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My Hot Belt, Your Hot Arse

by Joelstrap

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 13 Feb 2018

My Hot Belt, Your Hot Arse

I opened the Valentine cards at breakfast. The one from Cal was expected, but still sent a frisson of excitement round my body. The other was a surprise. On the front was a huge red heart with lots of little hearts around it.

Oooh! said my mum, You’ve got another admirer, Joe.

Yeh, yeh, okay, I said, feeling the colour rising in my face.

Do you know who it is? mum persisted.

I shook my head.

Maybe there’s a name inside, she went on.

Mum; it’s a Valentine. You don’t sign your name on it. I just know Cal’s because I recognise his writing.

I know; but have a look anyway. What does it say? There might be a message.

Yeh; well, if there is, I’m not reading it to you, I assured her.

I opened the card, carefully holding it up so that she couldn’t see what was in it. The mild colour in my face suddenly rose sharply in temperature and I felt my ears and cheeks burning crimson.

Wow! Must be a real sexy message, Joe.


Inside, the sender had stuck his own message over the printed poem. I was looking at a pair of well-rounded buttocks, pinkish at the edges and decidedly red in the centre. Round their perimeter was a dark brown leather belt, the buckle at the top. Underneath was written in an untidy scrawl: My Hot Belt; Your Hot Arse. A line of kisses followed.

So? Do you know who it’s from?

No. No idea, I replied honestly.

Oh come on, Joe, there must be some hunky boy that’s shown an interest in you, said mum.

Mum, please! The only hunky boy is Cal; and you know about him.

Oh, all right; but to judge by the colour you’ve gone this mystery-guy must have expressed his feelings pretty strongly, said mum perceptively.

Er, well, yeh; but I’ve honestly no idea who would say.......would say that, I ended lamely.

Say what, Joe?

I hastily put the card back in its envelope and darted off to my room to get ready for work. I decided to take the card with me as I wasn’t entirely convinced that mum would be able to resist having a look at it while I was out.

Don’t you elope with your admirer, Joe, warned mum as I left the house. It’s pizza and chips tonight remember.

Yes, mum, I sighed as I made my escape.


Cal and I had met when we both started work at the huge head-office of the insurance-company. Neither of us had wanted to go on for more education and although it meant starting at a fairly lowly level, we were content to be earning money. We had begun as friends and gone on to be lovers. The sex was white-hot and since we were both horny as hell virtually all the time, like any eighteen-year-olds I guess, we got together as often as we could to fuck each other silly.
I was at the coffee-machine mid-morning when he came along.

Hi! Listen, Cal. I got this Valentine. Apart from yours, I mean.

I fished it out and let him see the front.

Very nice. What’s it say? Who’s it from? And why is some strange guy sending you a Valentine?

How should I know? There’s no name on it; and don’t ask about it in that way that sounds like you’re accusing me of something, I said irritably. But the message inside says the guy wants to take his belt to me.

It says that?

Yeh; not exactly those words, but that’s what it means, I said, strangely reluctant to let him see the highly appreciative comment about my bottom.

You gonna let me see, Joe?

Er, no. It’s kinda personal.

Personal? You mean it’s dirty? Kinky?

No; it’s just......personal.

Okay. But if a guy wants to take his belt to you, he must have noticed your arse.

Well, yeh, I guess.

Not that I blame the guy. It’s one fucking great bum.

I’m not so sure he likes it, I said, blushing furiously. if he wants to take his belt to it!

Maybe he’d love to leather it, suggested Cal.

But who wants to tan my hide?

Dunno. Anyone commented on it recently?

No! Guys don’t go around making comments about my arse!

I bet they do, opined Cal, appraising my posterior with a critical eye. It’s fantastic to look at; and absolutely brilliant to hold and touch and stroke and f.......

Yeh, yeh, okay. Just shut up, will you? Someone might overhear us.

The only Valentine I got was from you, said Cal. But then I don’t have a devastatingly irresistible bottom like you have.

Hello! Got a boy who’s fallen in love with you, Joe? asked Mr Collins, the boss of our section.

I hadn’t seen him approach and he caught a glimpse of the Valentine as I shoved it into my jacket-pocket.

Er, yes, sir. But it’s anonymous, I said.

Ah well, you good-looking young guys will have your admirers. Have fun when you find out who it is, he said as he strode on past.

