Chapter 8
Patsy turned over, causing Mr. Swanson to break his rhythm. He seemed to be in a hypnotic trance. It took him a few moments to pull himself back to the world.
He stared down at her body, quivering with pain.
"What's the matter," he asked, a demonic look in his eyes.
"I want you to do something else," she told him. "Please ... I promise you, you'll like it even more than paddling me on my bottom."
"What is it."
She smiled slowly, and then, rubbing her bottom a little (for it was genuinely sore she said to him, "Take off your belt."
He smiled, and seemed only too glad to comply. Patsy couldn't help noticing the enormous bulge his cock was making inside his jeans. She had a particular plan for that, later on, but first, she was getting hotter and hotter to have him complete the job he'd started so admirably.
She was on her back now, facing him. He could look straight down and see her entire pussy, exposed and hot and waiting for his attention.
"Whip me. Beat me with your belt," she murmured, spreading her legs as far as she could. There was no doubt as to what she had in mind for a target. There was only one possibility. But in case he didn't get the message, she once more placed her fingers on either side of her pussy lips and pulled them wide apart, stretching them as far as they would go.
She pulled upwards at the same time, causing her clitoris to pop to attention.
"There. Right on it. Whip it. Whip, my pussy. Whip my clit. Hard. Be hard. Be rough.
Be brutal."
She turned away, overcome by her own arousal. She'd never expected to get into it this strongly.
Mr. Swanson appeared to be somewhat taken aback by her request, but nonetheless he dove into it with pleasure.
He slowly wrapped his belt around the palm of his hand, and left perhaps four inches of the strap hanging free.
Then, he dangled the tip of it right in the open slit of her cunt.
"Can you see my panties inside me?" she asked. "Yes. They look like they're getting very wet," he commented.
"For you. Because of you. You're making them wet. You're making me wet. Make me wetter. Make me come with your belt. Whip it. Please. Whip it good."
He swung. It was a short sharp stroke, but it brought the tip of his belt right across her clitoris.
She gasped, loudly, but tried not to cry out loud. She would prefer that he didn't stuff her blouse back into her mouth.
He swung again, this time harder than before, and letting more of the area of his belt strike her body.
She felt a hot burst of pain shoot through het groin, sending ripples and shock waves flowing all through her body.
It was driving her crazy, and he hadn't even gotten underway yet.
He swung again.
And again.
His eyes were riveted on the pink mass of pussy flesh opened before him.
It was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.
A pussy, opened for him, waiting only to be whipped to a frenzy. It was the fulfillment of a fantasy that he'd spent his entire life trying to recreate. But he'd always lacked the one essential ingredient.
Authenticity.
Now, he had it.
He had a pussy that he could whip to his heart's content. He had a tair of ass cheeks that he could beat till they were rosy red from the pain. He could beat her breasts, he could beat her legs, he could whip her just about any place that he wanted to whip her.
He swung until his arm started to get tired.
The slapping sounds were music to his ears, and he couldn't stop, even though he was becoming exhausted. The momentum of his motions became almost a self-sustaining force, one that supported him like a metal frame, driving him onward through the sheer intensity of his momentum.
He saw that hard, ruby-tipped bud of quivering nerve endings, and took careful aim.
He watched, almost as if the scene was unfolding in slow motion, as the tip of his belt fell through the air, and raked across her clit.
He savored every quiver of pain that shook her body.
Her hips arched up in the air.
Her breasts shook madly.
The hole to her pussy, and her puckered ass-hole both opened and closed involuntarily with every stroke.
Her eyes were closed, her head was turned to one side. She couldn't see the look of pleasure and triumph in his face.
Such an unexpected gift.
He was still in a state of shock over it.
Again he swung, and again and again.
The soft pink meat made a sloshing noise every time the leather strap ripped through it.
He suddenly knew that if he didn't contain himself, he'd easily draw blood.
It was something that frightened him, because down deep within the depths of his soul, he wanted to exactly that.
He wanted to draw blood, wanted to make her scream and writhe in uncontrolled agony.
But he kept himself in check.
He was content to merely whip her clitoris, striking it again and again until the rhythm of his strokes and the rhythm of her body was one.
She was moaning constantly now, rolling her hips crazily to the motion of his belt, shaking her body, crying out ... she was coming. Lord God, he was whipping her to an orgasm.
It built steadily, inexorably, until he saw her spill over.
Her hands fell away from her pussy, but even though her lips closed up somewhat, she still had her thighs spread enough to keep the inner pink flesh visible to his searching gaze, and keep her clitoris within reach of his wild, untamed strap.
She started to scream, but then, as the full force of her orgasm struck, she stopped, and simply went into a spastic dance of muscle contractions.
Her head rolled from side to side, her mouth worked furiously but no sounds other than incoherent moans came out.
Her hips ... that's what amazed him the most, for her hips were actually rising higher and higher into the air, literally seeking out his whip, trying to get closer to the source, to make the pain as strong as possible....
He stepped back, uncoiled his belt all the way, and began to flail away without consideration to where he was hitting her.
Some of his strokes struck her pussy, some of them struck her thighs, and some of them hit her breasts.
That produced an amazing reaction.
The first stroke that crossed her nipple caused her to let her arms fall to the side, and then she actually brought her hands up to the side of each mound of flesh, pushing them together and forcing them to jut outward, making them easy, inviting targets.
