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“That’s right, naughty girl. You will spread your legs for me. I want to see that wet little pussy as I punish you,” he ordered, and my fingers dug into the table as I slowly moved one foot and then the other.
He moved to the side so that I could see him, and he reached down to his belt. I stared at him, unable to tear my eyes away as he unbuckled it and slid the tip free of the clasp. I gasped in surprise and fear. He’d used nothing more than his hand so far and that hurt enough. I knew that his belt would sting that much more, but I was so curious, and my clit throbbed hard. I gulped, gawking at him as he pulled the belt free from the loops of his slacks. It made a gentle swishing noise and my pussy tightened immediately at the sound of it.
He folded it over so that I could see it.
“You’re not using your hand?” I asked nervously.
He shook his head. “No, little girl. Tonight, you’re going to get a taste of my belt,” he warned, and he moved out of my sight. He tapped the belt against his palm several times and I struggled to keep my legs open as he’d asked. I knew he’d settled behind me because his free hand grazed against the middle of my back. He pressed down slightly, holding me in place for what was about to come.
My thighs trembled.
I’d imagined a moment like this for as long as I could remember, my dress pooled around my waist with my bottom entirely bare for a spanking with a belt and my body flooded with heat. Unintentionally, I lifted my hips a little bit, almost as if I was presenting myself for him to punish me. A soft moan escaped me, and my cheeks flared red hot. By the time he was through with me, my face would probably match my ass.
The belt tapped against my bottom once. It wasn’t a full swing, but it was enough to make me tense. This was going to feel so much different than his hand.
“You were late to dinner, weren’t you, my Cami-girl?” he asked, and I trembled.
“Yes,” I breathed.
My clit pulsed excitedly at the same time that my bottom clenched nervously. I swallowed hard as he pulled the belt away. I knew that he’d swung it back down by the sound of it cutting through the air and I flinched before it hit.
The crash of it against my backside was jarringly loud, but the line of fire that followed took me by surprise more than anything. My hands slapped onto the table as I tried to push myself up, but his hand held me firmly in place. It was as if I hadn’t tried to get up at all.
When a second one followed, all I could do was cry out. My mouth opened and I gasped, struggling as the fiery lash swelled hot for several seconds, only to fade into a painful ache that refused to quell. The sting of the belt was so much more intense than his hand and I bit my lip, trying to take it well simply because I wanted to impress him.
A third strike lashed both my bottom cheeks and I jerked against the table, closing my eyes. The third one had been harder than the rest, stinging hotter and more fiercely with every passing second. My thighs instinctually pressed together. My pussy felt so exposed and I suddenly worried that the belt might punish me there too.
A quick series of strikes peppered my backside, and I turned my head, pressing my forehead against the table as if it would help me in some way. I tried to squirm out of range of the wicked strap, but his hold left no doubt in my mind that he would keep me in place until my bottom was thoroughly reddened.
“Oh! Please! It hurts!” I cried out and he belted me even harder several times.
“It’s supposed to, naughty girl,” he answered, and I whined openly now even as my core spiraled with desire. “You were late twice now, and I aim to make an impression before I take care of this soaking wet little pussy.”
I yelped as he thrashed me. He was so thorough with that belt, punishing the upper portions of my bottom cheeks all the way down to the place where my thighs began. Then he went down even lower. One at a time, he attacked my upper thighs. I wailed at the sudden sting, overwhelmed at once by how much more viciously it hurt.
“Oh, please! I’m sorry!” I whimpered, but the belt continued to swing.
“Who decides when your spanking ends, little girl?” he asked, and my clit throbbed greedily as if it was asking for more chastisement.
“You!” I squeaked.
He lashed my bottom several more times with the belt, making me gasp and whine with each one. I soon worried if and when it might end. Could I take it? Would I cry? Did I want to?
My pussy pulsed hotter. I wanted to reach down and touch myself, but the belt kept licking my backside. I could feel each welt rising on my skin, scalding hot and when his hand pressed a bit more firmly against my back, I relaxed.
Something inside me switched and I relinquished control. My bottom lifted, seeking out each painful lash and the hard squeeze of desire soon followed. I whimpered, but it sounded more like a moan. He slowed, putting more force into each strike but pausing longer between each one.
The pain surged over me like a tidal wave, the sting cruel and ruthless at first, building higher and higher until it flowed away, only to be replaced by pleasure.
My hips rolled and another moan escaped me. In the interlude between beltings, I felt a single drop of arousal roll down my thigh.
“Please,” I begged.
I wasn’t asking for him to stop anymore. I wasn’t pleading for mercy. I was asking for more.
“Six more, little girl. They’re going to be hard,” he warned.
“Yes,” I whispered. I couldn’t hide my need at this point. I wanted more of the belt and there was no doubt in my mind that he knew it too.
