The Wide Leather Belt

James helped me stand and took me in his arms in a warm hug - both for supports and to comfort me. I needed to sit down as I was quite exhausted, but sitting just then was not an option! I lay face down across the bed, hardly conscious of the burning marks across the front of my legs where the strap had struck me earlier. The rear end was far worse than the front! James was concerned and was asking if there was anything we had that he could apply to help the pain. My immediate reaction was that he could not touch those flaming mounds of heat and pain. He suggested an ice pack and I agreed to try that. The ice machine was in the corridor and he went out with the ice bucket to get some. I heard talking and when he came back he told me that the guards were enquiring how I was. Oh the shame!

Wrapping the ice in a face cloth James carefully applied it to my cheeks and I lay there, still sobbing internally and feeling quite sick. After a time I felt James move and he went to the fridge where he took out a miniature of something and then moved to put the kettle on for a hot drink. As the kettle boiled he encouraged me to get up and I gingerly stood and moved around a bit to try and get my limbs back working properly. I examined the front of my thighs and there was just a broad red line across both of them with a square end mark on one leg where the end of the belt had dug in. The marks were looking as though they would be bruises very soon but were not too sore for the moment. Looking in the mirror I could see that my throbbing backside was quite a different story. Red, scarlet, almost purple in some places from the top of the cheeks to about four inches down the thigh. Bruises were already beginning to form, especially where the end of the strap had wrapped around the sides of the cheeks and dug into the soft flesh there.

Time was getting on and I had to get ready to go out. I put on a robe to keep of the chill that was setting in from shock, and stood drinking the strong coffee and the whisky that James had prepared for me. I thought about the upcoming evening. How would I fare sitting through a formal dinner and, worse, how was I going to be able to face the other guests from our party who must be aware of what had happened?

James Showered and then prepared a hot bath for me - with lots of bath salts. To start with I could only crouch in the bath but finally I very carefully lay down, raising the main weight off my posterior for most of the time, as I tried to will the ache out of my body. By the time I got out of the bath even the worst of the stinging from around my bruised vagina had subsided to the extent that softly patting myself dry and then dressing was not too difficult or uncomfortable. The steam from the bath and the wonder of good makeup managed to get my previously blotched face looking reasonably OK and I finished getting ready, with James' help, in time to walk to the elevator and down to the hotel reception where the cars that were taking us to the dinner, were waiting. Apart from the guards and some of the other hotel staff, who gave us smirks or at best knowing looks, there was no acknowledgement of the fact that anyone knew what had happened in the few hours before. The ride to the reception was not comfortable but bearable. Getting in and out of the car was a little painful but I managed to avoid any too obvious grimaces, I think.

The dinner was very pleasant - or would have been, had it not been for the fact that even the beautiful soft upholstered chairs felt to me as if they were made of sold boards with nails poking up through them. Nails that surely grew longer as the night progressed! Up and down for far too many toasts, each time brushing the bruised fronts of my legs on the table. Sitting down again to those ever-growing nails in the hard seat. Trying to keep a smiling face as I moved and pleasantly chatting the people around me. Thank heavens there was no dancing that evening.

In spite of the thrill of the actual function and the experience of being able to attend, the experience lacked something and I was pleased when it was time to go. Walking, a little stiffly, to the car. Getting into the car like a really old person! Trying to take some my weight on my arms instead of sitting down hard on the soft seats for the drive that seemed to take too long. Getting, gingerly out of the car and into the hotel. And then, to really cap it off, the news that all the delegates that were staying there were getting together for a few drinks as they were all leaving the next day and many were going off in different directions so would not see each other again – or at least until next year. Oh what joy!

An escape to the ladies – gingerly sitting – walking back into the lounge to experience a discrete and friendly but unwelcome (on this occasion) pinch on the backside from a young, brash Italian delegate. No one had said anything to either James or myself about the scene in the street or later in the hotel but I overheard some of the ladies talking about some incident they had been told about. It was clear that they did not know the details except that there was some upset with a woman in the street and there were a bunch of nasty looking police or security guards or something in and around the hotel. Someone commented that it was probably nothing and another was sure that if it had been anything that concerned any of the delegates they would have heard. The conversation went on to remark on various things that they had been told about how foreign women are treated by the local law enforcement agencies and elaborated on the beatings and sexual abuse that they believed occurred.

There was comment that someone had heard a woman being beaten somewhere in the hotel that evening but that is was probably some foreigners - they are very peculiar at times, (we were all foreigners in that country, I thought), and that it could not have been any of our group. Thank goodness they did not seem to know which room that noise had come from! Fortunately we were able to escape the now dwindling crowd and return to our room before too much more time had elapsed and James and I prepared for bed.

