My most heartfelt thanks

He bent me over the balcony railing, skin pressed against the rough concrete, heated up by the scorching tropical sun. I squirm uncomfortably, and he brings a towel to put under my shoulders, to protect me from scratching against the hot concrete. The balcony is facing the ocean, there is nothing but the mesmerizing turquoise blue with the white stripes of the waves. It's windy today, and the waves are loud, so is the music by the pool. No one can see us, but no doubt, the ocean and the music will not cover my screams. It's not polite to bother the neighbours, he says and offers me a washcloth to bite on.

I'm wearing nothing but a soaking wet bikini and fluffy hotel slippers, because the ceramic floor is too hot too. Comfortable is the name of the game, comfortable everywhere but. The wet bikini bottoms hit the floor with a splash. He folds my arms and tells me to keep them on the small of my back. 

I know what he's staring at, my new tan lines. Starved out for the sun in the midst of our dreadful winter with three-feet tall snowbanks, on the first day here we spent too much time on the beach, and I fell asleep on my stomach. Sleeping on my stomach is a second habit, you know. Besides, I was still sore from the whipping he gave me right before we left for the airport, a sound reminder to keep me on my best behavior while on vacation.

He traces my tan lines with his thumb, a white triangle surrounded by the pink of the burnt skin. In a few days my skin will get so dark that no one will notice the bruises. I bruise easily, but the red marks fade fast. There will be nothing to admire in the mirror tomorrow morning, unless he will add more. I wonder how much it will hurt on the sensitive burnt skin. He just lovingly rubbed my butt with the lotion. I heard the evil smirk, we both know the lotion only makes it hurt more.

We didn't bring any implements because, hello, airport security. We smuggled in a small plug. We decided to say that it's a ring holder, if the security asks. He joked, if I misbehave, I will fly back plugged. Have fun explaining that! Funny how all the hotels still have the landlines and phones in each room. He yanked the phone cord from the wall socket. The cord was long enough to fold in four and turn into a formidable but silent brat tamer. As much as he loves my witticisms, I could feel since morning that he was about to announce the inevitable. We were both itching to retreat to the room, so I can't say I didn't see it coming, if it was my own doing. 

Silent but vicious, only a few swift lashes, and my hands fly back to protect my poor bum from the onslaught. As always, he's quick enough to stop mid-air and not hit my fingers. But the bikini top comes off to securely tie my wrists. Another few, and I yelp, and the washcloth falls on the meticulously landscaped lawn underneath the balcony. Oops! We both burst into giggles, and instead of bringing another washcloth, he drags me inside the room. With my hands tied behind my back and those oversized hotel slippers, I stumble over the metal ledge, and he picks me up gleefully to carry over to bed. 

The balcony door shut, the ceiling fan turned on, hands untied, he commands me on all four and to take him in my mouth, the best silencer. I know he wants me to hold still, but with each stroke my muffled moans make him harder and harder. I arch my back and roll my hips back to meet the menacing cord, the same way as when he takes me from behind. 

Abruptly, he pulls out and lifts me up to lick my lips, to taste himself on me. He whispers the words of praise in my year, while pressing my head against his shoulder and rubbing my butt. We both shake, from the heat of the moment, from the need to give to each other what we crave the most, for him to give me this pain and for me to take it for him. He jumps off the bed, and I know that we're far from done. 

Head down, ass up, and plugged, I don't need a silencer any more, the moans are those of pleasure. Besides, he wants me to count the final fifteen, thanking him after each five. He slows down, taking a pause after each strike, letting me absorb the pain and get back in the position. And these thanks are the deepest, most meaningful and my most heartfelt thanks I ever gave.