"Roll over onto your stomach," he says, his voice rough. There's enough give in the sash that I'm able to do as he says. There's a dip in the mattress. He's sitting on the back of my legs and I'm trapped to the bed, unable to move. His hands rub circles on my butt cheeks, warming them. "You have such a nice ass. I'm about to color the shit out of it." Then, without warning, a whoosh slices through the air and he strikes my ass with a belt.
