Page 34 of Dark Holiday

Doubling the belt over, I test it against my palm. Though well made, it still doesn’t pack the same punch as my belt at home. Every time the leather kisses my palm, delivering that crack of sound, she shivers. I watch, mesmerized as she sways towards me, begging, enticing. Who am I to not deliver?

The first whack sends her on her toes, her ass clenching a moment later. She comes back down but begins dancing in place. “Please. Please, Sir. Something is terribly wrong.”

“Oh? Is it?”

“Yes. With the plug. I think I’m allergic to the lube.”

Bending down, I spread her cheeks again, noting the normal amount of redness around her tight ring. “It looks just fine to me. What are your symptoms?”

“It burnsssss,” she wails, her bottom waving about.

“It’s supposed to do that. It’s called ginger oil, my dear. I plan to punish this naughty bottom both inside and out. Now then, where was I? Oh, that’s right. Two.” I let the belt fly again, and she howls, bucking under the pain I’m inflicting. It can’t be as bad as what she’s letting on. Then again, if my sources are correct, she’s never really played with anyone in a BDSM way. This could quite possibly be her first belting.

“Tell me, little one. Has any other man used a belt on you?”

She turns, spearing me with a spiteful look. “No. Not even my dad spanked me. Can’t we just talk this through like civil, rational adults?” I hear her words, but I also see her reactions. Her lower lips glisten with arousal; her eyes stare up at me, pleading. She doesn’t want me to stop, and neither do I.

“Very well, money it is.”

“No, wait. I -.”

“That’s what I thought.” Without hesitation, I lay two more stripes across her ass. The red from the welts glow even brighter in the lights. Rubbing my hand across the virgin skin, precum wells up my shaft as I feel the heat coming off of her. If this is indeed her first belting, she probably can’t take much more.

“I’m going to give you two more. These are going to be harder than the others. After that, you’re taking a trip over my knee.” Before she can protest, I lay down the next two strikes, ensuring I get an area I hadn’t hit before. She screams at me, nonsensical words that have no meaning.

Pulling her off the desk, I drag her over to the chair, draping her limp form over my lap. How many times have I dreamt about doing this? The fact that this is an actual punishment and not just for fun is of her own doing. Not mine. If I had my way, I would have eased her into this, but she forced my hand.

I rub the heated flesh, kneading it with my strong fingers. The moans pouring out of her are pure decadence. Wrapping my free hand around her waist, I draw her in closer, grinding the tip of my cock against her body. I don’t give her time to think or even protest. One by one, I bring my hand down, spanking her, chastising her.

She writhes against me, but this time, it’s not out of pain. Cindy groans as my hand keeps slapping her flesh, and truth be told, I’m groaning right along with her. Her body fits perfectly over me as if she were truly made for me. Pausing, I reach down, sliding my hand across her lower lips. God, but she’s soaking wet.

Her clit is hard and swollen as I run my fingers over it. Cindy moans again, grinding against me. Should I let her come? I pull back away, ignoring her protestations.

“Please. Oh, please.”

“Please, what?”

Again, she grinds against me, her hips wriggling at my touch. “Please just let me come.”

“Should I?” Reaching down, I tease her again, rubbing that hardened nub for a few more moments before dragging it away.

“Please, Daddy!” She wails.

Time stops for a moment, and I can hear the thud of my pulse in my ears over the sounds of her sniffling. Did she really just say that? My heart wars within itself. Though I’ve longed to hear those words, I need to know she means it. I can’t let my heart get swept up before I know the truth.

“I mean, Daniel. I mean, Sir. Please.”

“No. Say it again.” I smack her clit, emphasizing my order. The sound is wet and lurid but not as delightful as the pained groan Cindy gives.

“Please, Sir,” she wails, pulling away from my hand.

“No. That’s not what I want to hear.”

“I. I can’t. Please don’t make me say it again. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She breaks down sobbing. Meanwhile, I just stare at her back, numbness invading my heart. It’s just like fucking winter formal all over again.

I want to shove her off my lap and demand answers, but it’s clear to me that I don’t actually know her like I thought I did. “Stop lying to yourself, Cindy. You’ve already said it. Is it that hard to call me Daddy?” Pausing, I thread my fingers into her hair, easing her face around so I can see into her eyes. “Say it. Please.” Fuck vulnerability. If I have to pry myself open to get what I want, what I need, then I’ll do it.

“Don’t make me, Daniel. I can’t. I just can’t.” Her gaze is tumultuous, a clash of emotions all warring through her.