He likes you, observed Cal.

Huh? Collins?

Yeh. He was checking out your arse; and your junk, he added.

Well, I don’t like him, I said.

Aw, come on, Joe. He’s not bad-looking. I shouldn’t think he’s much past thirty; and he obviously works out.

I know, but he just doesn’t do it for me. Hey! I said as a thought struck me. You don’t think he could’ve sent that card?

Could be, said Cal slowly. And he did talk about you finding out who it was from, as if he knew you would soon; which could mean he sent it and he’s gonna tell you later.

But why would Collins want to leather my bum?

Maybe that’s his thing. He gets off on tanning young guys’ hides, suggested Cal.

I was sceptical.

He doesn’t look like he could dish out a belting, I said. I mean, he’s got the muscles; but he just doesn’t have that dominant look about him.

What dominant look?

You know. Some guys just have it; they look dominant. Like you, I said.


Yeh. Don’t look horrified. It’s not a bad thing, Cal. I like it when you get rough with me and just take me the way you want and to hell with what I want.

You do?

Sure. I don’t just put up with that; I enjoy it.

I like doing it; but I wondered if maybe you were just humouring me; or were too polite to tell me to stop, admitted Cal.

I’ll tell you to stop if you do anything I don’t want, I assured him. And you better not stop sorting me out!


Next morning as I was getting ready to set off for work, I heard the clatter of the refuse-truck coming along the road. Oh, shit! I thought. One of my chores was to put out the wheelie-bin and I’d forgotten, as I’d done several times in the past few months. I raced outside, grabbed the bin-handles, and yanked it down the path and out on to the road, just as the lorry reached our gate. The big, rough-looking, sexy blond guy who usually seemed to empty our bin came striding along and winked at me as he pulled the bin to the back of the truck.

Sleep in again, eh? he said, grinning broadly.

Na. I just forgot; as usual. Just as well you didn’t beat me to it or mum would’ve been on the war-path, I admitted, admiring his deep blue eyes.

Beat you with her rolling-pin, would she? he asked as he shoved the emptied bin back into my hands.

Er, hardly; but she’d tear me off a strip, that’s for sure.

He shook his head and galloped off to the next gate to catch up with his mate who was doing the bins on the other side of the road. It was as I was making my way along the road to work that a thought crossed my mind. That wheelie-bin guy. He was always making comments to me when I came out panting with the bin just in time; and I had been sure he’d been checking me out on several occasions. Not that I had any problem with that. I’d checked him out plenty of times. Could he have sent the Valentine? Some of his comments were a bit suggestive; and today’s business about beating me might hint at the way his mind was working. I asked Cal what he thought at coffee-time.

Shouldn’t think so, he said. I’d have thought he’d be more likely to go in for action.


Yeh. Grab you, throw you over a wheelie-bin, yank out his belt, and tan your hide for you.

He could hardly do that in the street, I protested.

Well, you know what I mean. Maybe he’d just ask you right out if you wanted to come to his place tonight so he could leather you, because he thinks you’ve got a great arse.

I snorted. Yeh; that’s likely. Mind you, I’d rather be tanned by him than that smarmy bastard Collins.

You want a guy to take his belt to your behind, Joe? asked Cal, looking closely at me.

Never really thought about it before, I replied. I guess it could be quite exciting. Do you think whoever sent the Valentine will reveal himself?

Not much point if he doesn’t, said Cal thoughtfully. He’s never gonna get to leather your tail if he doesn’t let you know who he is.

I suppose so; but maybe he’s waiting for me to find out for myself. Maybe I gotta try to discover if it was Collins or the wheelie-bin guy, or someone else.


Cal and I were in the canteen having lunch when Roger came and sat with us. He was a compactly-built guy, lithe and slender as a cat, dark-skinned and he simply oozed animal sexuality out of every pore of his body. He’d be in his early twenties and he and I had eyed each other appreciatively on a number of occasions. He had a boyfriend though, who also worked in the insurance-company, and so was off-limits to me, even if I hadn’t had Cal. He was a persistent flirt, however, constantly making suggestive and embarrassing remarks which I found simultaneously exciting and annoying. I noticed that he had a broad, hefty-looking belt of dull black leather round his waist.

Hi, honey-buns! he said to me as he sat down.

Honey-buns? asked Cal.

