‘Is that what you want?’
She gasped, feeling the leather strip pressed between her legs, flat against her lips. He rubbed it up and down for a minute and she knew she was getting it thoroughly wet and shiny.
‘Hmm?’
She hadn’t answered him, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t tell him that she wanted that leather to fall on her bottom with a good, smart crack.
‘Aren’t you going to answer my question. Oh!’ His
exclamation came after he removed the belt from its juicy resting place. ‘This is soaking. Well, I guess I don’t need you to tell me any more than that, do I?’
The slick length of it was laid across both cheeks of her bottom and held there, leaving a little residue of her own wetness when he took it away.
Its next appearance was under her nose, held there by him, wrapped around his knuckles as he proffered it.
‘Give it a good sniff,’ he said, crouching in front of her. ‘Go on.’
She breathed in a lungful of its heavenly scent. If the leather itself had already been redolent of sex, now it was even more so.
‘Kiss it,’ he urged. ‘Kiss the strap.’
She placed her lips upon it. He pushed it right up against her mouth, twisting it gently, as she smooched it in a growing fever.
‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Kiss it harder. Worship it. Put your tongue on it. You know where it’s going next, don’t you?’
She moaned into the thick wad, which was now in her mouth, between her teeth.
Once it was licked into shiny wetness, he took it back, returned to her rear and then gave her what she craved – a long, hot bar of sting across her bottom. The noise it made was wonderful; much better than the flogger. But it hurt more than the flogger and she knew he hadn’t hit hard. It had only been a flick really.
‘How’s that?’ he asked. ‘More painful when it’s wet, I’m told.’
‘Sore,’ she said, but she put all the satisfaction she felt into her voice. ‘But good. Really good.’
‘Want more?’
‘Please.’
‘Well, since you ask so nicely …’
The second stroke was stronger, a solid rectangle along the lower curve of her cheeks. She felt it sink in, then felt the hard smack of the third above it.
‘Keep that bum high,’ warned Jason, flicking at her thighs with the V-tongued end of the belt. ‘Up as high as you can. No slacking.’
She gritted her teeth in her efforts to maintain her position. She wanted to feel more, wanted the heat to grow and spread through her body. She cried out with each stroke, but pushed her bottom up to show that she wasn’t crying out in distress.
‘Oh, you’re so right for this,’ he said, after the sixth or seventh. ‘You’re a fucking natural. Tell me when to stop.’
The leather scorched through her, and she took stroke after stroke, wanting more, even when he became more heavy-handed and cruel. She was in a kind of delirium, fascinated to know how hot and sore she was capable of feeling before it became unbearable. The answer, it seemed, was ‘very’, for she only called a halt after more than two dozen heavy strokes, once her skin felt tight and so sensitive the mere tap of a finger would make her wince.
He dropped the belt on to her bottom, from where it glided off into the grass, as if it had a life of its own.
She was still puffing out as if she’d run the length of town when Jason took off his jeans, dropped to his knees behind her and took a hold of her hips.
‘You’re bright red, babe. So hot. I’ve got to have you.’
He eased his hard erection underneath her and let it soak in her juices for a few moments before flexing back and lining himself up.
She was more than ready for him and she let out a deep ‘ah’ of welcome when he pushed into her at a stroke.