The Bottom Line by Emma Savage Page A

serious, but I began by striking her fairly gently and experimentally, seeing what patterns the sole made on her skin and judging how hard to strike to increase the reddening effect without doing any real damage. Several times in the next few minutes I thought to stop, but she wouldn’t let me. By now I was hitting her in groups of nine strokes, three on each cheek in turn and then three right across the middle.
    â€˜Okay,’ I warned her, ‘that’s nearly enough. Another nine and I’m stopping.’
    After another nine there were definite signs of bruising as opposed to simple reddening, and I told her to get up, but she wasn’t disposed to listen and I realised she was desperate to find out about herself something she’d spent so many years not knowing. Finally she offered a compromise.
    â€˜Take the belt of your trousers and give me six really good ones with it, and then I’ll let you stop.’ I faltered, thinking this sounded a bit too heavy for me, but then she added, ‘Come on, make them really sting and I’ll give you a bonus you won’t forget in a hurry.’
    So I slipped the leather belt from my slacks and told her to kneel, my erection so stiff I decided to take off my clothes and underwear before administering the final six of the best.
    She didn’t answer in words, but obediently knelt on the bed, her forehead resting on her hands and her bottom stretched tight and high. I stood back, took careful aim and let fly with the belt, noting how it sang through the air and landed with a satisfying crack across her cheeks, bringing from her an involuntary gasp. I gave her two more quick strokes, each one producing the same reaction, and watched as the edge of the belt began to raise slight weals across the punished flesh.
    â€˜You’ll feel this next one all right,’ I promised her, striking as I spoke so that she had no time to compose herself, and watching with satisfaction as she instinctively straightened up and clutched her martyred flesh. But she was quick to bend forward again and took the fifth stroke with apparent calm. I promised her a last stroke she’d never forget, and lay the belt lovingly across her bottom. Then I drew back my arm, waited for a long moment so she could fully anticipate what was about to happen to her, and finally brought the belt whistling down across her bottom at an angle, ensuring it crisscrossed some of the previous tramlines.
    The blow forced her to exhale suddenly, the breath driven out of her. Again she straightened up and clutched her injuries, squeezing slightly and then relaxing again. After what seemed an age she looked round at me, smiled that entrancing smile and resumed her submissive position. I thought at first that she was going to demand more, but her words were even more surprising.
    â€˜Come on then,’ she said. ‘You want to fuck me like this, so now’s your chance. You’d better make the most of it though, as it may be the only chance you get.’
    I asked her where the cream was, but she assured me she wouldn’t need any lubrication this time. Slowly I guided my throbbing prick between her legs and rubbed it against her sex lips, conscious of how wet she was, and as her lips parted I pushed my rigid cock as deep inside her as I could. But as I reached forward, my hands encircling her and cupping her breasts, she suddenly straightened up.
    â€˜Graham,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. I’m so desperately sorry.’ She burst into tears and I eased myself carefully out of her and knelt for the time it took her to turn over, look at me through eyes misty with tears and then cling to me. ‘I don’t know what it is,’ she sobbed, ‘I just can’t bear having you in me like that.’
    I tried to comfort her, stroking her hair as I murmured that it didn’t matter, but she continued to cry. I stroked her hair for a few