“Now give me your hands.”

I held them out to him. I felt rough rope being tied around them and then I was facing the wall. Uncle had installed pulleys into the ceiling. He kept ropes attached to these which came in useful for his woodworking hobby as well as for my bondage. With the metal chain still in my mouth and my nipples now numb from the clamps, I faced the wall and felt my arms raise. Once in position, he held me close, his now bare chest against my back and I leaned into him. His arms came around front and, simultaneously, he released my nipples. I screamed from the pain and my knees buckled. Only because of the ropes lifting me and his strong arm around me did I manage to stay upright.  He lifted my hair, kissed my neck and murmured how proud he was of me, how beautiful I was, how much he wanted me.

But not yet. No. My breasts were red from his slaps, my nipples hard as bullets from the clamps, now, he said, now it was time for my bottom. He’d been thinking of this all day, he said. Planning it. He had many implements he could use to redden my ass – wooden paddles, a cane, floggers, a hair brush, but tonight, tonight he would use only one. His belt. I moaned. I both loved and hated his belt. First, I love the scent of leather – and the feel of it. His belt is old and soft, pliable. Yet, he is a master at flicking it just right. Laying it across my bottom never in the same spot twice, but always in the right spot.

“Cry all you want. You know I love your tears,” he murmured in my ear. “But don’t turn around. I don’t want to hurt you. Stay facing the wall, keep that chain in your mouth so you don’t talk, and if you can do all this for a count of twenty, I’ll reward you.”

I nodded my understanding, thankful that the chain had served it’s purpose.

“Good girl.”