#192) The Belt From Her Perspective, Part II – GRAPHIC CONTENT

So by this time in our relationship, Joseph and I were exclusive. As he stated when we were discussing taking this seminal step (just after filling all my orifices with his semen), “Where am I gonna find another cute girl with such a gorgeous ass who likes it spanked?” I could have quibbled that I was a gorgeous woman with a cute ass that I loved to have spanked, but let it go.
One Saturday afternoon we went to the mall. We weren’t in need of anything, but Joe knows that I love to shop, love to try on clothes, love to spend time with him. I thought that I’d try on some sexy outfits, try to sneak him back into the fitting rooms, and get frisky. We were strolling hand-in-hand down the mall approaching Macy’s and I was about to whisper my plans in his ear, when Joe spotted a CVS pharmacy and steered me into it. He escorted me to the display of hairbrushes.
“I was thinking about buying you a new hairbrush,” he said.
“I already have a nice one with boar bristles,” I replied, “none of these are of that good a quality.”
Joe picked up a big Conair brush with plastic bristles. It’s selling point was that it had a big, flat, wooden back, the kind that would hurt like the dickens against my tender bottom. He smacked it against the palm of his left hand. Just the loud “Whomp!” sound made the little hairs on my body stand on end. Joe knew that I hated wooden implements used on my backside.
I adopted the little girl voice that guys find sexy to reply. “You can buy that wicked hairbrush and paddle my poor innocent bottom with it if you wish, sir. And I’ll hate every minute of it, and hold a grudge against you for punishing me like a big meanie… Or we can comparison shop, shop for a thin, wicked leather belt. A belt that will get me aroused thinking about how sexy even a hard whipping with it will make me feel… Do you want to buy that brush now, or do some comparison shopping?”
“Let’s shop,” he smiled.
“First, we need some data…” Now I switched to whispering in his ear. “Just one swat with that thing. Make it count…” and I turned around, bent over, flipped up my sundress to show my thong-clad butt.
Joe gave my right cheek a really hard swat. I let it propel me upright with my dress smoothed down, as I blinked back a tear and walked briskly toward the store exit. Joe put the brush back on its display hook and caught up with me. I re-clasped his hand in mine.
“That swat really stung!” I mock-pouted, then brightened to say, “Thank you, Sir!” I knew that Joe was loving this.
I steered him into Macy’s and back toward the men’s department. Almost immediately I saw a 32 inch waist thin leather black belt that was exactly what Joe’s wardrobe and our sex life lacked. I took it off the display rack to find the opposite side was cordovan brown and its buckle reversible.
“This looks like a nice one. What do you think? Like it?”
“Let’s see…”and he doubled its length in his right hand.
I whispered again, “Make it quick! We don’t want to get arrested for indecent exposure or anything else…” Again I spun around, hiked my dress up, and displayed my butt cheeks, now blemished with a big red splotch on the right one from the brush.
Joe gave me two hard, fast licks. But instead of abandoning him, this time I rubbed up against him, whispering, “Put your hand down the front of my panties, Sir.” Joe readily complied. “See…?” I whispered, “now I’m wet… This is the difficult part of shopping… do you want to buy that hairbrush that will make me resent you, or buy this belt that makes me cream…?”
We got in line in front of the cashier. Inspiration took ahold of me. I started speaking loudly enough for the entire vicinity to hear me.
“Two haikus on discipline, by Jean Marie. The first… Hairbrush spankings hurt, They yell that I’m a bad girl, needing punishment. The second one… Belt spankings arouse, They promise titillation, along with the sting.” I bowed at the waist like in a first grade talent show. No one, including Joe, applauded. I was hurt, but hid it. I was proud of my extemporaneous artistry, saddened that it was received in silence.
Shifting gears, I wanted to see if Joe could role play and improvise. I adopted a bratty whine.
“But why do you have to buy that belt to whip me with right now?” I said loud enough for all to hear. Both the male customer ahead of us in line and the male cashier looked at us with wide eyes.
