Sherilyn felt the tongue lashing sting as harshly as the laid on belt. But still, the leather incessantly kissed her raw bottom with a fervency she never quite experienced before. Each smack felt as if it was striking harder than the one before, each punctuating another line in Marshall’s stern reprimand, each a painful reminder of how far she missed the mark this time. She didn’t know why she walked into that awful bar, but she knew she wouldn’t be doing anything so insane again.
“I’m sorry, please, I am!” she finally found words to reply to his startling rebuke.
“Yes, I’m sure you are, with your bottom hurting like hell.”
The belt flew fast delivering another painful smack.
“I am, Marshall, please, you have to understand.”
She felt the pain renew with another snap of the leather.
