Up until now I’ve taken plenty of time between one strike and the next, to allow you to fully recover your composure and to add to the anticipation in the room. And I’ll be honest it is also for my pleasure. Just as I prefer to unwrap a present slowly, or even set it aside until later in the day, so my arousal is intensified by the waiting.
I enjoy seeing you naked, even more so when that nakedness is accentuated by the fact that parts of you are still covered. Naked from the waist down is somehow even more erotic than if you were totally naked. It is a manifestation of your confidence and daring that in other circumstances than this would shock.
I enjoy seeing you bent forward on your knees as you are now, your pert bottom in the air, your thighs slightly parted. It communicates submission but more importantly trust. You cannot see what is happening behind you but you submit and trust in whatever I may choose to do to you. That I may choose to do whatever I wish and know you are accepting of that, is a huge turn on for me.
I enjoy paying close attention to how your body is reacting and preparing. The slight glistening of sweat, the residual tremors from the last stroke, the spreading and deepening colour.
My mind pictures what I am going to do to you, and this at least doubles the pleasure. The more I think about it and how you will respond, the more my desire grows.
But this time I set aside all that and the ninth stroke that lands whilst you are still sobbing catches you by surprise. It is more howl than scream that emanates from your mouth, and for the first time you lose your grip and momentarily slump onto the padded bar. Your hands instinctively fly back to protect your ass from a pain that is becoming unbearable but as soon as they touch you yell out again as the skin is too raw to take your own touch. Perhaps I should have bound your wrists after all. You return your hands to the bar and gasp and sob uncontrollably.
Nine strokes you have taken and there is only one left yet suddenly it feels to you like too much to bear. I can see you gritting your teeth and sense the mental fight in which you are now engaged. And the noise around us has dropped to almost a complete hush as everyone is transfixed by the unexpected drama. If you would only look up and see the eyes upon you, you would see every pair willing you to prevail in your war of mind over body.
I was never in doubt. I’ve never met anyone with a stronger mind and such a high pain threshold. As the seconds tick past your tears slacken and I can see the grip returning to your muscles. Your breathing is starting to steady too. And round the room everyone else relaxes and starts to smile. For the first time since we began I walk round and kneel in front of you and take your wet face protectively in my hands. I kiss you on the forehead like a father would his child. And then I look into your eyes and convey the intensity of my love with the kindest of smiles. Just one more. Then another whole world of pleasure awaits.
You smile back and the connection between us feels so deep, and so meaningful that the world could have emptied around us. I kiss you once more on your forehead and rise and walk deliberately back to where your shimmering hot ass awaits me. Just one more. I feel the weight of the belt in my hand. I wrap it round and round until it is a tight coil across my palm, and then unwind it to the right length. And then I do that again, buying time for my own churning emotions of love to settle. Just one more. I reach out with my left hand and push the folds of your wedding dress a little higher up your back. I let my hand dawdle on your taut skin, enjoying the touch, then I step back and line myself up. In the near total silence I can hear your breathing. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, open them again, and with all the force I can muster, hurl the woven band with the sharpest of cracks against your quivering red bottom.
The pain you feel and express into the room this time is unlike anything we have known before. It is so raw and overwhelming, yet somehow everything we both wanted. And whilst your screams are deafening in reality, they are muffled to me, in that strange way that happens in rapid descent on a flight. My consciousness is elsewhere, a mix of intense arousal that is evident in the extreme pressure in my jeans and the wetness I can feel on the head of my cock, and a transcendental love for you. And as you gasp for air, then scream again as the heat continues to sear across your backside, know you feel that too. I recover myself, walk round in front of you, and unbutton my jeans. I see your eyes acknowledge me through your tears and as I push the waistband down my cock springs out, as hard as I have ever known it. And then I take your head in my hands and stifle your cries by pushing my cock deep into your mouth.