“Because you’ve been a naughty girl… again… and you need to learn a lesson! Now, are you going to be better behaved, so we can wait until I get you back to the car to start your punishment, or should we start here over the store counter?”
Trying to suppress the proud smile that wanted to burst across my face, I just looked lovingly into my Top’s eyes. “I’ll be good, so we can do it privately in the car… Thank you, Sir.”
Joe paid cash. In response to the question of whether he wanted the purchase put in a Macy’s bag, he replied, “No, I’ll be using it soon.”
As we walked back down the mall hallway, part of me wanted to mount him, that was my sexuality dictating my desires. Another part of me, my intellect, wanted to ask why he didn’t appreciate my spontaneous poetry. Instead I whispered, “Give me another panty-check…” He found the gusset of my cotton thong drenched with my jism.
“You’re such a naughty girl!” he smiled. He kept his hand down the front of my underwear. If I’d been wearing jeans, he might have been able to circumspectly finger me, but he was raising the hem of my sundress provocatively for access to my knickers, and we were garnering side-long glances.
“I know,” I replied with a huge smile, enjoying how aroused I felt, how much my bum glowed. I pulled his hand out and licked his sticky fingers clean. “I think I need a belt whipping for being such an incorrigible slut… The question is whether you can wait to give it to me until we get back to campus…? I don’t think you can take a full swing with the belt in the cramped confines of your car. And it’s obvious that I need a good, hard belt whipping…”
We walked to the parking lot kissing and fondling one another. If I had been wearing jeans, my overflowing panties would’ve stained the gusset of the denim. As it was, I just felt the warm, end-of-summer breeze cool my body fluids, causing goose bumps to take flight across all of my skin. I was as horny as could be.
“I don’t know,” Joe toyed with me, “maybe I should give you a belt whipping with your bared butt turned over the hood of my car now, and continue your punishment back in the dorm…”
“As you wish, Sir,” and I started to lay over the car as seductively as I could and hoist my dress up teasingly, and in my most coquettish voice continued, “but if you’re arrested by the mall cops, I’ll plead that you’re a hot-headed brute, that you whip me every day, mercilessly, without the least provocation. Let me remind you that my backside is already marked from earlier…” By now those remnants of our comparison shopping were clearly visible. I hooked my thumb in the waistband of my thong. “Do you want my panties lowered for this whipping, Sir?”
“Get in the car, you randy bitch,” he chided with a smile, “we’ll wait until we get home to give you your just desserts.”
As I obeyed, I kept my dress up around my waist. When both car doors were closed I took Joe’s right hand, kissed it, and placed it back on my moist crotch.
“I know you have some issues about Topping sometimes. You are not a brute, what you referred to as an ‘ogre’ in the past. You have my permission to punish me as often as you like, even multiple times daily, as hard as you like, with whatever implement you choose. I’m yours to do with as you see fit, Joseph.” I helped him work the fingers of his hand under my panties, his middle finger penetrated me as I continued. “I need good-girl, light hand-spankings… I need hard paddlings with wooden implements… I need leatherings with your belts… You decide if I ever need the cane…” Joe could feel that I grew progressively wetter as I enumerated my needs. I wanted him to know that it was a symbiotic relationship, that I needed what he gave me just as desperately as what he desired to give me.
When he got inside my dorm room, I drew the drapes wide open and raised the blinds, so sunlight streamed into the room. I lived on the fourth floor, so didn’t need to worry about anybody looking in.
“I want to pretend that we’re back outside in the mall parking lot. I want you to belt-whip me as if we were in public, drawing a crowd of on-lookers, but without fear of arrest or hassles…”
I stepped out of the sundress and my panties fell on top of it. I handed Joe his new belt, but held on to it, so that we could maintain eye contact.
“Even though this beauty is leather, it stings like a motherfucker! It’s probably the most lethal of all the implements and pervertibles we own. So really read my signals closely, lover, okay?”
He nodded, I let go of the belt and bent over the bed and started to role play.
“You intend to punish me over the hood of your car? Right here out in the open? What if people see?”
