Creating Little Chloe (My Little World Book 8)

by Becca Little

  “Honey, I’m home.” He said with the same sarcastic tone he always used.

  “Happy Anniversary!” I said as I embraced him.

  “You’re a little undressed aren’t you?” His fingers started to explore my exposed flesh.

  “I’ll get ready while you’re showering. So what did you get me this year? It is going to have to be big if it is going to top a house...” I winked at him.

  “Sit down, let’s talk for a minute.” His tone was flat, which made me worry. I sat down in a chair and he took a seat on the couch across from me.

  “What’s up?” I asked as he tapped the edge of the sofa with his fingers.

  “Your mother called me at work today...” He looked me in the eyes and my heart sank.

  “Oh no...” I felt the color draining out of my face.

  “Apparently, she’s concerned that we haven’t provided her with any grandchildren—at least two of them to be precise. She wanted to know if I should talk with your father about where I’m supposed to be...” I held my hand up before he could finish.

  “Tell me she didn’t.” I tensed up in terror and disgust.

  “That was just one of her many solutions. She mentioned doctors, adoptions, and went one for at least ten minutes about the starving children in China who need homes. She even asked if I was too old to have children.” His tone seemed to get more agitated as he spoke.

  “Stephen, I am so sorry. You know my mother can be quite crazy.” I shook my head back and forth.

  “Well, I’m less concerned about her and more concerned about you. You told me that you had this conversation with her two years ago and she understood that we weren’t ready for children.” He leaned back against the cushion and tilted his head. “Did you lie to me?”

  “I tried! I swear! She’s a religious nut! She thinks birth control was invented by devil worshipers to promote premarital sex!” I rambled and started to mumble. “I’ll call her right now.”

  “That isn’t necessary. I set her straight once she finished her diatribe.” He stood up and reached for my hand.

  “She must think you’re the devil incarnate, now...” I looked up at him, and already knew what was coming. I extended my hand to his.

  “Maybe, but at least I didn’t tell her a bold faced lie. You’ve been lying to her for years now, and to me. Do I need to tell you how much trouble you’re in?” He took my hand tightly.

  “No sir...” I said with a whimper.

  “I didn’t think so. As for your anniversary present, well I picked up something on the way home.” He reached into the back of his coat and pulled out an oval wooden paddle that was apparently stuffed handle first into his belt.

  “Oh no...” It was thick and rounded enough to cover one whole side of my bottom with a single swat. The handle was long enough for him to easily grip.

  “Let’s go upstairs.” He walked me upstairs to our bedroom and closed the door. “Remove your panties.”

  “Yes sir.” I said and pushed them down to the floor.

  He took a seat on the bed and I walked over to him. He guided me across his knee and positioned me so that my bottom was underneath the paddle. It was cool to the touch when he tapped it on my bottom, but I knew that would not last long. The first crack met my eardrums before my brain processed the sting, but it didn’t take long for them to come in unison each time the paddle came down on my bottom. The sting was much different than his hand and the wide surface covered a lot more flesh than it did. It had my little toes curled and my feet kicking after less than ten swats on my unprotected bare bottom. The agony was intense and it came on fast. I would have much rather had another session with his hand than my new anniversary present. Some present it was! The year before, I had gotten a house to go with my spanking. I knew the paddle surely wasn’t the only thing he had planned for my anniversary, but the lavish gift I would have received before he found out about my lies was the furthest thing from my mind as the pain consumed me. I had tried so hard to be good, so hard to be his submissive wife, yet there I was again across his knee getting my bottom paddled like a little girl. My bottom bounced with each swat, and was right back in place for the next sting by the time he got one stiff smack on the other side. I tried to hold my position, not wanting to feel what the paddle would do if I didn’t, but it wasn’t long until that reality came calling my name.

  “You didn’t learn not to fight after last time?” He asked harshly as the paddle came down five times in the center of my bottom.

  “Oww! Ouch! It is hard to stay still! It hurts!” I squirmed into place and stopped moving.

  “Telling lies hurts.” He said as he gave me five more hard smacks in the delicate center part of my bottom.

  “I know! I’m sorry!” I squealed as he resumed going back and forth across my bottom.

  “Your poor mother has been worried sick that you had some disease, or I was an impotent husband who couldn’t satisfy your needs.” He growled as he yanked me by the hair, turning my face to his. “Do you know how humiliating that is?”

  “Yes sir, I’m so sorry...” He let my hair go and continued to paddle me.

  “You’re going to be sorry alright.” He gripped me by the ribs and really started to drive his point home.

