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He couldn’t.
I started to beg. I pleaded for him to reconsider. I told him I was sorry, over and over again, but he ignored me. Instead, he removed his fingers from my bottom and grasped me around the waist. He lifted me up and deposited me over a fallen log. I watched with nervous fear as he picked up the thick black leather belt he’d put aside.
I could still feel the ache from his touch all over my bottom hole. My flesh stung from his palm and now I nervously waited for my spanking to begin with my very own belt. The terrible leather swung back and forth, an extremely menacing warning of what was to come.
He ignored my pleas. I had known he would. He laid that belt across my bare backside, its cool caress haunting and intimidating, and I feared him in that moment.
The first stroke from that belt was like a bolt of lightning searing into my flesh. It burned hot as fire and the air rushed out of my lungs in a single breath. I struggled to draw in another as the belt whipped against my naked ass once more.
The switching he’d given me before had been harsh, but it was nothing like this. This was far more intense, brutal even and there was nothing I could do but take it. I felt helpless and when the belt fell again, my breath hitched in my throat.
I had a feeling that this was going to break me.
Little did I know just how much it would.
He whipped me hard with that belt, over and over until I was sure that my entire bottom was welted from it. My fingers dug into the log, trying to hold on and keep myself from reaching backwards to stop him. The pace of the thrashing slowly increased, and I felt myself losing more and more control until the first tear rolled down my cheek.
Then I lost it all.
One tear fell after the next until they dripped off my chin down into the dirt below. The belt didn’t stop, nor did it slow down, welting my backside again and again as it hammered in the message that he would always be the alpha and I, the omega.
He was in charge. I wasn’t.
He whipped my naked bottom until I was sobbing and then he thrashed it some more. By the time he finally stopped, I was a bawling mess of tears and apologies and even then, I knew it wasn’t over.
He laid my shirt on the log beside me, before he lifted me up off of it and placed me on my back. He took the end of the belt and snapped it against my pussy, not even giving me the chance to prepare myself for its awful sting. I cried out and my thighs instinctively tried to close, but his hand prevented that from happening so that he could whip my poor little pussy with that awful piece of leather. He didn’t stop there though. He used that same leather hide to whip both of my nipples, one after the other in quick succession and I yelped in surprise, unable to defend myself. When my hands came down to cover my breasts, he grabbed at my wrists. Then he used a long vine to bind them together before he tied it above my head, ensuring that I wouldn’t get in his way as he punished my sensitive nipples and the even more delicate place between my legs.
He would strap one breast at a time, lashing that tiny hard bud until I cried out, tears dripping down my face as the terrible burn consumed me like fire. I whimpered and begged, but nothing stopped the eventual downfall of that belt on my tender chest.
At first, he just concentrated on my nipples. He didn’t just stop there though. He used the end of the belt to spank the rest of my breasts. I could see the red marks rising on my pale skin and I continued to cry because it hurt so very much.
He took that belt between my legs once more.
“This little pussy is going to be just as red as your bottom by the time I’m through with you,” he warned, and I keened with both fear and arousal.
I wanted to hate it. I wanted to hate him for his cruelty, for his harshness when he dealt with me, but I couldn’t.
Not when my body was reacting like this. Pain and pleasure twisted together in a depraved inferno of sensation, leaving me breathless with arousal. Even as tears rolled down my cheeks, wetness seeped from my pussy and he could see every last glistening droplet of it on my thighs.
The belt whipped between my legs once more and my clit pulsed with need. My cries of pain morphed into something that sounded more like passionate moans for more.
He laid the belt just below my breasts and his punishing fingers delved in the place he had just so cruelly punished. They glided along my scalded flesh and I keened. Even the gentlest touch hurt, reigniting the fiery burn from the lash. Carefully, he spread my pussy open and revealed my hard and very needy clit to his view. He put me on display for him.
He lifted the belt once more.
“No. Please. I’m sorry. Please don’t, sir,” I pleaded.
Again, my pleas fell on deaf ears.
He whipped the belt three times. It fell directly onto my clit and I screamed, even as my pussy spasmed with arousal.
“You protest, little mate, but you’re so much wetter now that this little pussy has been properly spanked,” he said firmly.
I knew it was true. I was wetter and when he pressed two fingers directly inside my pussy, his advance was made easy by the sheer amount of arousal leaking down my thighs. He pumped those fingers in and out of me roughly and I moaned, lifting my hips for him.
Fuck.
I wanted him so badly.
