Short erotic story: a man spanks and fucks his submissive wife.
“…She’s mine: the acceptance of my collar is the acceptance of my domination. Her eyes swam with excitement the day I first fastened it: savouring the symbol of her submission as she stared lovingly into my eyes. A new connection between us, a new bind holding us tightly. A powerful, never-ending commitment to each other….”
A girl seeks to stop her arousal from becoming public.
“…The toy squealed and hummed, barely audible over the noise of the train as her month-long horniness boiled angrily inside of her. I watched her writhe and squirm, bouncing on the heels of her boots as her breathing became ragged…”
She thought I’d leave her if she cheated. I signed my first submissive slave contract that day to renounce any claims of adultery. She met an acquaintance later that week, tied me to the chair to listen from another room as her anonymous lover fucked her wildly and noisily for what felt like hours. Her screams and cries, punctured by loud orgasms and desperate wails drove my imagination wild as my ears strained, anxious to hear every last detail from their tryst.
In truth, I wanted him to. The confused squeals and unmistakeable grunts from the room piqued my curiosity. I could never admit it to my team-mates, but at that moment I was intrigued as to what buggery would feel like. I needed to know.
My mouth welcomed the victor, sliding his warm, firm cock between my lips. I sucked; I’d practised on my girlfriends dildo as we knew the rule changes in the league for this year, but nothing prepared me for the real thing. I licked the soft ridges as his foreskin slid back and his glans became exposed, sucking in his masculinity and swirling my tongue over his sensitive head.
They wanted me to fill her cunt with my seed, to stamp my victory on the opposing team, and to have her forever remember the day her boys lost to their greatest rivals. They wanted to see her struggle with the humiliation, yet love the feelings in her cunt as my cock had her mind drunk with lust.
I heard the rise in her voice as she hummed; the malevolence that dripped from her laugh as she powered the paddle against my abused rump again, and again, panting as she launched a full-on assault on my backside.
I had Rosie Marshall on my books and I had to try and get young Rosie through her probationary period without re-offending. I was told that this was impossible, and she was the reason there was a vacancy: the last probation officer quit. The one before that had a nervous breakdown, and the one before that tried to kill her. It was a long list of failures, but it was easy to see why.
She wanted to rile me; she wanted me to lose all control, trying to make me see red over her teasing and unleash a volley of spanks on her defenceless skin. She wanted pain, and she was about to get it.
“I’m going to slap that flesh. Hard. Give you the spanking you deserve, throwing my hand over your body and pelting it. I’m going to ignore your pleas for mercy and enjoy your cries. I’m going to spank you so hard, you won’t be able to sit down for a week without being reminded of your gluttonous indiscretions. I’m going to make you cry, which is going to make me fucking hard, as you beg for mercy.”
But for a moment, she was not interested in the bed; sliding the dress from her body and facing her new husband in her expensive white lingerie: she had never adorned such fine garments for their play before. His blue eyes undressed her further, imagining her smooth skin underneath her lacy panties or the succulent orbs hidden beneath the unwelcome straps.
This is for the prompt at Exhibit A’s Short Story competition – “The Suitcase.” While I was at Eroticon, I was recommended Thrill Seekers by Kristina Lloyd; I’m not saying my twisted psyche has been influenced by my new bedtime reading, but … 😉 The growl of the engine reverberated angrily in her small compartment; her …