She did her best, as the belt continued to lash her. By this time her bottom felt on fire. Surely it must be bright red; I hope he likes to see it that way, she thought. I hope it gives him pleasure. All she felt was pain, a stinging, biting pain, and she could not forebear from grunting and groaning a little. It was not ladylike, she knew, but nor was kneeling on a bed with her bare bottom in the air being lashed by a gentleman just for his amusement.
He paused, and put his hand to her behind. She felt it stroke her, cool and soothing. But she sensed this was not the end. If it was a client, she would now be indicating that the conclusion to the entertainment was approaching. But this time it was out of her hands. It would end when he wanted it to end. Perhaps, if she groaned more, or wr
