Meekly, Jeremy bowed, gripped his ankles and presented his rear to Laura’s mercies. She doubled the belt and let it travel slowly around the muscular buttocks, drifting down the crack so that he twitched and almost fell forward, flicking it against the backs of his thighs so he had to part them just enough to stroke the smooth leather against his tightening balls.
“Don’t expect me to go easy on you,” Laura warned, and with that, she closed her fist around the end of the strap, swung it back and let it whip down, squarely in the centre of Jeremy’s bum, drawing a thick red line from edge to edge.
Jeremy released a fluttery little sound from his throat that could be interpreted as pleasure or pain. Not hard enough, thought Laura. I can fix that.
She put more muscle into the next stroke and laid it directly over the first. Jeremy grunted and rocked a little on his heels. Better.
Laura’s native sadism kicked into action, and she decided to concentrate each blow on that same strip of skin, plying the belt over and over, watching the weal redden and deepen, trying for a louder, more frightening swish and crack each time she pulled back her arm. Jeremy began to snuffle and yelp, then he began to breathe deeply, low sighs accompanying each exhalation, but Laura did not want to stop until he was begging, crying, blubbering for mercy.
“Ahh, not there again,” he finally relented when Laura aimed yet another stroke at that stripe of unfortunate epidermis. “Please.” He thrust out his bottom farther, as if encouraging her to aim lower, just to grant some relief to that poor sizzling strip.
“Here instead?” Laura found the spot directly below her purpling handiwork and decided to paint that a similar colour, laying the strap on again and again until once more Jeremy pleaded for a change of location.
It took five minutes, perhaps longer, for the entirety of Jeremy’s bottom and upper thighs to be flushed a uniform deep crimson, hot to the touch and presented to Laura’s satisfaction.
“Thank me,” she ordered, reaching out with a weary arm to check the temperature of his skin.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he mana
ged, his breathing rough and voice uneven.
“Properly. On your knees.”
He did as he was told, prostrating himself at Laura’s feet.
“Better,” she sniffed, prodding him with the toe of her patent leather boot. “I think the whole newsroom heard that. They’ll know why you’re squirming on your ergonomic chair while you type your apology for tomorrow’s paper later. Won’t they, Weill?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And they’ll know you deserved it too, won’t they?”
“Yes’m.”
Poor Jeremy. His cock was harder than granite. Still, she wasn’t sure he’d suffered enough yet. Release was still a distant prospect for him.
“So, you’ve been punished. Now you need to show me that you’re serious about making amends. I think you know how to do that.”
Laura sat back comfortably on the sofa and eased her skirt up her thighs, exposing her thong-covered pussy.
Jeremy was indeed familiar with the drill, and he shuffled forward, eager to please his beloved mistress. He kept his hands behind his back and let his face slide between Laura’s long, slender legs, taking deep lungfuls of her scent.
Laura lay back and prepared to enjoy the service. Soon Jeremy’s devoted face was burrowing into her thighs, his hot breath dampening the satin stretched over her clit. His nose pushed and his tongue dampened the fabric. Laura thrust her hips forward, grinding into his hungry face, showing him what she wanted next.
He received and understood the message, and his tongue’s wet tip foraged a path under the elastic, tasting the tangy juices within, lapping them up.
Laura abandoned herself to the pleasuring, feeling the slippery muscle tangle itself in her lips and suck at her clit. The way his face bumped and rubbed in her crotch was more than even the tightest-strung mistress could resist and, one by one, every nerve ending in her body gave itself over to the sensual stimulation.
She made him work, wore that tongue out, rubbed his face down until she could hold out no more and she granted him the favour of her orgasm, purring contentedly and rotating her hips, pushing his head down until he half suffocated in her copious flow.
“Mmm,” she said, letting him up for air. “Now, then. Stand up.”
He rose unsteadily, his cock still a thick pole, longing for a dip.
“Look at you. Poor boy. You need it bad, don’t you?”
“Please,” he whispered.
She shook her head and he groaned. “Fetch me the cock cage, Weill.”