Boot spanking

One corner of our bedroom is a little different than most. The walls and floor have hitching rings. Plenty of them. There’s almost no place you can’t lock something into place. Or lock me.

I was locked into several of them so tightly I couldn’t really move. She stood behind me sounding very angry. I had no idea why.

“How could you be so stupid, so rude?” Even without the gag in place I don’t think I’d have admitted I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well my little toy you are about to get an education. You once told me you wondered what it would be like to be punished to tears. And I’m tired of you being such a quiet stoic sufferer.”

I was scared and very worried. My penis told me that I was also excited.

Her heel bore into the bottom of my thigh. Slowly it worked its way up. Sometimes she’d stop and dig into a spot, twisting the heel back and forth. Jabbing and jabbing until she reached the top of my buttocks. I hurt like hell. The jabs started their slow progression down the back of my other cheek and thigh.

As badly as I hurt I was still baffled. She’d worked me this hard before but never over such a limited area. But the back of the thighs and buttocks can stand the most punishment. She was working them slowly and very deliberately.

Suddenly she’d stopped.

She walked up close to me and bent down. Her voice was icy, “That was just the warm-up.”

I could hear her stilettos hitting the floor as she moved back in forth doing I don’t know what. Admiring her work? I was wondering what the hard part would be.

Then I found out. It hadn’t registered that she’d only been using her heel. She hadn’t kicked me once.

Now she did. The tip of her boot moved up only a fraction of an inch with each blow as if to make sure not a centimeter of flesh was missed. And the strength of her kicks varies. Several by no means soft but followed by a few unequivocally hard.

If I hadn’t been gagged I’d have welcome the relief of screaming; the pain begin to creep past my limit.