I think, like many young couples, James and I, even though we had a full and satisfying sex life at home, seemed to look forward to being away in an hotel as a time to take advantage of not having to worry about cooking meals and other household chores and really relax in the splendour of luxurious beds and bathrooms with sex that seemed to be 'different'. The first couple of days of this trip had not been well timed for that purpose, but with a tight schedule of meetings and other functions, it had not mattered too much. With the ending of this particular conference, tonight was, unspoken but mutually recognised, one where we would be able to fully enjoy ourselves and not have to worry about getting up early in the morning as we had a flight out late in the day.

The events of the late afternoon had appeared to put a damper on that prospect and James and I walked slowly back to our room, each with their own thoughts but neither of us realistically looking forward to a night of unbridled passion.

We undressed, James helping me because I was really quite stiff in my movements, and he held me close as he whispered 'sweet nothings' in my ear. I could feel myself becoming aroused and he certainly was showing signs of interest! My bottom was still very tender and was now turning quite noticeably yellow and blue as the bruises started to come out. The fronts of my legs were also 'delicate' and James offered to gently apply some cold crème to try and sooth them a little.

As I stood and James gently rubbed the soothing crème into the tops of my legs I could gradually fell my juices beginning to flow until, as his fingers inched between my thighs I was certain the he also could see my state of arousal. He said nothing and led me to the bed where he suggested I lay face down while he soothed my bottom. He spread the crème all over the bruised skin from the top of my legs to the base of my spins and ever so gently eased the oils into the ridges and groves left by the edges of that flailing belt. As these tended to encroach between my legs and included the soft and now damp folds of skin around my vagina it was not long before my whole body was longing for him.

In spite of the soreness in my bottom and the tenderness between my legs I had to have James – immediately. I rolled onto my back, raised my arms, spread and raised my legs and invited him in. He paused, concerned that he might hurt me further, but I was past caring and, in any event, it could not possibly be worse that that I had already endured that day. Carefully he started to gently enter me but I raised myself in a wonton and lustful way to meet him and he slid in with no effort – obviously as glad to be there as I was to have him.

That bout of frenzied love making – the first of several that night – was more intense and satisfying that any in our six months of marriage. (I was a virgin when we married and we had never gone beyond what we had until then thought was quite normal and proper sex and always in the missionary position). We were both totally spent when, after deep and violent orgasms, we slipped naked under the covers and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Several hours later I woke and found 'spooned' behind me, James softy massaging my bottom as he dozed alongside me and I felt back for penis to reward him for his ministrations – only to find that it was hard and engorged beyond anything it had ever been before. Feeling me touching him, James kissed me and started to give attention to my already responding love tunnel. He was surprised, as I was, that we were on the verge of a repeat performance – once a night (and not every night) was the norm.

I whispered, "I like you taking care of my bottom but I also want you inside again". James just lay there for a moment and then pushed back the covers and turned on one of the shaded bedside lights that provided just a romantic glow to the room. He encouraged me onto my knees and spreading my legs a little moved behind me to enter my now dripping and already pulsating vagina. I thrust back at him and found that I had a degree of control that I had never experienced while on my back. As I moved with him, James rubbed my back; felt around and fondled my breasts - tweaking my nipples, that were hard and ultra sensitive - and we allowed or bodies to revel in the joys of hitherto undreamed of sexually pleasure.

James whispered that a good thrashing seemed to have done me no harm and had indeed turned me into an insatiable sexual woman. When I just said, "Yes", and thrust back at him, he suddenly released on breast and used the free hand to strike me firmly on one buttock. I gasped moved forward from the quick pain and then trust harder back. He repeated the performance with the other hand and I reacted the same way. Alternating his firm slaps we went on like that for some time until he was pushing deeper and deeper into by now soaking and aching tunnel and pounding on what I had previously thought must have been the very end of it. I was stretched wider than I had ever been, with his engorged and rock hard penis, and after one hard slap followed by James gripping my waist and lunging forward against my backward thrust, I felt him go beyond what I had imagined was the end of my vagina and past a highly sensitive lump as he pushed to new depths. I continued to stay firmly back to the extent that James was not able to withdraw without my body following him and his thrusting served only to agitate the head of his penis against this new and (then) mysterious lump that was providing me with exquisite and undreamed of pleasure until first me and then James erupted. It seemed as if this orgasm went on and on and when it finally stopped we sank down on the bed, still coupled and lay exhausted until nature finally took over and James slowly slipped out, whereupon both of us dropped into a deep sleep, still spooned together, with James firmly holding one breast as we pressed against each other.

