by Becca Little
“Oh my god…” I said with a grunt. I leaned in and bit down on his shoulder.
“I can’t wait to bury my cock in your orgasm.” He said as I reached the pinnacle.
All I could do was shake and quiver against the wall. I was completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but experience the peak. He never stopped working his finger in and out of me, and never stopped massaging my g-spot. It wasn’t fair at all. He knew how sensitive I was after my first orgasm, and how much it took my breath away. Instead of letting me rest and fill my lungs with oxygen, he simply continued to stimulate me. I practically hyperventilated on the fervor of his touch as another orgasm began. My mouth fell open on his shoulder and I just lay there in exhaustion as he drove the point home again. My body rocked back and I orgasmed again. The second one was even more intense, and I struggled to beg for a break, but I couldn’t get the words out. He didn’t stop—my god, he didn’t stop. I didn’t think I could even force another one out, but he yanked it out of me without even changing what he was doing. My whole body was burning up, a thin layer of sweat covering me from head to toe. I slumped on him as dead weight and my eyes closed tight. There was no fight left in me, but my body refused to help me stop the torment. He held me there and forced another and another until I was mentally screaming for it to end. When he finally removed his finger from my dripping pussy, my legs felt like jelly and my arms felt like they were permanently paralyzed. He held me tight against his chest and walked me to the bed.
“You’re a monster…” I whispered as I fell back onto the sheets.
“Oh I’m not done with you, not by a long shot. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you deny me what I want.” He stripped his clothes off and lifted my legs.
“I’m sorry…” I said with an authentic shake of my head, which was all I could move.
“Now I’m going to really torture you.” He pressed the head of his cock against my pussy.
“I know…” I braced for penetration as he slipped himself inside of me.
Truly, it was the best kind of torture one could ever receive. I regretted not talking dirty to him and giving him the phone sex he wanted, because he was hungrier than I realized. His cock was harder than the first time I felt it, and swollen with the red heat of his desire. Despite losing count of the orgasms I got against the wall, my body reacted to the slow methodical pace, gearing up for another one. I mentally swore never to deny him again, always to be willing to satisfy his yearning, even if it meant I had to do it over the phone while he pleasured himself. I certainly wasn’t going to complain about the thunder of his body between my thighs, but it truly was a mixture of torture and never ending pleasure. I felt like I was drunk on his savage urge, yearning for more. My mind said I was done and had nothing left, yet my body begged for more, rising up to meet every single thrust. I made up for a whole week of missed orgasms and then some before I even felt the first surge of cum explode from the head of his cock and drive me to another orgasm. I knew that it was far from over, because he never stopped after the first. He always kept going, always kept thrusting, and his cock always reacted quickly to his need for another one. As energy returned to my limbs, I wrapped my arms around his back and held him as he fucked me. The combination of my orgasm and his cum gave him a pussy unable to resist his cock.
“I can’t take anymore…” I said with a weak whimper.
“Yes you can.” He picked up the pace. “You’ll take it until I’m so limp I can’t fuck you anymore.”
I was completely drained, but he was far from being spent. I verbally reciprocated his lust with a moan of my own once my body settled down and then reignited. I had no idea what my limitation was because I had never reached it before. I certainly thought I had, but clearly I was mistaken. He pounded me so hard the bed shook and the headboard slammed into the walls. The neighbors probably thought an earthquake was rolling through the streets of Manhattan because there was certainly one in his loins. My pussy was practically numb, but I felt his cock throbbing and pulsating inside of me. I knew he was about to go again, so I tightened it the best I could to hopefully milk the last drop from him. That was the only way I was going to get a moment to breathe. The slammed his hips into my pelvis and deposited another thunderous load. I let an actual scream roar from my throat as my body reacted again. I prayed for it to be done, but I also prayed for another one, because I was simply melded into my orgasm. I felt more connected to my husband and our love than I ever had before, but I still felt sapped. His exhausted breaths confirmed he was almost done, but he still pushed until another small knot of cum shot out of him and then I felt him starting to wane. He slid himself out of me slowly, and then collapsed beside me in bed. I opened my eyes slightly, marveling at the sweat glistening on his perfectly tanned, muscular frame.
