Submission in Seattle by Jack Quaiz

up slowly for over
10 minutes. He had learned the night before that a hand spanking had a very
limited effect on her, so he stepped over to a low table and selected a leather
strap from the pile of kinky toys.
     
    The strap was
eighteen inches long and almost two inches wide with a six inch wooden handle.
His first stroke went straight across both buttocks just above the lower
crease.  His aim proved to be excellent and she inhaled sharply with the shock
of this new stimulation.  A two inch wide red rectangle appeared on her
delicate skin.
     
    “Breathe, Little
One.  I’ll give you some time between strokes.  I don’t want you safewording
before I’ve had my fun,”  he said with a lecherous grin.
     
    Cole proceeded to
strap her adorably rounded bottom with gradually increasing vigor.  Both cheeks
became a bright cherry red as he carefully distributed the strokes over the
entire surface.  Monica was breathing hard and making little short moaning
sounds in a way that he found very appealing.   He stopped the strapping for a
few minutes to gently probe her smooth, nicely displayed cunt.  He was not at
all surprised to find that she was very wet.  A minute of labia pinching and
clit rubbing was all it took to drive her into a pre-orgasmic thrusting.  With
her hips held firmly down against the padded top, she could barely move and she
had to accept whatever he wanted to do.
     
    “Please Master,
can I come now?” she begged.
     
    In a calm,
comforting voice he said “I’ll bet you’d like to Little One, but not right
now.  Your Master will decide when you can come.”  He teased her clitoris just
enough to keep her on the verge of coming for another few minutes, then removed
his hand from her sensitive button and resumed the strapping. 
     
    She was panting
now and she felt as if her body below the waist was burning and pulsating in
time with her heartbeat.  She longed for her master’s touch on her clit and the
feel of his hard cock inside her.  Applied slowly and at regular intervals,
each lash of the heavy strap propelled her into a higher state of arousal.  The
timing of the strokes was perfect and she had a mental image of herself as a
girl on a swing, with the height of her travel increasing each time her helper
gave her another push.
     
    After a total of about
twenty strokes, faint purple lines began to appear where heavy strokes had
overlapped.  He decided that this was enough.  His own sexual arousal could not
be ignored much longer.
     
    “You’ve taken
twenty good strokes of the strap, Little One.  I’m very proud of you.  I have
something else in mind now.  Cole moved around in front and seized the free
ends of the black cargo straps supporting the bar.  Pulling on the two straps
carefully, he hoisted the bar toward the ceiling.  Her arms were pulled upward
and slightly backwards, lifting her torso until the waist belt allowed no
further movement.  Her upper body was now in a position somewhat akin to a swan
dive, but her lower body was still firmly pressed against the small spanking
horse.
     
    The change in position
caused a tingle of pain in her nipples, where the forgotten clothespins were
still firmly clamped.  “Oh God” she gasped.  Her nipples seemed to have a
direct connection to her clit and the burning sensation of the clothespins was
duplicated there.  This was her first experience with serious breast play and
she found it highly stimulating.  She could tell that she was no longer
thinking clearly and her vision seemed to be fogged by her desperate need for
an orgasm to relieve the burning tension in her body.
     
    The spotlights now
illuminated her torso as if it were a Greek statue made of fine marble.  Her
muscles stood out all along her shoulders and abdomen.   Best of all, thought
Cole, her breasts were thrust out in a most provocative manner.  If it weren’t
for the clothespins, she would be a fine copy of a hood ornament he had once
seen on an