He hit her full on the nipple of her right breast, and then he hit her on her left breast.
Her body shook like bombs were going off inside.
Each stroke of his leather strap produced a sharp c-crack!! ! that echoed through the room.
He didn't even pause to wonder if anyone could hear, nor did he care.
He simply swung, and swung, and swung as hard as he could.
Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, he was forced to stop. He could go no further.
He listened to the sounds that she was making, and at first thought that they sounded like deep heaving sobs.
But they weren't.
It was the sound of her body racing through wave after wave of orgasm, taking off now on its own, no longer needing any outside stimulation.
He watched while she fingered her clitoris harshly, bringing herself to come after come after come.
Her hips were rolling spastically around on his desk.
The stack of papers had long since been scattered everywhere.
Still she came, seemingly unable to stop.
There was only one thing left for him to do.
He dropped his belt and unzipped his pants. His cock, already solid and aching, shone at the tip from the drops of jism that had already oozed out of it.
He was hot and horny and knew that there was only one place to put it.
He reached down to her pussy lips and slipped his fingers inside to remove her panties.
But she said "No, no, fuck me with them inside. Please. Stick it as far inside me as you can."
Who was he to argue with a request like that?
He brought the head down to her hole, and watched as it slowly disappeared inside her body. He felt it make contact with her panties, and then felt them being pushed to the very back of her pussy chamber as more and more of his cock was swallowed by her insatiable body.
He would never have believed it possible, but she took his entire cock.
All of it was buried up to the hilt!
"Now, fuck me, fuck me, fast and hard. Come in me. Come all over my panties!"
The idea was so intriguing, and it was all the more so coming from someone so young, that he almost had no choice in the matter.
His balls were already filled to overflowing.
It took only a few strokes before he felt them shooting a hot gusher of cum up through his shaft and out the head, all through her cunt.
She felt it too.
"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes," she murmured.
He plowed as fast and as hard as he could, and then, when he'd fully spent himself, he withdrew.
She looked up at him.
Holding his gaze with her eyes, she inserted two fingers inside her cunt.
"It's full. You've filled me up."
She looked like she was trying to find her panties, as if he'd pushed them so far up her that they'd gotten lost.
Then he realized that she was moving them around, turning them over and over as if they were in a washing machine, being agitated by her cunt.
When she finally pulled them out of her pussy, they were drenched. She held them up.
"Aren't they a mess?" she asked, grinning at him. "Now, get your paddle ready."
She slipped them on, to his amazement, and rolled over again, sticking her ass as far up into the air as she could.
"I'm ready, Mr. Swanson."
The oily sheen on the silky material reflected the florescent lights overhead. He could almost see himself standing before her.
She was enjoying this. That was the most incredible thing. That was what was still impossible for his brain to comprehend.
She was enjoying it. She wanted it.
She craved it!
So ... he'd give it to her.
He brought the paddle down on her tight firm ass, and the sharp, wet crack that sounded through the room made even Mr. Swanson flinch.
But Patsy, while emitting an agonizing groan, kept her ass high in the air.
He had to admit, the girl kept her part of the bargain.
But then, she was a slut. What else would you expect from a slut?
He swung again.
Once more the sharp crack echoed through the room.
She began to moan.
She was moving her hips now, pressing them down harder and harder into the desk.
She saw her arms, both of them, disappearing beneath her body, and knew that she had her fingers up her slit, was even now rubbing that wet mushy pink mass of quivering meat that he had so recently whipped to a frenzy, a tortured frenzy.
It made his cock hard again. Just thinking about that pussy of hers, spread and opened before him, waiting to be whipped, made him hard, as if he hadn't just come at all.
He felt his balls filling again, felt the tingling sensations rising, felt a quivering of the muscle at the base of his cock, as if he was once again getting ready to come.
But that couldn't be, could it? He didn't see how. He swung his paddle again and this time, the sting produced a painful reaction in her.
She started to gasp and moan, and for a moment he was afraid that he'd at last hurt her.
But once again, she surprised him.
She seemed to be a bottomless pit, a black hole of passion.
Nothing seemed to push her too far.
"Oh, yes," he heard her whisper, almost to herself.
"You want more?" he asked, knowing that he'd give her more, whether she wanted it or not.
"Yes ... yes ... YES!! "
She was sticking her ass higher and higher in the air, literally begging him to work it over. What could he do? She was, after all, a very persuasive young lady.
Later, she sat in the front seat of Johnny's jalopy.
"You aren't serious!"
"Urn hmmm," she said idly. She'd just told him the whole story about the session with Johnny's father.
It had really shocked him.
"I can't believe it. I thought he'd let you off with a cheap feel or something, maybe getting you to suck his cock ... but my God...."
She wrapped her arms around him. "Does it make you mad at me?"
"Well, no ... why should it?"
"Does it make you want to do it?"
"What! Spank you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, no. I don't think so. Why? Do you want to?"
"I might want you to."
"You're kidding?"
"You still don't trust me, do you?"
"Yeah, sure I trust you. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, it just sounds like you don't trust me."
"Well, I do. I really do. You confuse me though. I'll admit that."
"Good. What do you say we go back to my place."
"Why?"
"Oh, I think my mother might have a treat waiting for you there."
"Really? What's that?"
"Her."