“Happy Anniversary…” He said as his lips lightly formed a smile.
“You too…” It was all I could force out of my dry, exhausted throat.
I slept there like it was the middle of the night, despite the fact sunlight covered our naked bodies. The last sound I remembered was his gentle snore, a sign that he was as exhausted as I was. I felt completely wasted when I woke up, like I had went to bed with the worst hangover and woke up with it covering my whole body. I reached out to find a warm spot where he had been, proof that what happened was not just the imagination of a woman who hadn’t seen her husband in a week. The sweat had left a chill, so I pulled a sheet around me as I sat up. I found him sitting in a chair at the edge of the bed, watching me. He was still naked, but a cigar was perched between his fingers. He smiled and pulled it to his lips, taking a long drag before a stream of smoke poured out of them. They were a present from our wedding, a whole box someone from his office smuggled from Cuba on a trip. He had barely touched them, except when he had a reason to celebrate. Apparently, fucking me like a beast was reason enough. I blinked my eyes a few times to get acclimated with the light and then rubbed away the last remnants of sleep.
“So, can I tell you my good news now?” He asked casually.
“Of course…” I turned my full attention to him.
“At the management seminar, they announced a new assistant vice president for the New York office—me.” He practically glowed with excitement.
“Stephen, that’s wonderful!” I scurried out of the sheet and off of the bed, hugging him. I fell into his lap and he held me close.
“Are you ready for your anniversary present?” He asked.
“Yes! You should have given it to me before you left!” I argued with a friendly scowl on my face.
“You’ll see why I couldn’t when you get dressed. We have to go pick it up.” He stood up and dropped me on the bed, placing his cigar in his mouth.
“Did you shower?” I asked as he reached for his pants.
“Yes, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine with your tussled hair.” He smirked and slid on a shirt.
It was more than tussled, it was a hot mess. I brushed it out the best I could as I slipped on a pair of panties and a bra. He was already impatient in the other room, but I had to at least look like I wasn’t doing the walk of shame. Granted, the glow he left on me after the way he fucked me was enough to silence any critics. When I was finally presentable with a fresh coat of makeup on my face, we walked downstairs to his car. The look from our neighbors made me blush, and I knew they were well aware of what had happened inside our apartment hours before. We drove out of the city and into a suburb, which made me question exactly what kind of gift I was going to get. My questions were answered, or at least I formed my own conclusion, when he pulled up in front of a magnificent house at the end of a cul-de-sac. One look in his direction confirmed what I was thinking, and he dug a key out of his pocket. I didn’t even have words. I wanted a home more than anything else in the world, especially one where I didn’t have to hear the sounds of the city beating against our windows every night. I pushed the car door open with an excited squeal and ran towards the door
with the key in hand. He followed behind me and scooped me up moments before I could walk inside.
“You almost didn’t let me carry you over the threshold.” He said with a friendly, agitated laugh.
“Sorry, I was a little excited!” I leapt from his arms the second we were officially inside.
It was everything I hoped for and more. Five glorious bedrooms adorned the upstairs, and the ground level was a vast open canvas I could paint with whatever furniture I chose. There was certainly going to be a lot of shopping to fill my days from that point forward. The living room already had a set of furniture in it, which I assumed was just there to model the home and show prospective buyers how it could look. Once I had looked the whole house over a dozen times and planned what I wanted in every nook and cranny, I returned to the living room to find him sitting on the couch. I walked over and joined him, a smile permanently stretched across my face. I couldn’t believe he had made my dreams come true. I snuggled up next to him and stared at the cardboard cutout of a television slipped into the wooden entertainment center. I imagined us there, with a fire roaring in the fireplace, and old movies playing. I could already picture where the Christmas tree would go, right in front of the gigantic window which overlooked the road. We finally had a home—a real home. One that we could grow old in together... I let out a sigh of bliss and looked over at him.
