| Subject: The Belt Room |
Author:
Stan
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Date Posted: 10:23:50 01/30/16 Sat
[Most of my posts are factual accounts, but this one is largely fantasy. However, like most fantasies, it reveals something of its creator.]
It was Sunday morning and a neighbor's barking dog woke me up prematurely. I looked at my watch and decided I needed a couple more hours of sleep. However, that sleep was not forthcoming. In frustration, I decided to entertain myself with an erotic fantasy. . . . . . . . .
Whenever I'd drive off to go somewhere, I'd often pass by a certain house 2 blocks away. Most of the time, I'd see the owner of that house working in his front yard. He was probably in his early 50's, but, in my opinion, well-preserved and surprisingly muscular for his age. I never saw him with a woman. So I wondered if he might be "my kind of man".
A lot of people in my neighborhood take walks around the area for exercise. It occurred to me that, if I took a walk around the neighborhood, under the guise of getting exercise, it might give me an opportunity to talk with that man. So I set out on my walk. As I approached the man's house, I got a little (actually a lot) nervous. To be honest, I'm not very good at introducing myself with small talk, especially in a situation as risky as this. As usual, the man was outside working in his front yard. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a 1 3/4" wide black garrison belt, which was a real turn-on for me. And, unlike most guys these days, his belt was not hidden by his shirt tails hanging out, as the current men's fashion seems to dictate. (I can't wait for that fashion to end!)
I said "Hello" to him and told him that his front yard looked really nice. We chatted about plants for a while, but feeling I wasn't getting anywhere, I finally got up enough nerve to tell him that was a nice-looking belt he had on. I told him I've always preferred wide belts to narrow ones, and that wide belts looked more manly. Maybe I had gone too far. I was afraid he might get really "weird" on me after my comments, but he surprised me with the reply "A man that appreciates a good belt is a man after my own heart!" I was so startled by his reply that I couldn't think of anything to say.
Luckily, his next comment really broke the ice. "Perhaps you'd like to come into my house. I have a room you might find very interesting". That sounded a little suspicious to me. But I had been lonely for so long, I wasn't going to pass up on this possible opportunity. So I followed him into the house. He led me toward one of the bedrooms. He turned around and said "I call this my belt room." I wondered what he meant. When I entered that room, my jaw dropped. Stretching across one entire wall of the room was a row of wide leather belts hanging from hooks. For those of you old enough to remember the 1960s and 1970s, his "belt room" reminded me, more than anything else, of those "leather stores" that were so popular then, with their endless rows of wide handmade leather belts hanging on racks. For someone like myself who seemed to have a fetish for wide leather belts, I was in Seventh Heaven during those two decades. Now, it seems like so long ago. One wonders if it was all a dream?
He told me to take my time and enjoy looking over his extensive belt collection. I was getting a real hard-on just being around all those wide leather belts (and being with someone who obviously appreciated them as much as I did)! He told me to pick out the belt I liked the best. That was not an easy thing to do as there were so many nice-looking belts, but I finally picked out a black 2" wide double-prong roller-buckle belt with a satiny sheen. I told him I used to wear a belt just like that. It had been my favorite belt, and, to me, it was almost erotic in appearance. But, unfortunately, I had "outgrown" it (literally).
My attention had been so focused on that fabulous collection of belts that it wasn't until some time later that I realized there was no bed in that bedroom. In fact, the only other thing in that room, beside the belts, was something completely covered by an opaque painter's drop cloth in the middle of the room. It might have been a very low piece of furniture, but I couldn't tell. I told him I was curious to know what was underneath the drop cloth. He said "I hope you won't freak out if I show you."
He slowly pulled off the drop cloth. However, once the object was totally visible, I still had no idea what it was. Maybe an exotic piece of exercise equipment? He noticed my puzzled look. So he explained "This is a spanking bench." When my puzzled look failed to disappear, he spelled it out for me in more detail. "Whenever I have the occasion to administer a belt whipping to a guy, I first lock him into restraints on this spanking bench so he can't escape from the sting of my belt." I asked him how often he had such occasions, and he replied, "Not nearly often enough!"
Then he caught me completely off guard when he asked, "Would you like to try out my spanking bench and see how it fits you?" I experienced some fear in the pit of my stomach as I wasn't sure what his intentions really were. I had never tried anything like this before. I was always too scared. However, I was quite aroused too and I managed to reply "Yes". He told me to take off all my clothes. When I lay down on the spanking bench, I was on all fours (hands and knees) My abdomen rested on a raised pad in the middle of the bench. The upper half of my body was sloped slightly downward so that my butt stuck up a little higher than the rest of my body, leaving it exposed and vulnerable. The guy then buckled leather restraints, which were attached to the front legs of the bench, around my wrists (rather tightly, I thought). Then he buckled leather restraints, which were attached to the raised middle portion of the bench, around the lower part of my thighs (just above the knees). A third pair of leather restraints, which were attached to the rear portion of the bench, were buckled around the top portion of my calves (just below the knees). "There was no backing out now", I thought.