I flushed.

He keeps telling me that he wants to spread honey on my buns and then lick it off, I explained.

Listen, mate, said Cal to Roger, I know he’s cute and he’s got an arse to die for, but he’s mine. If anybody’s gonna be licking honey off his buns, it’s me, okay?

Sure, sure, replied Roger pacifically. Only fooling about, mate.

We chatted about other things while we ate, but after Roger had gone I asked Cal if he thought maybe Roger had sent the Valentine.

More likely than your bin-man, I’d say. He obviously appreciates your arse; he’s got a great belt; and he’s sexiness on legs; and he’d just love to get into your pants, said Cal.

How’d you know that?

I can see how he looks at you. If I wasn’t around, and he didn’t have a boyfriend, he’d be following you into the toilets, shoving you into a cubicle, back to the wall, and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Then he’d rip your trousers and pants down, bend you over the pan and fuck you into the middle of next week, elaborated Cal.

I hastily shoved a hand into my groin to rearrange things, as my penis had reacted powerfully to this scenario.

Like that idea, do you? asked Cal with a broad grin.

Bastard! I hissed at him. Now I gotta stay sitting here until I can walk properly again.

So, if he sent the Valentine, maybe you ought to ask him. Like you said, maybe you need to find out for yourself. Think it could be him, Joe?

Shit! How should I know? It could be.

Like to feel that belt of his?

My penis, which was just beginning to retreat, soared to full length again and made me flinch.

That answers that then, observed Cal.

But it’s all kind of academic, isn’t it, if you’re not gonna let any guy touch my arse? It doesn’t matter who it is, or if I find out, because he’s not going to leather my tail anyway.

Too right he’s not, agreed Cal. But it’d be good to find out who it is. Go on. Go and ask Roger if he sent the card.

Roger was standing near the door, chatting idly to a colleague. I joined them and Roger at once excused himself to the other guy and turned to me.

Hi; escaped from your handler and come to get me to honey your buns for you? he said.

Roger, did you send me a Valentine? I asked outright.

He opened his eyes wide. Fuck! He is gorgeous!

No, but you can have me as your Valentine any day you want. That’s a big package you got there between your legs, Joe, and you just say the word and I’ll unpack it and play with it for you any time you want. Provided our boyfriends aren’t around of course, he added with a grin.

We’d best not risk it, I said.

Yeh. That big sexy bugger of yours looks like he could really fillet my face if he thought I was messing with you.

Yeh, I agreed, feeling a cosy sense of being safe and protected.

He says it’s not him, I reported to Cal. I’m gonna ask the bin-guy next week. I just gotta know. But first, I’d best see what Collins has to say.

Collins was just finishing his lunch and I went over to his table. He smiled warmly at me.

Sorry I’m finished, Joe, he said. We could’ve had lunch together.

Yeh. Can I ask you something? It’s a bit embarrassing.

Of course. Fire away. How could I say no to a stunning guy like you?

Oh, er, yeh; I mean no. Oh, shit! I ended feeling my face hot and my ears burning.

Sorry, said Collins, although he didn’t look in the slightest repentant.

Actually what you just said maybe makes it a bit easier. You know, jokes about me being stunning.

I could see he was about to leap in and deny it was a joke, so I pressed ahead fast.

I got a Valentine which was from a guy who said my behind; and I wondered if maybe it was one of your jokes?

Sorry, Joe; not guilty; but it wouldn’t have been a joke. I know I’m your boss, but I have to tell you that you’ve got a great pair of buns there. I wish I had thought to send you a Valentine about them, he said regretfully.

Come on, Joe, said Cal at my shoulder. Time we got back to work or Mr Collins will be sacking us for taking too long a lunch-hour.

Cal put his hand in the back pocket of my trousers and propelled me away, even as Collins protested he’d never sack anyone for such a thing.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? I demanded of Cal.

Just making sure Collins knows who your arse belongs to, he said.

Oh. I’d definitely rather it belonged to you than to him, I told him.

I should think so, retorted Cal. I do give you credit for some taste.

Right. Anyway, next week to ask the bin-guy.


For the first time ever, I was deliberately late in putting out the bin. I waited until I heard the truck in the road and then dashed out. To my surprise, Cal was walking along towards my house just as the truck stopped and the blond collector strode up to me.

