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Teaching Karen a Lesson

"If having to deal with a 'Karen' is bad, try being married to one. My dysfunctional marriage is about to get even more so..."

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“What part of ‘I want to speak to your manager’ do you not understand?”

The waitress, who was already shrunk and folded into herself like a frightened turtle, took a step back. Her eyes were down at her fingers, nervously kneading another.

“Y-yes, ma’am. I-I understand it just; the manager isn’t here right now and—”

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” Erin balked loudly as she looked around at the other guests eating their meals as if they would or should be on her side of her complaints. I put a finger to my temple, clenching my teeth together as I always did. I didn’t know which to feel more: sorry for the waitress being berated for doing absolutely nothing wrong or embarrassed for my wife’s behavior.

I knew my wife was a bitch. Everyone knew my wife was a bitch. Over the last nine years of marriage, her attitude had progressed like a cancer spreading to the lymph nodes. Seldom did an hour go by when she was awake that she didn’t demean, berate, insult, or condescend to someone in her line of sight. Being married to the woman and not having kids meant I was her favorite target, but whenever we went in public, I found it worse when I was left to witness her wrath be placed on unsuspecting bystanders.

“This pasta is barely warm; the service you give me is subpar—just look how long I’ve been waiting for another glass of wine?” Erin continued on her assault.

“Ma’am, I told you we finished off that bottle and didn’t have another. I offered a different wine, but—”

“What kind of restaurant doesn’t keep multiple bottles stocked of wine? Are you kidding me?” Erin aimed an upturned nose in my direction. “What kind of place have you taken me to?”

I sighed and looked to the waitress, who was fighting back tears, “It’s fine, thank you,” I said, trying to dismiss her, but Erin had other plans.

“No, Dan. It’s not fine. Are you kidding me? I’m paying good money for this food, and this stupid girl can’t even bring my hot food.”

“Ma’am—” the waitress tried to speak but was bulldozed over.

“Don’t you, ma’am, me!” Erin turned in her seat and jabbed a finger at the waitress aggressively. It was a strange look, considering my wife was in an elegant black dress, and her large hoop earring bounced with every fast movement. In my mind, someone so beautiful shouldn’t be able to be that angry. “I swear to God, if you call me ma’am one more time, not only will I have you fired, but I will sue you! My sister’s a lawyer, and she would do it in a heartbeat!”

Mercifully, for my sake at least, the spectacle ended there because the waitress broke down into tears and ran back into the kitchen. The dozens of eyes watching slowly peeled away as the murmur returned to the Italian restaurant. Most of the hushed conversations were about my wife, no doubt.

“Can you believe the nerve of that girl?” Erin said as she turned her attention back to her pasta. The eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick she wore was like a sexy mask hiding the bitch who was my wife.

I sighed again, lost in a stare at the kitchen door. The waitress was in her early twenties—only five or so years younger than they were, and yet I felt a paternal concern for her. No one should be treated that way. Many have wondered, and a few had the guts to ask me why I put up with it or why I married her in the first place. I never had a good answer. We got together in college and married a short time later. She wasn’t this bad back then. Sure, she was bossy and took charge, but I didn’t mind it as I was typically a quieter man with a naturally passive demeanor. It actually was fun in those first years. We’d take turns dominating each other during our very active sex life. Between classes, she would ride me so hard we nearly broke my bed, while other times, I would spank her ass red, then rail her from behind until she couldn’t walk straight.

I knew our sex life would wane the longer we were married, but I didn’t expect it to become what it was now. The handful of times we had sex now felt like a chore more than an event. Both of our desires were lacking, and it didn’t help that Erin’s attitude persisted through the deed as well.

Finishing my meal quickly, I told my wife I was going to the bathroom while she ate her warm pasta. Instead, I went back into the kitchen and found our waitress being consoled by the hostess. I apologized to the girl, removed five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills from my wallet, and gave it to her. In my head, I calculated the meal was close to a hundred and twenty dollars, so I figured the hefty tip was the least I could do. The young woman’s eyes lit up. She hugged me and gave me a kiss on my cheek. I laughed and gave her an appreciative wave as I left.

When I returned to our table, Erin had finished her pasta and was perusing the dessert menu.

“Come on, Erin,” I said.

She gave me an angled look with slitted eyes, “Excuse me? I’m not done yet.”

“Yes, you are. Let’s go. Now,” I ordered and left for the door before she could say another word.

Erin made me wait another five minutes before stomping out to his SUV. The entire ride home I don’t think she took a breath once. Her mouth jabbered on with insults and venom, all directed at me as I contemplated how we could have gotten here. How did she get so bad?

