Feelings of guilt…

My hands locked into each other as she spoke. Her voice soft.

My new girlfried.

I say new, we are 24 months in. She is sat telling me about this holiday that she thinks we should both go on.

We have lived together for 6 months and things are great. But I feel guilt. It eats me as I watch her mouth move, her soft spoken words exit her mouth as she plays with her hair.

I have always had a bad masturbation habit. But since she has moved in it has gotten worse. Every day I find myself hidden away rubbing away to orgasm.

This effects my drive with her though. Sometimes I am simply not in the mood. But that is because I masturbate way too much.

And we did discuss masturbation. We also agreed that it is something that we both would not do.

“I need to tell you something” she stopped talking and glowered at me.

“Rude, interrupting like that, it better be important” she sat back and folded her arms.

An iron taste forming in my mouth, my heart beating fast, I could not speak.

Standing up I pulled my thick leather belt through it a loops. Removing it from its current job around my waist. Creating a new purpose for it I folded it in half and handed it to my lady.

I slid my hair out of my face and allowed a tear to drop down my cheek. My girlfriend looked confused but also concerned for me.

Without speaking a took a chair from the kitchen and placed it at a sideward position opposite were my lady was sat. Dropping my trousers I exposed the front of my thighs and sat down.

“I told you when we first got together that if I did something wrong then I would ask you to punish me. I also told you I would always be honest.”

I winced as Kim ran the belt through her fingers.

“”What have you done ?” She whispered.

Broken the masturbation agreement.

“Crack!” I yelled out as the unexpected extremely hard blow lashed the front of my thighs.

Now standing she bent forwards so her eyes met mine.

“How many times did you break it?!” She was angry.

“Before you answer, take your top off, keep your bra on… remove your trousers. Keep your knickers on. Turn around in the chair to expose your back. Hold onto the back of the chair with your hands.”

Breathing shallowly I did as I was requested.

“Now how many times?!” She demanded, a sharp edge to her voice.

“Every day since we moved in together”

I whispered gripping the chair back expecting another unpredictable lash.

“So 182 days then ?” I could hear disappointment in her voice as she spoke.

“Move your hair out of the way” she demanded.

“I am disappointed and annoyed, because of this you will receive 182 lashes across your back, or you will receive enough to make you cry plus 10. Whichever comes first. Do you understand ?”

A tear dropped onto the back of my hand. 182 lashes, fuck.

“Yes miss” I whispered as I scooped my hair around to the front of my chest. Exposing my shoulders.

Yelling out I gripped the chair. I’d never been whipped across the back before. It was a lot more painful then expected.

“Ten” I screamed as the belt lashed my shoulders. The pain that intense that tears rolled down my cheeks. The raised belt shaped lump I could see it in my mind as I felt it forming on my back.

“Thwack!” I burst into tears as I arched my back and yelled out.

“Okay… 11 strokes is not enough punishment for what you have done”

Her voice was stern and cold.

“Stand up!” She demanded.

“Hold out the offending hand, the one you masturbated with”

Shamefully I held out my right hand, the hand that for days and days had given me so much pleasure. The hand that today was going to recieve extreme pain.

“Thwack!” I screamed in agony as the first stroke left an immediate red whelt across my palm.

“Thwack, eight.”

“Thwack, thwack! Ten !” I yelled jumping up and down and holding my palm tightly in between my legs” the last two strokes had been in quick succession and the stinging had not had time to disperse before the next one.

“Now, you will choose your final punishment” my lady explained as she sat on the chair in front of me.

I stayed still, my back, front of thighs and hand throbbing.

“Yes miss” I responded tearful.

“25 lashes with the horse riding crop across the back of your legs, 105 riding crop lashes across your bottom, or 5 hard belt licks across your groin area” she said pointing to were my hand had been regularly visiting in the last week.

My mind worked overtime. But my mouth opened without my brain.

“5 licks across my groin miss, I was disrespectful and that’s were I was disrespectful”

“Go upstairs and lay on your back on the bed” putting my head down I walked up the stairs. Doing what was asked of me I allowed my sore back to rest against the soft duvet.

“Legs open, knees up” she whispered, almost unsure herself of what she was doing.

“Place your hands under your bottom”

I did as I was told and looked up at the ceiling. Closing my eyes I winced as I felt the cool leather rest on my groin. Carefully my lady lined the belt up for the first stroke.

“Thwack” my mouth opened but no sound came out, I felt my back arch as I gripped the bedsheets. The thin cloth on my knickers doing nothing to protect me. Starting to cry I relaxed my body the best I could. Awaiting the next stroke that I deserved. The pain was incomprehensible in contrast to anything I had ever experienced.

2 weeks later.

I was at home alone. My hand reached for my groin. A warm sensation already forming.

I got to the buckle of my belt and stopped. 14 days ago I had screamed in agony as I took the last 3 of five strokes.

Laying on the bed I removed the belt then my trousers. Exposing the soft flesh on the front of my legs.

Sitting up I looked down the side of the bed. The horse riding crop staring back at me. Picking it up I placed the belt in my mouth and lined the crop up with the front of my legs.

“Thwack!” A red welt shortly followed by bruising formed on my legs. Biting down on the belt hard I struck the same spot again. I deserved to be punished.

Five lashes later and my groin was no longer warm. But I was in tears.

That is how I would deal with my attempted disrespectful behaviour from now on.

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