‘Yes, yes.’ I grasped on to this eagerly. I had often fantasised about being punished for masturbating.
‘So we have a genuine rule break to address,’ he said. ‘I think that calls for no knickers, don’t you?’
He paused and pulled the stretchy lace down to my stocking tops, baring my now rather warm bottom.
‘You’re wet,’ he said, crouching to inspect my exposed pussy. He prodded at the lips, holding them aside for a better view of the hidden guilty secrets. One long finger glided easily up inside me. ‘Very wet,’ he amended. ‘Not much of a punishment, is it, if it’s turning you on?’
‘I can’t help it,’ I protested. ‘My body does it for me.’
‘Perhaps we’ll have to think of something else. Something you really won’t enjoy. A nice big pile of washing up, maybe.’
‘Perhaps you’ll just have to spank harder,’ I prompted. This wasn’t funny, no matter what he thought, chuckling away up there with his finger shoved inside me.
‘Well, it’s worth a try, I suppose.’
He emptied my pussy and reverted to heating up my arse, but this time his technique was different, much faster and less predictable. It was infinitely more difficult to take and I was quick to squirm and yelp and try to pull my legs out from under him. He was having none of it, though, and he held me down, his fist in the small of my back like a human paperweight.
‘Feeling it now, are you?’
‘That. Really. Hurts,’ I complained, jerking my hips as best I could.
‘Do you want me to stop?’
I shook my head. The heat was building beautifully and I didn’t want to call time until my skin was tight with it.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t sure about this to begin with, but I think I like it now. I think I could take to this.’
I stuffed the cushion into my mouth, suppressing a howl as he laid a particularly wicked volley on both cheeks.
Be careful what you wish for.
‘Your arse looks gorgeous, all lit up and glowing,’ he gloated. ‘I think you might have created a monster, love. And we haven’t even got to the belt yet.’
‘Ow,’ I said. It seemed to encapsulate my emotions.
‘OK, let’s temper justice with mercy, shall we? I think that’ll do for your first time. Now.’ He put his forearm under my stomach and encouraged me gently on to my knees, with my face still buried in the cushion.
I heard the business of trousers being unzipped, fabric falling behind me.
‘Poor little pickle,’ he crooned.
I felt the tip of his cock butting into my juices.
‘God, you are so wet!’ he exclaimed, obviously impressed. ‘This’ll be like a knife going into butter.’
And it was. An exceptionally blunt, thick knife, right into my slippery slick butter dish, so to speak. I couldn’t get enough of him, pushing myself back on to him, especially when he rammed himself right up against my hot cheeks. He held my hips tight and I felt taken, owned, mastered. God, it was the hottest thing ever. When I came I bit into the cushion to stop myself screaming.
Afterwards, lying on the sofa all rumpled and hot and tired, he picked the belt up off the floor.
‘Didn’t even get to use this,’ he said, yawning. ‘But it’s coming to you. Happy Anniversary, love.’
I can’t wait.
15 July
We’ve had a busy few weeks, lots of overtime for Dan, and I’ve been trying to put together some summer-holiday workshops for my adolescents. Some additional family stress surrounding my mother-in-law (who else?) has also been ongoing, taking our attention away from our marriage and sex life to an extent.
We’ve fooled about a bit, but any kinky stuff has been spur-of-the-moment and limited to a few smacks with the wooden spoon while I’m making dinner or whatever.