Hi, spunky! he greeted me.

I gotta ask you something, I said, holding on to the bin so that he couldn’t drag it to the truck. Did you send me a Valentine saying liked my arse?

Huh? Me? Fuck, no! But I do like your arse, he said, eyeing it admiringly. See this?

He pulled the bin away from me and thrust it into the contraption at the back of the lorry, which accepted it, tipped it up, banged it a couple of times back and forward, and emptied it. Blond guy returned the bin to me.

I got something that I could shove up that gorgeous arse of yours and empty into you, just like the bin, he said, giving his groin a suggestive and obscene thrust towards me.

Cal joined us.

Hi, Joe.

He put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me firmly and sexily on the mouth. Blond bin-guy watched, shrugged, and stalked off. I stared at Cal.

You’re a jealous bugger, I observed.

You complaining?

I wouldn’t dare.


Later we discussed who else might have sent the Valentine, but there was no other obvious candidate.

Oh well. Just have to wait and see if the guy shows himself, I said.

But you think you’d like to get a belt taken to your behind, Joe?

I’m not sure; but I’m up for trying new things; and thinking about it sure gets me hard. But, like I said before, you’re not gonna let any other guy anywhere near my arse, so it’s not gonna happen anyway.

We left it at that; and as the weeks passed and February slid into spring, I forgot all about the Valentine.


We were lying on sun-beds in my garden on a warm afternoon in April, both on a week’s post-Easter holiday, and with the house to ourselves as my parents were both out working. Cal, who was completely naked, suddenly pushed his hand down inside my shorts and felt his way round my junk like it was his own. I felt my cock rise fast even as I glanced at him.

Horny bugger, aren’t you? he said with a cheeky grin.

Any guy’s gonna get hard if a sexy spunk like you shoves his hand in his goolies, I riposted. And you’re hardly the one to talk about horny, I added, eyeing his massive erection.

That’s your fault! Lying there looking sexy as sin; no wonder my body reacts. So, you wanna fuck?

You’ll have to catch me first, I said, leaping to my feet and haring off across the garden.

Bastard! Just you wait! And when I do catch you, I’m gonna do more than fuck you!

I glanced over my shoulder as I ran across the grass. Cal was gaining on me already. I sprinted through the fruit-trees and doubled back to the house, but by the time I reached the back-door, I could hear his thundering feet. I was almost inside when the door was pulled from my grasp and Cal had grabbed my arm. He shoved me hard against the wall and pressed his naked body against mine, pinning me in place, his right hand holding my left wrist above my shoulder. I could feel his massive boner lying alongside my own, separated from it only by the thin denim of my shorts.

Lemme go!

I tried to duck out of his grasp, but he grabbed my other wrist and held both my hands against the wall above my shoulders. His breath was hot on my face and I could smell the strong scent of his body, of his sweat. He moved against me and I ground my groin against him in response. He kissed me hard and roughly, his lively tongue probing deep into my mouth while sounds like a hive of angry bees came from him. I closed my eyes and gave myself willingly to the kiss.

So, that’s no way to behave when I wanna fuck you, is it?

See if I care, I said, deliberately provoking him.

He released my left hand and slapped me sharply on the face with his free hand.

Ow! That stung!

He slapped me hard on the bare thigh.


Gonna apologise for running away, Joe?

Fuck you!

I think I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, Joe.

Yeh? Go on then!

With his free hand he slapped my face and then grabbed my balls and squeezed firmly. I gasped aloud and rose on tiptoe, my body tense as I tried to process the pain.

Gonna say sorry?

Yeh, I panted. Let go, Cal; please!

He didn’t.

So let me hear it then.

I’m sorry. Please let my balls go!

You sure, Joe?

Yeh; yeh! I’m sure!

He released my testicles and I dropped slowly back on to my feet and looked resentfully at him.

That wasn’t funny!

It wasn’t meant to be. And it ain’t gonna be funny when I spank you either.

Spank me?

That’s right. I think you need taking in hand. Over my knee for a good, hard spanking to make sure you’ve learned your lesson.


You heard me.

Hey! I was just angling for a bit of rough sex. You know I like it when you just take me hard.

Oh, and I’m gonna take you hard. Don’t you worry about that. But first I’m gonna get your arse nice and hot and ready for me.