I made good money on Wall Street, so she didn’t have to work. The ‘job’ she had was barely part-time and based around a charity that I funded—in truth, I think she only liked it because she got to boss people around. I knew I spoiled her from the beginning of our relationship with gifts, and later, when I started making good money, I basically wrote her a blank check every week.

Am I responsible for this situation? Maybe this is all my fault.

Her mouth kept on going all the way into our house and into the bedroom. I thought about going into the bathroom just to get some peace and quiet, but I figured she’d shout through the door.

“I don’t know why I put up with you and your ego,” Erin barked as she followed me around the bed and to my dresser, where I removed my Rolex and suit jacket. "You’re pathetic, by the way. Everyone in that restaurant saw you just sit there and not even try to stick up for me. What kind of man does that? Are you even considered a man?”

I don’t know what came over me, but I had a sudden flash of anger and realization that collided in the moment. Opening my sock drawer, I removed an object we hadn’t used in our sex life in years and rounded on my wife. Shoving her down on the bed, I enjoyed hearing the shock in her voice.

“Dan, what are you doing?” Erin said with offense in her voice. I flipped her onto her belly and immediately clicked the handcuffs on her wrists behind her back. There was a familiarity similar to déjà vu to the moment. It was like remembering the sex they once had back when they were back in collect. “Dan…”

I was familiar with her warning tone of voice but had also been married to her long enough that I knew the string of curse words that would be hurled at me if she truly wanted this to end.

“Quiet,” I said, my baritone voice filling the room. She struggled against the bindings.

“Oh, quiet? Quiet? Really? God, Dan, this is really sad. Stop trying to be something you’re not. It’s embarrassing.” Flailing her legs to the side and pulling her arms from one side to the other, Erin tried to position herself in a less vulnerable position but instead ended up squirming her skirt up to her ass cheeks. “Goddammit, would you get your ass over here and get these off of me? I told you I want to change out of these fucking clothes and—”

Smack!

“Ow! Fuck!” Erin yelped. The handcuffs clanged as she reached down to cover her butt cheek, which already had a glow of pink. “What was—ah!”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“Okay, okay, okay,” Erin whimpered a half laugh, half cry as she wiggled from side to side.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“I said quiet,” I repeated. My hand was bouncing off of her thick ass cheeks with each strike. They alternated to both sides, creating a rosy glow.

“Oka—mmm,” Erin started to speak then saw my hand raised over her shoulder and forced he lips shut.

I cupped my hand to her calf and slowly rubbed it up her legs. The warmth of my palm slipped between her thighs and up to her crotch. She didn’t say anything but arched her butt in the air, invitingly.

“You embarrassed me tonight,” I said as my hand lingered at the crevice where her thigh met her crotch. My fingers felt her pussy radiating heat. “You embarrass me most nights we’re in public…”

“I embarrass you?” Erin looked over her shoulder with incredulous eyes. “We paid good money for that food, and you just sit there and—ahh!”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“Oh, God!” she yelped, then moaned a little after the last strike. “Fuck…”

We paid? We paid? When was the last time we worked? When was the last time we considered my feelings?” I demanded. Erin started to complain again, and I spanked her once more using my entire arm.

“Oh, okay, okay, okay… shit…” Erin whimpered and kicked her feet down to the bed in frustration.

“The years have been too kind to you,” I said as I rubbed my palm over her red ass cheeks. “I’ve been too kind to you. You’ve become a spoiled brat. An entitled bitch that needs discipline.”

The tips of my fingers slipped down the crack of her ass until I felt the warm, moist section of her hairy pussy lips. My middle finger traced the lips down to her clit, and I was surprised to feel the layer of moisture already oozing from her sex.

“Mmmmm…” she hummed.

“Ah, looks like your body agrees with me. It enjoys your punishments, doesn’t it?” I asked as my finger found her clit and completed several circles around the wet nub.

“Oh, yes, yes, God…” my wife cooed as she arched her ass up in the air, giving me easier access.

“Then you admit you’re an entitled bitch.”

“Fuck you, Dan. I am not—”

The slaps, this time, were done to the face of her pussy. Erin yelped and tried to scoot away, but when I looped an arm over her hips and continued to slap with my other hand, Erin's cries of pain became ragged breaths of pleasure. The slaps softened and focused on her clit in a rhythmic motion.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God…” she hyperventilated.

“Say it,” I warned.

“Say, oh… say what? Say—say what?” she panted.

“Tell me you’re an entitled bitch,” I demanded. Each syllable of the words I spoke was emphasized with a sharp smack to her clit.