He then asked me how it felt being tied down to his spanking bench. I told him it felt really good, and I was quite aroused by that feeling. He then told me to try to "escape" from the bench. I was able to move my butt a little from side to side, but not much else. Escape was obviously impossible!
I then noticed that the tone of his voice had somehow changed. It had been quite friendly at first, but now it seemed almost stern. He said "As you can see, you are now my prisoner. And you know what happens to prisoners?" That turned out to be a rhetorical question as he very quickly added "They get punished!" I got really scared when he said that. He then walked over to the row of belts and pulled out the one I had favored (the black 2" wide double-prong roller-buckle belt). He then doubled that belt over and walked back toward me. He said something to me, but I was having trouble focusing on his words because, all the time he was talking, he would repeatedly smack that heavy leather belt into the palm of his free hand. I don't know if he was even aware of it, but it scared the hell out of me. I thought to myself "What did I let myself in for?"
He told me, "Now we're going to separate the men from the boys. I'm going to administer 50 lashes with this belt as your punishment. I told him I had never gotten a whipping before. So I didn't know how much I could really take. "Well then", he replied, "You are long overdue for a whipping. I'm pretty good at judging how much punishment a man can TAKE, and I think 50 lashes with a belt on your naked buttocks is exactly what you NEED".
My body tensed up in anticipation of that punishment, which started without delay. The first time he swung that belt, it landed right in the middle of one cheek. The second lash landed in the middle of the other cheek. The stinging sensation that resulted was kind of arousing at first. However, as subsequent lashes began to land on the same spots as previous lashes, they were no longer arousing, but felt like a sharp burning pain. It quickly became evident to me that this guy was not play-acting. This whipping was "for real". He was laying that belt on REALLY HARD! It was all I could do to keep from crying. I squeezed my buttocks together tightly in an automatic defensive reaction, although I now wonder whether that might have made the pain worse rather than better. After giving me 10 lashes, the whipping stopped. He gently, but firmly, rubbed his hands over my cheeks and commented that they were now a lovely shade of pink. It appeared he was going to be "lenient" and curtail my punishment after only 10 lashes. That talk about giving me 50 lashes was obviously just a ploy to frighten me (you know, "psychological domination").
But when I saw him raise that belt again, I realized that I had jumped to the wrong conclusion. The whipping was going to resume! After enduring 6 more lashes, I couldn't stand the pain anymore and burst out crying. 4 lashes later, he stopped the whipping once again. I told him I couldn't take any more of the belt. He then said something that I've never forgotten, "When you can't take any more of the pain, that's when the REAL PUNISHMENT begins!" He told me the sentence of 50 lashes was going to be carried out in full. There would be no reprieve. And there would be no more breaks. Then, in a tone that sounded somewhat threatening to me, he said "By the time I'm through with you, your ass is going to be fire engine RED!"
He raised his belt once again and began the remaining 30 lashes of my punishment. After only a few lashes, I started crying again. As the pain got worse, I would instinctively squeeze my eyelids shut as tightly as I could, trying to make the pain go away. Every time he raised that belt, the muscles in my butt would make a pitiful attempt to "brace" themselves for the next lash. Soon, I was letting out a fearsome yell with every stroke of his belt. The pain was unbearable. Surely this is what Hell feels like!
After the 50th lash, the whipping stopped. However, I was still apprehensive because he had not yet released me from the leather restraints. But then, I felt his warm hands massaging my back, my buttocks, and the back of my legs. It felt like he was trying to counteract the shock I had experienced as a result of the whipping. Once I had sufficiently recovered, he took off his clothes. Suddenly, I felt the warmth of his crotch up against my buttocks, which were still radiating heat from the whipping. Then I felt the warmth of his chest against my back. I was still locked in those restraints so I could do nothing to resist his advances, even if I had wanted to. He was still in complete control, and it was obvious he was going to have his way with me. It had been a long time since I had "been with" a man. It felt so good. I had paid a heavy price for this intimacy, but it was worth it. I felt reinvigorated.
As he released me from the leather restraints of his spanking bench, I realized that my fantasy was now over with. Time to get out of bed and face a new day.
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