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The first of those six took my breath away. The second one made me gasp. The third made me question my sanity and the fourth licked the tops of my thighs hard enough to make me wail. The fifth lashed the place where my bottom met my thighs, hard enough that I knew I would feel it every time I sat down the next day.
I had one more to go. He used his foot to spread my legs a bit wider and I whimpered. He tapped the belt against my pussy one time, and I stiffened, a sudden flare of intense fear and arousal hurtling through me with wild abandon.
“The last one is going to be here, naughty girl,” he announced.
“Please, not there,” I whispered.
“You’ve been touching this needy little pussy without my permission, haven’t you, Cami?” he asked.
“Yes,” I wailed.
“In your room this afternoon. Sometimes late at night. Tell me, who are you thinking about when your fingers steal between your thighs?” he pressed and I squirmed against him, inadvertently rubbing my pussy against the belt.
“You,” I whispered hoarsely.
“That was very naughty, wasn’t it, little girl?”
“It was,” I whined.
“Ask me to punish this bare little pussy with my belt,” he ordered, and my clit throbbed so hard it ached.
“But it will hurt!” I exclaimed.
“I know it will, but that is exactly what’s making you so very wet right now, isn’t it?”
I knew he was right. I both loathed and loved that he was. My breathing quickened and my pussy clenched reflexively with desire.
“Yes!” I wailed.
“Ask for the last one, little girl,” he pushed.
“Please punish my bare pussy with your belt,” I breathed, tightening my thighs, and trying to keep my legs spread at the same time.
The belt swept up between my thighs for that sixth and final strike, slapping against my tender wet folds hard enough to cause a burning sting to radiate across my most sensitive place. Immediately, my pussy felt scalded by the leather strap, and I rose on my tiptoes, trying to take it as the agony started to crest. It quite literally felt like my pussy was on fire and I whined and wailed until it finally began to fade into a more gradual stinging ache.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, and I slowly relaxed against the table once more. Now that my spanking was over, the sore burn washed over me. My bottom and pussy ached, and I felt thoroughly chastised and more aroused than ever.
“May I reach back and touch it?” I asked anxiously.
“You may, little girl. Your bare bottom is bright red and marked quite beautifully from my belt,” he answered. He drew his hand away from my back, no longer holding me down. When I reached my hand back, he lightly grasped my wrist and guided me to touch one of the rising welts. It felt hot to the touch and a sudden sense of pride blossomed through me. I’d taken that. I hadn’t kicked or flailed too much. I’d taken Mason’s belt and now, hopefully, he’d fuck me with his cock.
“Do you like it?” I asked nervously.
“I do, little girl. Seeing you bent over the table with your bottom thoroughly belted is making my cock very hard,” he groaned, and I gasped with aroused hope.
He spent a few more moments studying me, dragging his fingers over my scalded backside, and just glancing against the insides of my thighs. He didn’t touch me where I wanted him to touch me the most though, much to my chagrin. My hips moved to seek out his touch, trying in vain to angle myself just right so that he would slip those fingers inside me.
“Are you ready for the fucking that you’ve needed since I took you over my knee last night, little girl?”
“Yes! Please!” I begged.
“You will ask me for it, little girl,” he demanded. His tone was firm, leaving no room for anything else. I would do as he instructed, or I wouldn’t get fucked.
“Please…” I began. I lost my nerve for a moment, but when I began again, I lifted my hips and committed. I wanted his cock and I wanted it badly.
“Please fuck me,” I whispered hoarsely, my face flushing with shame.
“What does a little girl call the man who spanks her bare bottom when she’s been a very naughty girl?” he replied, catching me off guard. I furrowed my brow, unsure of what he was insinuating for a second before I gulped hard, recognizing what he wanted and desperately wanting to not say it.