Joe fell into it as easily as my wet pussy after being separated for a couple days, “They will. They’ll assume, correctly, that you were a bad little girl and need your butt strapped. So take your punishment obediently, or I’ll give it to you twice as hard and three times as long. Get your butt in the air!”
I obeyed, loving how good Joe was getting at this. I felt the sunlight that was streaming in through the window on my exposed anus, giving the lie to that idiom. Joe took an extra minute to unbutton his long-sleeved shirt cuff and roll it up his arm. I remembered that I’d off-handedly mentioned days ago that this gesture turned me on tremendously. I heard the thin belt whistle through the air a split second before it cut into my butt flesh, making me yelp, making my legs involuntarily wriggle as I tried to absorb the pain.
In a soft voice, I asked, “Is the spot where you hit me with the hairbrush still visible on my ass?”
“Before we’re through, make sure it isn’t. Make sure my butt is nothing but belt welts, okay?”
“Plus some extras across the backs of your thighs for topping from the bottom,” Joe answered and gave me another stripe across the summit of my bum. I knew I was in good, dominant hands.
I stuck my ass out for my medicine. Joe administered a very healthy dose. I started fantasizing about being naked across the hood of his car getting it, seeing men gawk and women raise their hands to their mouths or throats in alarm. A make-believe child spoke up, “Mommy, why is that girl getting spanked?” I dreamed about the quality of the mother’s voice, trepidation mixed with admiration and arousal, “She’s not being spanked, honey, she’s being punished! Her boyfriend must be very disappointed in his girl’s behavior…” I bathed in the humiliation that a public thrashing would bring, the pain of the belt being applied to my legs brought me back to reality. I’d been weeping; these vicious stripes made me ball. Joe tossed the belt onto the bed. The whipping had taken the starch out of me; I no longer had my ass high in the air. My hips were still elevated somewhat, and I slid down to lay prone on the mattress, my fingers underneath my pussy and tits to reconnect with my arousal. Even though my backside was worn-out, my nipples were hard and my vag overflowing. It was mind-blowing to simultaneously feel my ass on-fire and incinerated while my sexuality was smoldering and ready to ignite. Joseph had disrobed and now laid on top of me, his erection aligned up my crack, his hands covered my left hand and both tits, his mouth right by my ear.
“I think that’ll be enough for now,” he whispered.
“Thank you, that was wonderful, Sir!”
“You took it very well. Do you still love the new belt in my wardrobe?”
“Feel my pussy.” He did. I moaned at the intrusion. “I detest it, I fear it, and I love it! Wanna fuck?” He nodded enthusiastically. “Where you’re at, not in my butt right now. I’m worn-out there for a bit while I absorb it all…” Joe lifted his hips and slid his length into my sex right to the hilt. His hairy belly grinding into my flaming fanny was ecstatic agony. He pistoned me as hard as he’d belted me. I couldn’t help but cum. He sat up astride my thighs, just below where he’d lashed me. With my legs held tightly together and his cock deep inside my vag, I felt possessed in a way I never had before. Maybe it was because my pussy felt so tight in this position. Joe’s cock felt so omnipresent this way. I put both arms behind me, and Joe took the hint and held them there by my wrists. I tried to struggle against being held down while he fucked me with harsh, rapid thrusts. And with his free hand, Joe played with my butt, of course. He spanked my tender cheeks, massaged me roughly, caressed me lovingly, fingered my opening wantonly, casually. It brought my worn-out backside back to vibrant life. I came all the harder with a series of climaxes.
I normally don’t sleep real well. But after I’ve been punished and my backside is glowing radiantly, and it’s inspired sex and that orifice is glowing radiantly, I feel like all is right with the world. I fell asleep in my lover’s arms and snoozed deeply and contentedly.
I awoke about five P.M., sun streaming into my dorm window, and it felt so disorienting, it took me a full minute to remember what had just transpired. My bottom was stiff; I got up to look at the marks in the full length mirror behind the door. The skin was abraded and my muscles were sore. It turned me on. Joe woke up and rolled over. I parted my cheeks with both hands, knowing that, for whatever reason, Joe loved the sight of my tight little butthole.
