On the fourth smack I moved lower, letting the tip of the belt fully connect with her arsehole and she squealed.
“Don’t, please! Don’t hit me there!”
“Keep those legs spread and I’ll hit you wherever I like.”
Whereveryoulike. You like this too, don’t you?
“Unless you’d like me not to absolve you?” I tested. “Just say the word, Charlotte, and we’ll stop.”
Eyes downcast, Charlotte shook her head and I realized I’d been holding my breath.
I raised my belt again.
On the fifth stroke tears began to gleam in her eyes, but her cunt glistened. I knew if I examined my leather, I’d find it wet with her juices.
Smack.
I laid a sixth stroke high, hoping to connect fully with her sensitive nub. When Charlotte screamed, I laid another and was rewarded with another scream as her legs folded.
“You have three seconds to spread your legs again or we’ll repeat that stroke,” I told her.
“Please, no more,” she begged as she complied.
“Good girl,” I said when she presented her pussy again.
“Please, Colt, no more, please.”
“You have three more coming, but that was your last warning. If your legs collapse again, we’ll repeat the stroke.”
Gritting her teeth, I watched Charlotte resolve to take her punishment and I gave her the eighth and ninth strokes with medium force.
The tenth, however, was my hardest yet. I knew it was cruel, knew I was a bastard. But thinking about how she’d snuck off, how she’d endangered herself -- endangered all of us, strengthened my resolve.
Charlotte broke position completely, crying and whining as she curled onto her side and held herself between her legs.
“Did I say you could rub?” I asked, incredulous.
“Noo…” she sobbed. “But I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry! It just hurt so much.”
“Back into position.”
Her eyes widened. “No, Colt, please.”
“Into position.”
Charlotte obeyed slowly, as if her limbs were stuck in pitch. But she obeyed.
“I’m not going to belt you,” I announced, grinning.Oh, but I was cruel.Retrieving my horse crop, I returned to Charlotte.
“I’m going to whip you.”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped in terror. I stroked the small, flat leather panel at the end of the crop.
“One stroke, right on your sweet, little clit. Would you like that, Charlotte? Ask me for it.”
I watched her mouth work but no words came out. Charlotte licked her lips and had to try several times before I heard her mousy whisper.
“Please… please… whip me on my clit.”