My cock was fully erect, sticking out far above the waist of my shorts; and this kind of talk made it thrust ever more eagerly upward. Cal noticed.

Looks like you’re up for it, Joe. Spanking, and then you get fucked. Let’s get up to your room.

We ran upstairs and Cal sat on my bed.

Get over my knee.

I positioned myself over Cal’s lap, my full erection hard against his leg. I could feel his own boner pressing into my side. His hand, broad and hard, began to spank me steadily and thrillingly, each slap of palm on bottom raising my excitement level. I winced as the sting built up but the spanks were joy, pain that was yet delight, powerful and deeply erotic stimulation. I felt my body thrusting forward as he spanked me and suddenly he stopped and caressed my hot skin.

Not yet, Joe.

I sighed and held my body in check while Cal ran a long forefinger across the puckered flesh of my hole, making me shudder with need. He bent his head and licked my burning bottom.

Spank me! I pleaded. Hard!

Cal obliged. Once again his hand was snapping all over my bare behind. He brought it down in stinging slaps, palm flat. He cupped his hand and smacked my buns. He bounced open-handed swats off the crown of my buttocks. He delivered fast volleys of spanks to my crease and upper legs and made me squeal and wriggle in painful delight. From time to time he paused to feel his way over my bottom with gentle hands; and then he launched into another flurry of spanks which made me squirm and gasp and thrust harder and harder against his leg.

Okay. On your back; legs up.

I rolled eagerly off his knees and presented myself to him as instructed. His bare skin thrusting hard against my spanked flesh as he fucked me brought a whole new level of thrilling sensations to our love-making. I exploded in a fountain of cum which reached my face, even as, deep inside me, Cal reached his own climax, sounding the bass-strings of ecstasy.

Outta this world! I said when I got my breath back. That spanking was bloody fantastic, Cal; and I want it again.

Great; ’cos I’m planning on doing it again; often.

I sighed contentedly.

I think I’ll leather you next time, said Cal.

Leather me? You mean take your belt to me?

My hot belt; your hot arse, said Cal dreamily.

Mmm. Just like in the Valen........hey! Back up a bit! How did you know that? I demanded.

How do you think, Joe?

I never told you the words inside the card and it’s hidden away. You can’t have seen it, unless...........

You getting there, Joe?

Unless you sent it!

Spot on! I sent the Valentine. Why didn’t you show me the inside or tell me what it said, anyway?

It was embarrassing; and....and I thought you might not be pleased if you thought another guy was after my arse in such an explicit way; or maybe even thought I’d been mucking about with another guy. Which I hadn’t, I added vehemently. I wouldn’t do that.

I know, honey-buns, I know.

That was Roger; not me. I can’t stop him speaking to me!

It’s okay, Joe. I’m teasing you.

So, why did you send me the card? If you wanted to leather my bum, why not just ask me? I’d have said yes.

You would?

Sure I would! A big, sexy, dominant guy like you? How could I say no?

But I wanted to be sure you were up for it. I mean really up for it; not just to please me. I thought the card would give me a chance to find out what you really thought about the belt; and I was delighted when you seemed as if you’d like to try it. But getting a chance to leather you wasn’t so easy. I mean we can fuck without making a sound, but your folk or mine would hear a belting if they were in the house. Now, when we’re on holiday and got the house to ourselves, was the first real chance since February. I know we’ve had to wait a few weeks; but I wanted it to be right.

And it was, Cal. It was.

Now that you know, I should give you something.

Give me something?

I got a surprise for you.

You’re gonna spank me again?

Sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

He raised himself and stood up and I felt a momentary pang of loss as he moved away from me.

I’ve gotta run down to the garden for something. You stay right there, Joe. Understand?

Okay. I’m not going anywhere.

When he returned, I raised myself on an elbow to look at him. He was holding his jeans and began to pull the belt from the waist-band. I hadn’t noticed it when he’d arrived earlier in the day; and most of the time he wasn’t wearing the denims anyway. He snapped the belt with a crack like a whip. I winced involuntarily. The belt was deep brown in colour, broad and thick.

You’re gonna leather me with that?

Yeh; but just be patient. Look! It’s mine to wear; but it’s for you too, though not to wear, he added with a grin.

He handed me the belt and lay face-down beside me. I savoured the texture and density of the leather.

Fuck! This is gonna sting like a bike of angry wasps, I said. It’s........oh!