  My lies were not malicious, but I realized they were harmful none the less. I never intended for any of it to blow back on Stephen, I just didn’t want to deal with the impact of my mother finding out I wasn’t actively working on her future grandchild, and purposefully avoiding it with birth control. I should have known better. It was all she talked about at family functions, but never directly in front of Stephen. She had to really be worried if she went to him. Now she knew the truth and that reality probably shattered the thin fragment of sanity she had left. As much as I worried about that, I had to worry more about my bottom which was celebrating a second anniversary over Stephen’s knee while we celebrated our third together. The paddle quickly bounced from one side of my bottom to the other, sending currents of agony through me. He was the kindest, gentlest man I had ever known, but he truly was a dominant man who wanted me to be a good, submissive wife. My hand started to wander and he caught it before it could ever get to the point of protecting me. He held the hand aloft, keeping it out of the way while he continued to paddle me. I felt helpless and there was nothing I could do to turn that around. I had felt my breaking point once, and even though the anguish washed over me like an ocean of torment, I knew I wasn’t there yet. There was still suffering for me to endure. The tears were already there; they fogged my vision as I whimpered and squalled.

  “Are you going to lie again?” He asked, continuing to make the paddle crack against my bare flesh.

  “No sir, never again, I swear!” I was sure the lesson was learned, but he didn’t seem convinced. He simply gave me an audible scoff and paddled me even harder.

  A sob erupted from my throat. The tears came like waterfalls pouring straight from my soul. I lost focus of everything except for the torrent of pain I was experiencing. My eardrums beat the cracking sound of the paddle on my bare flesh like a snare drum, and my howls filled the room. I knew I was wrong—I knew I was horrible—I just wanted to be forgiven. I wanted my husband to love me again or at least show me that he hadn’t lost it over my devious deception. For over three years he had held my heart, and for the three we had been married, he had been the only thing that mattered. I let the paddle and my tears wash it away, knowing that when I was done, I would be forgiven. I felt my breaking point coming. The paddle continued to pound my bottom relentlessly, pushing me closer and closer until it finally happened. My body went weak and I slumped over. The quilt that had been clutched in my free hand was released and the color slowly returned to my whitewashed knuckle. He continued to paddle me, letting me feel the breaking point extended until there was simply nothing left inside. I heard the paddle land on the nightstand and it took me a moment to realize I was no longer being paddled. My bottom radiated heat and the burning
sensation was so bad it felt like I was still being paddled. I lay there without moving for a while until I finally pushed myself up slightly and he helped me the rest of the way. I clung tightly to him, still sobbing into his shoulder, just like the last time I was punished.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a horrible wife.” I said through my tears.

  “You’re not a horrible wife.” He whispered gently into my ear.

  “I just want to live up to your expectations...” There was melancholy in my words—I felt like a failure.

  “You do, and you always have. I understand that you will falter at times, but it is my duty as your husband to help you see the mistakes, and to help you overcome them.” He held me tightly, running his fingers through my hair, which had become soaked with my tears.

  “I don’t know if I can go to dinner...” I looked at my face in the mirror.

  “Yes you can. I’m going to shower, and when I’m done, you’re going to put yourself back together. You’re going to face the world as my wife, and walk by my side where you belong.” He gently placed me onto the bed.

  “Okay...” I wasn’t sure I could manage, but I was willing to try it for him.

  He undressed while I watched out of the corner of my eye. Even though I was still in agony, I couldn’t help but feel a tingle in my midsection that quickly spread between my legs as I watched him expose his muscular upper torso and toss his shirt into the laundry hamper. I loved everything about Stephen Crane, even the way he punished me. He was such a good man, a loving husband, and very old fashioned. Living every day as his wife was an honor, even if it was unconventional. I was always taken care of, and I never had to work. He had provided me with everything because he loved me and he wanted me. All he asked was that I be a good submissive wife who knew her place, and I had failed at that, despite my best intentions. I swore to myself that I would be better. He stripped off his pants and boxers, turning around to face me with his huge cock hanging loose between his legs. I wanted to spread my legs and beg for it, but I knew we were going to be running late for dinner because he had to take time to punish me. He gazed at me and I could tell he wanted me as bad as I wanted him. His cock slightly pulsated and I knew it was hungry for me. I hoped what I had done had not robbed me of the opportunity to have it before the end of the night, even if we couldn’t tear into each other at that moment. I was weak, and I would have hardly been a good lover, but I would have certainly tried. He finally spared me the debate in my head by walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. I rolled over to the other side, grimacing as the sheets touched my punished bottom, just so I could see his naked for step into the shower. The door wasn’t clear, but it wasn’t opaque enough to completely hide the amazing form of the man I loved.

  “Soon, darling...” I let a smile cross my face.

  When he was done with his shower, he dried off outside of my direct vision, but the mirror on the bathroom wall gave me enough of a view to stay horny. The steam which accumulated on it wasn’t enough to keep him completely hidden. I pulled myself out of bed and removed my bra, which was the last thing I had on my body. He walked out of the bathroom and I grazed his cock with my hand, resulting in a hard smack on my bottom which caused me to howl and dance the rest of the way into the bathroom. Normally that would have been okay, but he knew how wrecked I was. I shot him an angry glare, but all he did was laugh at me. He started to dress as I turned on the shower, making sure it was a lot cooler than his was. I grabbed the tools I needed to remove my makeup and slid into what basically amounted to ice water was pouring from the faucet. I used it to cool my bottom and then turned up the heat so I could clean myself. It took me a little more time than usual to completely get it removed because it was caked with tears, but I finally did wipe my face clean. I turned off the shower and looked over to the bed where I saw him stroking his erection, staring at my naked body. I gave him a glare and started to dry myself off. I briefly considered slamming the door, but I knew it wasn’t my place to deny him the opportunity to look at my body. I just hoped he didn’t finish and saved it for me. I reconstructed my makeup, dried my hair, and walked out of the bathroom wearing my towel.

