it, rubbing it in slow circles over and over. My mind wanders here and there, but it goes blank when I hit a nerve and a shudder runs down my spine.
My other fingers are slowly moving in and out of my cunt. Nothing too fast, nothing too thrilling, simply the enjoyment of the feeling of my fingers moving over the throbbing walls of my pussy. I love to be fucked deeply, to gasp as a cock hits the hilt of my cunt. But that's not today. Today is easy.
I begin to work myself up once more, noting that the time is ticking away and I do have things to get back to today. My fingers begin to work faster, making my toes curl around the edge of the bed. I was impatient now, waiting to cum and get up so I could go and finish the list of things waiting for me this afternoon.
The pressure inside me began to build. My legs grow tight in want. My muscles tense and wait. I want to push myself over the edge slowly and cascade down.
But then I touch them. One hand on my cunt, I take the other, still slicked with juices, and wrap it around my bent knee, pressing directly into the cuts which still burn, igniting pain I was not anticipating.
The shock is not unwelcome by a long shot. The moment of kneeling for him flood back. My fingers begin to press harder, tender spots stinging and making me want to cry while it shoots back down through my spine like an electric shock.
I cum. I cum hard. I cum harder than I was anticipating. I cum harder than I remember cumming in ages. I explode, squirting onto the unprotected sheets, juices dripping down and between the flesh of my ass. I am covered.
The sting hangs on for hours after I have cum. The clean up takes ages. I am again angry and wet and horny and frustrated. What bliss.