“Now my ass can handle a fucking. Interested?”
Joe swiped up the bottle of Astroglide and pressed me against the door jam as he applied it to my sweet spot. Just his fingers brought me close to orgasm.
“Go put a pair of heels on to deal with our height difference,” he said.
I did and came back, feeling sexy as hell. He applied more lube up my butt, then entered me while standing and leaning on the door. He pressed me hard against the door, withdrew until his cock-head breached my butthole, then slammed back into me all the way so that his pubic bone slapped my still-reddened buttocks, over and over. It was violent, it was primal, it was just what I needed, to be fucked to incoherence. I tried to keep my eyes from rolling back into my head and focus. If Joe hadn’t been holding me up by my armpits and impaling me deep up the ass, I would’ve collapsed on the floor. Boning my bum-hole so energetically forced a lot of air up there, and much to the surprise of both of us, I suddenly and vociferously farted. He looked at me quizzically. We both didn’t think this possible with his thick cock corking my hole so fully.
“Don’t worry,” I managed to mumble. “That wasn’t a fart, like I’d just been eating broccoli or something. I mean, it wasn’t gas. My gas. It was air. It’s like I’m your bicycle tire and…”
Another one rent the air. It tickled my nearly-numb butthole so that I giggled.
“You see? That right there! If I’d done that with any other man in my past, I’d have been mortified. But I just passed it off and we’re still boning, which says to me that we have something special. What I’m trying to say is that I really like what we have…”
Joe pulled out and spun me around so that he could kiss my mouth. He kissed me real hard and long. I didn’t want to spoil the passionate moment, so I clasped my right hand tightly across the crack of my ass to keep from farting any more. And his big, slick erection was just throbbing there, between us, so I took it in my left hand and stroked it.
“I love you,” I whispered softly while looking soulfully into his eyes.
He mouthed the words, I love you, back because his voice didn’t work. It would’ve been a romantic gesture if I’d taken his cock into my mouth and deep-throated him and sucked him off, but I’d told him repeatedly that I had a hard limit about taking a cock straight from my ass into my mouth. Instead, I turned back around and placed his cock into my butt crack and pressed both cheeks against it.
“Hot-dog me… Do you think you can spurt all the way into my hair?”
I’d piled my hair on top of my head that morning; it’d be a strong ejaculation to do so. He began thrusting hard, pinching my nipples and diddling my clit as he did so.
“I love that you’re the kind of girl who can substantiate her affections through farts, who can make up poems about getting her butt whipped on the spur of the moment…” For a nonverbal guy, this protestation meant a lot to me, meant that I meant a lot to him.
“I think I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…!” I stammered mere seconds before a volley of squirt blasts erupted out of me, drenching my best high heels in clear liquid. Simultaneously jets of cum shot up my spine, onto the nape of my neck, into my coiffure. We were a hot, sticky mess literally from head to toe.
“Come on, let’s grab a shower before the last dinner-service in the cafeteria,” I said and grabbed my boyfriend by the hand.

8 responses to “#192) The Belt From Her Perspective, Part II – GRAPHIC CONTENT”

  1. I am waiting (somewhat impatiently) for parts 3-10! This was a hot story so far and you just don’t know how much I thank you for it. Thanx again!!
    I know your may not have more parts to write for this story but I can use my imagination can’t I?

    Liked by 3 people

  2. It must have been intoxicating to have a girlfriend like the one depicted in this story. Was she really topping from the bottom, or was she just sharing her needs and feelings? If there’s more to the story, I’d love to hear it. I wonder how could such a fairytale relationship ever have ended. Surely they lived happily ever after!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Dear Karl,
      I see it as sharing ones’ needs, but a Dom might see it as Topping from the bottom; it’s all in that point of view… When you’re in college, you think you have a lifetime of wonderful adventures ahead, so if little speed-bumps come up, a college kid will just move on to a relationship with someone new. That’s what I did all too often back then.


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