  “Where are we going for dinner, anyway?” I asked.

  “Fuck dinner...” He reached for my hand and pulled me towards him. “All I want right now is you.”

  “Won’t we be late?” I asked as I felt him hard against my leg.

  “Do you care?” He ran his fingers up my leg and squeezed it tightly.

  “No...” I said in a slight whisper. “I don’t care at all.”

  He pulled my leg over his hips and I felt the tip of his cock against my pussy. My punished bottom radiated almost as much heat as the sizzle between us. Three years and we still wanted each other like the very first day. Dinner would have to wait, but I hardly cared. He slipped the head of his cock into the crevice of my pussy, directly against the clitoris. I sighed as I rolled forward, pressing both palms to his muscled abs, and lowering myself onto him slowly. He wasn’t in the mood for slow. He grabbed me tightly by the hips, four fingers on each hand digging into the punished flesh on my bottom, and snapped me down with force. My knees buckled and his cock went all the way in. I moaned at the shock of penetration and then started to adjust. He lifted and slammed me down, barely even giving me a chance to lift up before he yanked me down again. My pussy slammed into his pelvis, each impact stimulating my clitoris. He lifted his hips with every descent, so hard that I felt his balls wrap around and crash into my labia. I was completely at his mercy, but enjoying every second of it. He rarely let me ride him, instead preferring to be the one on top, but it didn’t seem to matter much. He was in control whether he was mounted between my legs or throwing me around on top like a rag doll. I was so consumed by pleasure that I couldn’t do anything but rise and fall against his motions.

  “You feel so good...” I said with a whimpering moan.

  “I’m going to fuck you like I own you.” He said with a grunt as he picked up the pace.

  “You do...” I said with another moan. “I belong to you.”

  “Damn right you do.” He brought his hand down on my bottom again.

  “Oww!” I said with a squeal. “That wasn’t very nice!”

  He didn’t respond, he just continued to drive his cock between my thighs. I tried to lift myself as often as I could, to push myself up even higher on his cock before he brought me down, but I only went as far as he allowed. Each time I slid down his shaft, he pulsated against my g-spot and sent waves of pleasure through my body. He finally started to tire a little, and I felt like I had some slight semblance of control. His hands remained on my hips, but they didn’t squeeze like they were before. I leaned back, bracing myself against his strong thighs with my fingers, and then started to ride his cock, pushing back and sliding forward each time. After a few long strokes, he started to run his fingers up my body, squeezing and touching me. He squeezed both nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them as I rode him. My tired muscles, which were still exhausted from the paddling, started to slightly spasm, so I fell forward. I came down on his cock so hard that it nearly sent me straight into an orgasm. I balanced on his abdominal muscles with my palms once more, and started to slowly rise up. His body was starting to tighten and I knew it wasn’t going to be a marathon session. Sometimes he would fuck me for half the night before he blew his load, but his body language suggested he was getting close. My body was even closer, to the point that I had to slow myself in order to avoid it.

  “Don’t hold back.” He gripped my hips again, squeezing my bottom.

  “I...” I whimpered. “I want to cum with you...”

  “Then don’t hold back.” He said harshly and his body rolled forward. He was a lot closer than I thought.

  I let the fight slowly slip away. I was his to maneuver, his to control, and his to fuck. He lifted me up and started to bring his hips into mine like a hammer, capped off by the pulsating head of his cock which s
welled against my tight vaginal wall. I could tell it was going to be a very explosive orgasm on my end. Perhaps the time I spent over his knee with the paddle teaching me a lesson had somehow added to the pleasure, or perhaps it was just the love I felt for him, but I was practically hypnotized by his touch. Had I not been so enthralled in our mutual passion, I would have felt paralyzed and unable to move as the orgasm gripped me from within. My pussy tightened on his cock and my clitoris tensed up, feeling the impact of his pelvis grinding on it with every thrust. Three more quick thrusts followed, and then he paused there, holding me tightly pressed against his groin. I felt his cum surge out and it set off a powerful orgasm inside of me. I nearly yelled his name, completely engulfed in the moment. I orgasmed as his cum filled my pussy, squeezing it with my tightness, trying to milk every drop from within in. After what seemed like an eternity with us locked in that moment, he finally started to release some of the tension and sink back into the bed. I fell with him, wrapped in his arms, but never separating from his cock. My mind spun with ecstasy, and I didn’t want to move from that moment as long as I lived.