“What happened?” my new lover asks, horrified.
My dress is too short. Bent over, marks from last night appeared. Those lovely, blooming bruises — purple-hued rainbows — had surfaced, a living reminder of the whip.
I smile wickedly, and she realizes I displayed my hidden self intentionally.
Her education begins now.
—–
NOTE: This was written in response to a poetry prompt for FridayFix on Medium. [Free link to nicer version with photo](https://medium.com/the-friday-fix/true-colors-63834a62d65a?source=friends_link&sk=a1377ae77f073000071fa4ba504c8a3b) along with the poem prompt.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/g7bite/true_colors_50word_microfiction
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