Raylene waited, feet well apart on the step above me, her body in lunge position, her forehead taking most of her weight on the fifth step above me. She had her hands behind her neck, fingers interlaced, and three stripes from the razor strop in my hand glowed stop-sign red across her bottom. Her face was almost as red, it seemed to me.
She was trembling slightly, not, I guessed, because of the pain but because of her fear that she wouldn’t make it through this. Thirty strokes were a lot. She’d only had one that counted towards that total. I watched her, enjoying the tremors in her breasts and the backs of her thighs. But I couldn’t just be a spectator for long, beautiful as the sight of her pain was. She needed some help.
I put my hand on her right hip, and held her till she was still. Leaning down so she could see my face, I said, “You’re doing well, Raylene. You’re going to get through this. You want to, don’t you?”
Our faces were upside down, to each other. But Raylene smiled up at me. She liked being asked, so she could show me she was good. “Oh, yes. Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” I rubbed her bottom, then squeezed, and she groaned and then sighed when she realised it felt better than she expected. “You will get through it. I’m on your side, and I’ll help. It’ll hurt you, but you’ll find that it hurts less when you know I want you to make it. And you want to make me proud.”
“Yes. Yeah, I do know that. Sir.”
If she’d been a little more experienced she’d have known I was talking nonsense, at least about it hurting less if I said nice things to her. There was a different reason why it would hurt less for a while, but I didn’t want her to suspect that I’d be going easy on her. Well, after the first six strokes.
“Good. This one will hurt. Get ready.”
The impact, loud and solid, echoed in that stairwell, that sweet intersection of hard leather and soft girl skin.
Raylene’s hips danced for me, and again I watched her, penis hard and constricted by my clothes. I wanted to be in her.
Eventually Raylene was still again, with her ass arched obediently up and her breath back under control. “Two, thank you, sir.”
I put my hand on her new stripe, to savour the heat while it still blazed at its fiercest. Raylene sighed again, and I patted her lightly and took my hand away. I didn’t need to speak. I raised the strop.