“Thank you so much for this…” I moved closer. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Julie.” He put his arm around me. “Do you remember what I said to you on our wedding night?”
“Something about eternal love, joy, all that?” Truthfully, it was all kind of a blur after the emotion of the day.
“I said I would take care of you, and that you would never have to work a day in your life, but what I wanted in return was absolute submission.” As he said the words, I remembered them. He had actually said them to me shortly after we got engaged, and again on our wedding night.
“I do remember that. I agreed to them then and I agree to them now. I’m perfectly fine with you being the head of the household and making the important decisions. I know you only have my best interest in mind.” I looked into his eyes and nodded.
“I have our best interests in mind.” He corrected me with a stern look. “It goes deeper than that though, Julie. I am a man with many desires, and when I want something, I expect it. I’m not used to being told no.”
“When have I ever told you no?” I tilted my head in confusion.
“Last night.” He said as he pursed his lips into a flat line. “Last night you refused to do what I asked.”
“I just wanted us to feel it together…” I hugged him closer. “I wanted the emotional connection.”
“To put it bluntly, I just wanted to cum. I wanted you to help me with that. I really didn’t think it was much to ask at all.” His tone suggested that he was very serious about what he said which caused me to pull away and look at him in concern.
“I’m sorry…” I looked down at the edge of the sofa and rolled it around nervously in my fingers. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”
“That isn’t the point. The point is that a submissive wife does what her husband asks. She doesn’t question his motives, she simply obeys.” He straightened himself on the couch.
“I really didn’t think it was fair for you to enjoy yourself without me there.” I admitted with a sigh. “Lesson learned…”
“Then you understand that I have to punish you for your lack of obedience?” He lifted my chin with the edge of his knuckle until his eyes were locked on mine.
“Punish me?” I felt a sense of a dread swarming over me. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to give you a spanking.” He said as he reached for my wrist.
“What? A spanking? No!” I pulled away and shook my head.
“You have to understand that failing to obey me and denying me what I want comes with consequences. Truthfully, I’ve put up with your bratty behavior for two years now without correcting it, but that is going to have to change.” He continued reaching for me until he had my wrist in his hand.
“I’ll be good, I promise. I will never deny you again.” My promises fell on deaf ears as he pulled me across his lap.
“I know.” He said as his hands slipped under my dress and pulled it up around my waist. “But that doesn’t change the fact you did, and for that, I have to punish you.”
“Please don’t…” I whimpered as his hands wrapped around my panties and pushed them to my knees.
He didn’t respond, instead I felt his hand come down hard in the center of my bottom. I hadn’t had my bottom reddened since I was a little girl and my father taught me not to put candy in my pocket at the supermarket. I only needed one trip across his knee to learn that lesson, and I was fairly certain I would only need one across my husband’s knee to learn how to be a good submissive wife. His hand moved from one side of my bottom to the other, leaving a resonating sting behind each time he did. I had heard his words when he said them both times, but they had gone in one ear and out the other. I thought they were just professions of love and I didn’t realize those words actually carried weight. I loved Stephen, and he had done an amazing job helping us build a life. I hated being a disappointment to him. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine he would spank me when I failed to obey him. I kicked my feet several times as he punished me with the palm of his hand, regretting my decision not to help him the night before. Had I realized what the result would be, I would have said every dirty thing I could think of until every drop of cum was drained from his cock. I whimpered and whined as the rhythm of his hand echoed throughout our new home. I was thankful we didn’t have any neighbors there to hear my comeuppance, because I was certain the walls of our apartment would not have been able to contain the sound of my spanking.
“Oww! I’m sorry, Stephen!” I continued to kick my feet until he repositioned me and brought his leg across the back of them.
“The more you fight, the harder is it going to be.” He brought his hand down three times in the center of my bottom to accentuate his point.
“Yes sir…” I whimpered and stopped my flailing.
