He suddenly stood. In nearly the same moment, the belt came down. She heard the sharp whistle of it chopping through the air just before pain exploded across her backside. It pains significantly more than any strike delivered by his hand.
She cried out, more from shock than actual pain. And the shock came not because he had struck her, but because it only made the flame of pleasure inside her burn brighter. Her belly gripped with each strike and she could feel the growing pool of moisture that lined her thighs.
Strikes rained down with the steady rhythm of a metronome. His aim was unerring, never hitting the same spot twice, until her entire body felt like it was consumed in fire.
Tears turned to sobs as the hardwood of the table shoved against her cheek with each measured blow. He used
