I found Heaven...at the end of a leather belt.

We had the house to ourselves last night, as usual we were relaxing in the bedroom watching some TV. Musicman typically sits on the lounge, while I curl up on the bed. We have a king size water bed and I have a habit of making a nest for myself with the comforter and curling up in it.

It was early yet and we were in the middle of watching a program, so I was somewhat surprised when he came over and sat next to me on the bed. He had a question for me, "where's this new implement?'

"Ummm...tucked under the edge of the bed."

From where he was sitting, he didn't even have to get up, just reach down and there it was. Well, actually there were two of them. Once I had measured and cut down the belt, I was left with a longer piece. I didn't get rid of it, because I thought it would be better to let him pick which one he preferred. Turns out he preferred the longer one, though he did fold it over.

That gave me pause for a moment when I saw him fold it, but only for a moment. I just laid there, curled up in my nest, watching him as he worked with the belt, folding it, creasing it, adjusting his grip until it was the way he wanted. When he turned to face me, I didn't move, or do anything. I just laid there staring at him as he stood looking back at me.

He never said a word, just reached into my nest, removing my fleece pants and turning me over all at the same time. I ended up with my face buried in the comforter and my now naked ass up in the air. He was standing right at the edge of the bed. He grabbed both my feet and wedged them in between his legs. I was very effectively immobilized.

He didn't give me even a moment to think, which is good, no time to anticipate or panic. The strap fell quickly and repeatedly, such a nice sting, followed by that lovely warmth. He spent some amount of time attending to my backside and thighs. I was very quickly lost in subspace, squirming into the strap and begging for more.

The combination of knowing I was conquering a fear, along with the feel of the leather was intoxicating. I've orgasmed before just from spanking, but not as fast as I did last night. I hadn't even realized that he'd released my legs when he started to tap at my lady parts with the belt. That's usually all the direction I need to adjust position and open my legs. I must have been a bit slower then usual, cause it finally penetrated my haze when I heard him say, "spread'em". Of course, I did, I always do exactly what I'm directed to do when I'm in that head space.

I love having the lady parts spanked and this was no exception. He'd alternate between swatting my ass and my pussy. I love that, cause I never know where the next blow will strike. The anticipation is as powerful as the actual connection of implement to skin for me. I was soon exploding again, my own juices now flowing down my thighs.

I was still in position, kneeling, legs spread, when he reached for my ponytail and pulled me up and back against him. His hand left my hair and firmly encircled my throat holding me in place. He gave each of my breasts a few swats with the belt, then I moaned as his hand left my throat. It was just for a moment, long enough to pull my shirt up, then it was back. Holding me in place and comforting me all at the same time. He started in again on my breasts and this time alternated between them and the lady parts.

The only thing I remember from then on is the all over tingling in my body and the complete and utter feeling of being owned. That irrefutable knowledge, that my body is no longer my own. I knew, without a doubt, I belonged to him and he could and would, use me anyway he saw fit. I don't know how many times more I came before he released me and guided me as I sunk back down onto the bed.

I lay there limply, unable to even think. It barely registered that he had gotten into the bed next to me, until he started to position me again. Still face down, one leg over his lap, the other pushed as far open as it would go. The man gives a new meaning to the word torture, for torture me he did. Hands everywhere, spanking and rubbing and invading me into orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Barely letting me catch my breath after each one before starting the drive up to that glorious peak again.

There was much more that happened after, but all I really remember is, I found heaven, at the end of a leather belt.

Implement of Change

As with most people in this lifestyle, we have accrued a few implements. Not many, but a few. One of the implements I hear many talk about is the belt. I've been pretty open about the fact that I have no interest in it. It carries lots of bad memories for me and I feel no need to change that.

I don't get a rush when I hear Musicman take his belt off. Even reading others talk about it sometimes squicks me out. Not using a belt is not a problem for Musicman, he understands me better then I understand myself most of the time. An interesting phenomenon has been occurring that is starting to change that view. It has happened quite organically too.

Musicman works at a job where he gets quite dirty. It's his habit to change clothes as soon as he gets home. If he's had an especially strenuous day he will change before he even lets me kiss him hello. He says he doesn't want to get the grime on me. Honestly, I don't care if he does, but he insists, so I wait for him to change clothes.

The lounge we often play on is in the corner of our room, next to his dresser. He empties his pockets onto the dresser and always removes his belt and lays it on the lounge. Can ya guess where this is going? Yep, sometimes during playtime, when I'm bent over that lounge, I spot it. Such an innocent thing, just laying there, no harm in that whatsoever.

The first few times it happened I felt a moment of panic and snapped my eyes tightly shut. Inevitably though, they would open again. There it was, still laying there, causing no harm to anyone. After awhile, I got to a point where it didn't bother me anymore when I my eyes landed on it. It's just an innocuous piece of leather afterall.

Then something changed. The last few times we played on the lounge, it was still there, it hadn't changed at all. What did change was how I felt about it. I wanted it, wanted him to use it. All of a sudden, I wasn't afraid of it anymore. At least, in that moment I wasn't afraid.

I haven't mentioned this to Musicman, yet. I wasn't entirely sure I was ready for it. I thought a lot about what it is that frightens me so much about it. What triggers those bad memories and ways to eliminate them. I realized that the sound of the buckle terrifies me, so does the sound of leather hitting leather when the belt is doubled back on itself. I don't want to hear those things. Just thinking about them now, as I type this, makes me feel a little sick.

But, I see a way to overcome the fear, to put the bad memories to rest. I see a way to broaden my horizons and experience the feel of leather. I do love the leather paddle we have, I thought maybe that would be enough. But, now that I see a way to conquer the fear and vanquish the demons, I couldn't let it go.

I took a belt of Musicman's that he never uses, he doesn't like the buckle. Good thing since I removed the buckle. I also measured it and cut it down so it could be used easily without doubling it over. I tucked it away, intending to give it to him on New Year's Eve or New Year's Day. Unfortunately, we've had no privacy to play, so it remains tucked away.

The more time passes and we are unable to use it, the more I want to bring it out and give it a try. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that this could be the answer. This could vanquish those demons that still haunt me when I least suspect it. This is the next step forward for me in living my life out from under the shadow of abuse. It's a step I'm ready to take.