A continuation to Nightcap written by my friend, PMUS

Tammy paused, “You might be too cozy over my lap. I should try turning it up a bit.” She looked around, and saw a short stool in the kitchen. She brought it over, and directed me to step on top of it. Its top was size of a chair top with barely half foot of room to wiggle around before I would fall off of it. I cautiously stood atop it.

“ Now give me your belt from your pants,” she commanded

I complied, with a racing heart, anticipating what she was going to do with that belt. I had lashed many a naughty girl’s bottom with it and seen the jumpy response it produced and the welts it left. Now I will get a taste of it myself. But why on top of a stool?

Soon the reason was clear. “Grab your ankles with your hands, you can bend at your knees if need to but keep your feet half foot apart,” Tammy ordered. I would never think of her being so smart, or maybe, experienced to torture a man. In this position my ass is sticking up in the air with my manhood fully visible to her. What a humiliation, particularly due to my hastening erection! I blushed and felt a warm yet overwhelming feeling that she was fully in charge at this moment and I could not resist but had to submit to her authority, and my humiliation, vulnerability and suffering were all at her mercy.

It wasn’t too long before she started smacking that belt of mine on my own bottom. It hurt intensely, my body responding to the pain and at the same time excitement. Tammy did a few quick strokes at a fairly fast tempo making the tension surrounding my private parts really intense. I knew I would find a release if she kept it up. Apparently Tammy noticed the response and decided to slow down and lighten up her strokes. Then as my arousal ebbed, she would give a fierce stroke again, spacing out the strokes with a some fast intervals added sporadically. I had to really be careful not to fall off. Not knowing the cadence of the assault and how hard, it was nerve racking the whole time. Time slowed and I was close to not being able to take any more, when she sped up her tempo and intensity again. As tension and intensity grew, again pain and arousal became tightly entangled. I almost wanted the next stroke to be stronger and was offering my butt against the anticipated impact of the belt. All of a sudden, however, it all stopped.

“You can get down now,” she instructed. Tammy dropped my belt and put on her coat, picking up her brush on her way out. “I hope you learned a good lesson and do not slack again, anticipating you can get away with things. Reflect on your thought pattern before you fall asleep,” she scolded. She walked out, closing door behind her, leaving me still trying to catch my breath and compose myself. The pain and pent-up tension made it nearly impossible to relax and to fall asleep.