It was clearly well after sunrise when we woke. The heavy curtains of the room were unable to hide the fact that the sun was well up and it took a moment to register that there was a knocking at the door. James stirred and quickly looked at the bedside clock. "Eight-thirty", he gasped, as he jumped, naked from the bed, flicked the blankets back over my partly exposed body and, grabbing a gown, hurried to the door to let in the waiter who had brought out ordered room service breakfast. There were clothes draped around the room, two very obviously just awake and rather bleary-eyed occupants and a noticeable aroma of sex in the room. The waiter (who had probably seen it all – and more – many times before) smiled and wished us good morning. He had a knowing grin on his face as he said, "How is madam this morning? Did you sleep well"? It was clear that they were heavily loaded questions and that he knew full well what had been going an during the night and a good deal about the events of last evening. James tipped him and locked and chained to door behind him as he went out. The staff, at least, was well aware of last night's activities – probably all of them!

We ate breakfast, naked, and I went to run a bath – wanting to soak my battered bottom more than I might have done in the shower. James shaved as I soaked in the huge twin bath and then joined me as we topped up the hot water. We cuddled and fondled in that luxurious situation and were both becoming highly aroused again. Finally we got out of the bath, roughly dried each other, and returned to the bed to again satisfy our growing lust. I was still widely stretched and as wet as could be when James started to work his fingers around and inside me. Yes, fingers. Not just one – or two, he could immediately get four inside at once without difficulty and explored around the walls of my vagina with care and softness, making me almost swoon with the exquisite feelings he was creating.

As he went higher I asked, "What do you think that lump that you went past last night was"? "I'm trying to feel it again", he replied, "but I guess it was the entrance to your uterus". I had also wondered if that was the case but, not having a great deal of knowledge of the actual layout of my internal organs, was also only guessing. His hand was almost inside of me by now as I relaxed and let him explore deeper and deeper – beyond where, even the previous day, I had ever imagined he could have possible gone – until one finger started to move around and around that lump. Both of us could feel that it was a raised circular entrance to something (my womb) and it was just possible for him to push the tip of one finger enough for the solid ring to open a minute fraction.

This sent such a wave of sensations through me that I almost erupted on the spot and James moved to withdraw his fingers from my gaping tunnel. I needed him inside again and I could see that his penis was so engorged that the circumcised head and a good deal of the thick, hard shaft was purple. He went in quickly – I needed him NOW – and, even though I was stretched and sopping wet, I could feel every movement against my ultra sensitive vagina wall as he plunged deeper and harder into me. He may have hard and eager, but the sapping experiences of having come twice already in the last ten hours meant that took James some time to be able to come again. He lunged and lunged – repeatedly changing the angle from which he entered. Hardly withdrawing this time; only coming out half way the next. I had several strong orgasms during this time and he apologised for not having finished. Although becoming quiet tired myself, I had no reason to want him to stop and he plunged on until he finally lifted my legs high in the air, panted, "take me right in to you please", and with a final gasp almost split me in two as he trust right up inside until even the very end of my Vagina was pressed up into my stomach. He did not take long to finish pumping the small amount of his remaining fluid in to me and then collapsed, exhausted, on my chest where we lay holding each other tight until we both summoned up enough strength to move.

Looking in the mirror, my backside was not a pretty sight and with the added attention it had received from and during out lovemaking, it was still very tender and prone to sudden jabs of pain when I leaned against or sat on anything without extra care. Following that last bout of sex we both looked as if we had been out on the town all night and together we took a long hot shower – gently soaping and washing each other in a way that we had never done before. We dressed with care and I made an extra special effort to do my make up to understated perfection in attempt to cover our haggard appearance and to avoid drawing any special attention to ourselves when we went through the hotel and around the streets in the immediate vicinity in the few hours that we had before leaving to catch out plane. We had arranged a late checkout from the hotel but in an effort to avoid unnecessary contact with the hotel staff we decided to have a light lunch at a café along the road. When we actually checked out of the hotel the reception staff, while hoping that we had had an enjoyable stay (as is usual) added rather pointedly 'and entertaining'. I walked away blushing – conscious of the muffled giggles behind me.

The ride to the airport, waiting for the boarding call and the actual flight proved more than a little painful but that nagging pain served to keep me thinking about the great sex that we had had afterwards. By the time we arrived at our hotel in Hong Kong late in the evening I was noticeably ready and poor James had to immediately call on all his reserves to again satisfy my burning lust.

Painfully for me perhaps, but we had discovered a new dimension to our life that was to lead to many, many more wild times. But more on that at another time!!

The end – for now