I had turned the belt over, and saw that, inscribed on the underside, were the words:
My hot belt; your hot arse.

This is the belt from the photo in the Valentine. I recognise the buckle, I said. So whose arse was it in the pic?

It was yours actually, Cal confessed. I snapped it one night after I’d fucked you; and I added the spanking-red to the pic.

That was my own arse in the card?

Like it said: my hot belt; your hot arse.

But I didn’t recognise it!

You don’t look at it as much as I do, said Cal with a grin.

So the pic in the Valentine really is gonna be for real? Your belt and my bottom? Boy, this is fucking hot!

And that’s exactly what your behind’s gonna be tomorrow, Joe. Red hot.


We had my house to ourselves again the next day and Cal arrived wearing the hot belt. I fingered it as we kissed in the hall. Cal ended the kiss slowly and held my head with one hand while he laid the other on mine at his waist.

You up for it, Joe?

Your call, I said. You wanna leather me, you leather me.

We went to my room and Cal stripped me very slowly, pausing frequently to kiss different parts of my body as he uncovered them. When he had me naked, he removed all his own clothes and pulled the belt from the waist of his jeans. He told me to kneel on all fours on my bed and then caressed my bottom. Just waiting to be belted by him had me rock-hard. He drew the belt sexily across my bare skin and then held it to my nose so that I got the erotic scent of it. I squirmed with urgent desire.

It’s gonna be hot, Joe.

Oh yeh! I want it hot, Cal; hot as hell!

I jumped as Cal snapped the doubled belt viciously between his two hands and a crack echoed across the room. Next moment the belt snapped again; but this time it was across the bare skin of my bottom. I winced. Boy! That stung! The strokes came, hard and steadily, covering my rear from high on the crown of my buttocks to low on the crease, where my upper legs began. Fires began to burn fiercely in my buns and, as the belt was laid on determinedly over skin which was already hot and tender, the pain-level rose. I gasped and flinched and yelped and clenched my buttocks, vainly seeking to ease the searing burn. A lick which landed very hard right at the very lowest edge of my buttocks forced a squeal from me and my right hand flew to rub desperately at the tormented flesh.

Hand away, said Cal softly; and although I cursed him inwardly, I obeyed.

He continued to wield his belt until he really had me writhing; but I refused to ask him to stop. For some reason which I couldn’t explain, it was important to take this from him. When at last he ceased to leather me, he caressed my flaming bottom with gentle yet confident hands and I slowly relaxed and moaned with pain and delight. My penis rose swiftly as he stroked me and I arched my back, pushing up my bottom, spreading my legs, inviting him in. He accepted the invitation, and the pressure of his body against my burning skin was a searing of ecstasy; his powerful thrusting was a thrilling violence; his breath hot on my neck was a tempest of pleasure; and his climax was an explosion which detonated my own orgasm and sent my spunk spurting into my hair. I collapsed flat on the bed and Cal was heavy and fulfilled on my back, his mouth nuzzling at my ears and neck, his teeth nibbling gently.

Hot enough for you, Joe?

Unbelievable! You know something? I’ve been jerking off with that Valentine open in front of me for the past few weeks, imagining what it would be like to get the belt in the pic used on my arse. Boy! That was hot!

Kinda kinky, cumming in front of a pic of your own bum, observed Cal.

I didn’t know it was my bum!

And getting the actual belt used on your own bum wasn’t a let-down after all your fantasies?

You kidding me? Masturbating was hot; but the real thing? That was a searing blast of hell-fire ravaging my arse with tongues of flame like the whips of the Furies, I told him.

Oh. So I guess you liked it, huh?

There were no words, so I kissed him with a white-hot passion which left him panting and staring in astonishment at me when I withdrew my mouth from his.

Fucking hell, Joe! Getting leathered with my belt was that hot?

You best believe it.

I do; and I’ll be taking this belt to your arse again. If our Valentine’s love is gonna keep going, we gotta keep stoking up the fires. If I leather you regularly, that should keep my belt and your bottom nice and hot.



I guess that’s it then, I said contentedly. Your hot belt; my hot arse....for ever!

He kissed my ear and then spoke softly into it, his words a mere susurration, wafted on his hot breath into the heart of my being. He told me exactly what he was going to do to me next, and then he did it; and it was fiery-hot!

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