I couldn’t believe I had called him sir, just like I was a little girl in trouble, but it was exactly how I felt. Stephen was strong enough to hold me in place whether I stopped fighting or not, but I didn’t want to invite more punishment than I had already earned. His hand returned to the rhythmic spanking, moving from one side to the other, although he occasionally landed two in a row on the same spot, which caused me to arch my back and squeal. I had underestimated his tolerance for my bratty behavior, and I thought it was all unnoticed, but it was clear that I had just been slowly building up to an inevitable trip across his knee. I started to slip, even with his leg across the back of my thighs, so he paused to pull me back into position. He lifted his knee underneath my hips, pushing my bottom out to greet his hand with more enthusiasm than I could have ever mustered. The stinging sensation was building, getting worse with each passing second. Even though I tried to hold still, my body involuntarily contorted to try and avoid his palm, but he quickly put be back in place, giving me three in the center of my bottom to remind me where I belonged. I wasn’t mad, or angry with him for spanking me, but I still wanted it to end. I fought the urges building within me until I simply could not take anymore. I threw my hand back in desperation, pleading for him to stop.
“Please, I can’t take anymore…” I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
“You said that earlier today. You were wrong then and you’re wrong now.” He slipped his hand around my wrist and pulled the offending hand away, bringing his hand down five times in the center of my bottom.
“Oww!!!” I squealed and squirmed around as the pain erupted.
“This spanking will be over when I feel like you have learned your lesson.” He said as five more landed.
“Okay, I’m sorry!” I wailed and felt tears
rolling down my face.
I gained a new respect for my husband as he blistered my bottom, not slowing down at all. His hand seemed to always know exactly where I didn’t want it to land, because it found that mark every time. The spanking got faster, more intense, and erratic. He alternated between one smack and three smacks, going from one side of my bottom to the other as I sobbed. The stinging sensation became a constant burning fire, and then a raging inferno. I cried more than I had ever cried in my life, all of my emotions pouring out into the fabric of the couch. All I wanted to do was be the best submissive wife I could be, never disappointing him, and never earning myself another trip across his knee. I loved him with all of my heart, and I would have never disappointed him in a million years had I understood the consequence. He was right about me being able to take more. My breaking point wasn’t felt until well past the point I begged for him to stop. When it finally came, I was completely limp across his knee, wailing and sobbing for forgiveness. When he felt me break, he slowed down and landed a few more very hard smacks before stopping. I didn’t move. I simply stayed in position and cried. He let the tears subside before he finally lifted me up and held me close to him. His embrace was exactly what I needed in that moment. I clenched his shirt with both hands and cried on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll never disappoint you again.” I made an authentic promise, one that I truly meant.
“This will make us closer than we already are.” He stroked my hair gently. “Everything is forgiven.”
I knew he was right. The guilt I felt as he spoke to me before he put me over his knee was gone. I knew I had earned the spanking and earned his forgiveness. I was even able to forgive myself. The ride back to our apartment was uncomfortable as every bump reignited the fire he spread across my bottom. When we got back, I was emotionally drained. He fixed me a bowl of soup and then I went to bed. The next day, it was like nothing had happened, but I knew I was changed. I no longer looked at Stephen as a man I could bully or tease. I saw him as a dominant force, one that ruled over me. Our passion was still as hot and heavy as it always had been. Nothing changed in that regard. After a few weeks of planning, we moved into the house and I started to fill it up with the things I imagined during my first tour. Stephen’s new job basically meant there was no limit on what I could spend, although I still cleared the purchases with him before I swiped my card at the counter. With a kitchen and a dining room fit for a royal family, I was able to start cooking dinner each night. That was fairly difficult in our small apartment, so we spent a lot of time eating from cans and boxes. My mother sent me a copy of our family cookbook and I had fun recreating and tweaking some of her famous dishes. By the time our third anniversary rolled around, I had mostly forgotten about my one trip over his knee. I was too consumed with being the submissive wife he loved.