The belt

There I was. Lying on the hotel bed. I was naked. Wearing nothing but my black hold-ups. Even though it was cold outside, I didn’t need a blanket. The heat from the sex I just experienced was still keeping me warm.

He was next to me. Caressing my body. Looking at me. I smiled. He took a deep breath and sat up. He looked up and down my body, turned to the edge of the bed and started sorting his things. Then he finally found what he was looking for.

I knew that sound. A belt was removed from his pants.

He sat back up, next to me. I looked back. Waiting. But he just sat there. Inspecting the belt. Folding it and unfolding it. I waited. I knew what was going to happen. I asked for it before we met. But having him take his time made me get more nervous, more excited, more wet.

With just a little gesture he told me to get on all fours. There I was. On the bed, on all fours. And again waiting. Then the belt finally met my ass.

It stung. He waited for it to faint and used the belt again. And again. And again.
“It hurts more here”, with that the belt marked my thighs.
After repeating that a few times, he got up and walk on the other side of the bed.

Each lash was a bit harder than the one before. Ever time he waited for me to get up on all fours again, before continuing.

I was surprised by how much it hurt and kept wondering whether he was doing it harder than the men before him or if I was simply not used to it anymore. It had been a long time since I felt the belt.

Then the final lash hit me. I rolled on my side. I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to take the next one.

He sat down next to me and looked at me, while his hand caressed my bottom. I looked up to him and smiled.
“Thank you”, I said. He smiled.

The problem with getting what I want, in this case, feeling the belt, after such a long time, left me wanting more and more.