Chapter Eleven
I spank Chrissy by hand. There is an intimacy when flesh meets flesh. I can feel the skin yield and rebound, growing warmer with each ringing smack. At first, red handprints mark the spots where I strike, branding her with my personal mark.
Then the spots lap and merge, until the buttocks before me are a uniform shade of scarlet. She has built endurance from repeated applications of paddle and strap, and bears this spanking with only rapid breathing to signify the pain I give her.
When my hands are stinging, I pause to run my fingertips over her body. Her hands have been drawn down the legs of the bench and secured, stretching the muscles of her back tight across her shoulder blades, ribs, and spine. A belt around her waist holds her belly tight to the top of the bench an