“Ah, ah, ah, fuck! I’m—I’m an entitled bitch!” she announced and sounded on the verge of orgasm when I stopped the slaps abruptly. “Oh… fuck… Oh, God…”

Using my entire hand, I rubbed agonizingly slowly over the face of her pussy in tantalizing soft circles.

“That’s right,” I said, “good girl. Now, you’re starting to realize the truth. You have to see yourself for what you are. An entitled bitch who just wares on everyone around you. Say it again, ‘I’m an entitled bitch.’”

The heel of my palm pressed on her pussy and dug in as I worked it in circles. Erin pressed her body down, increasing the pressure on her sex as she breathed harder with her cheek and mouth half shoved into the comforter.

“Oh… I’m… I’m an entitled bitch…” she moaned. “Yes…”

I moved my heel down to her clit and heard an ignition of high-pitched moans and whimpers.

“What was that, dear? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh ffffuck… I’m an entitled bitch. I’m—I’m so close—” she gasped as she rocked back and forth. “I’m a fucking entitled bitch! Ahh! Ahh… hey! Why’d you stop?”

I fought the urge to smile at the anger in my wife’s eyes as she waddled back and forth on her belly.

“Because you haven’t earned an orgasm yet, you entitled bitch,” I said.

Erin growled and let her head fall back to the mattress as she shook her head back and forth.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Erin growled. “You spend years taking it and being the bitch of the relationship, and now you get this one chance in private to pretend to be a man. Well, soak it up, Dan. Here’s your one hour to pretend you wear the pants because you both know that by tomorrow you’ll be the bitch again.”

I left the room, listening to her yell at me and growl as she fought the handcuffs behind her back. When I returned with the pair of scissors from the kitchen, the brief second of panic in her eyes was worth it. I moved behind her as her twists became panicked.

“Dan… Dan! What are you doing?” Erin tried to roll away, but I pinned her down from behind and started cutting her dress, starting with the skirt. “No, no, no! Ugh! Do you know how much I paid for this dress?”

“You didn’t pay shit, I paid. You just swiped my credit card like a gold-digging whore,” I said through gritted teeth as I sheered up the small of her back, careful not to cut her skin.

Erin gasped, “What did you call me? What did you fucking call me, you ungrateful piece of shit?”

I tossed the scissors into the corner and used my hands to rip at the remaining fabric. The tearing sound filled the room, and then I yanked the severed dress away from my wife, leaving her handcuffed and completely naked. Grabbing her tight bun of blonde hair, I squeezed and yanked backward, lifting her up and over her back as she strained.

“I called you a gold-digging whore, because that’s what you are,” I said slowly and quietly. My words filled with intensity. “And who said this was only going to last an hour?”

Releasing her hair, I left her to relax back into the bed. She panted and growled to herself as she squirmed from left to right. Her heavy breasts were free and falling from side to side as she exerted great effort to roll her back before realizing it was useless. Erin wasn’t going anywhere while in those handcuffs. In the meantime, I watched her struggle with delight. I loosened my collar and cuffs, then rolled up my sleeves to my white dress shirt.

“Where did we go wrong, Erin?” I asked as I climbed onto the bed, one knee at a time. And by we, I mean you, of course.”

“Screw you,” Erin scowled. She looked down on me through her bent knees.

“You were such a nice person when I first met you, and then somewhere along the way, you became this shell of a bitch,” I said as I slid my hand down her inner thigh, spreading her legs wide. “Remember those countless hours in my dorm? The bed braced against the wall using our textbooks as I did this to you.”

I took a long lap at her pussy, and immediately felt and taste her dripping cunt. Her warmth and energy seemed to vibrate and come alive as my tongue pressed down over her clit and made several circles.

“Ohhh…” she cooed, dropping her head back.

I rubbed my tongue back and forth on her, allowing her hips to squirm. Listening to her breaths growing shallower by the moment, I rubbed my warm palms up from caressing her ass cheeks to massaging her inner thighs. Smacking my lips as I raised off of her, I watched a shudder go through her body as most of the anger had left her expression in place of ecstasy.

“Remember how we could spend hours watching TV while eating each other out?” I asked.

Erin’s mouth was open and panting as she nodded. I could see her being close to orgasm. The bitch would agree to just anything to get me to finish her off.

“Weren’t those better times?”

“Yes, just—keep fucking eating me. Hurry up!” she demanded.

Taking my front three fingers, I lightly rubbed a circle on her clit, spreading her juices and my saliva over her sex in an ever-widening circle.

“Oh… ohh fu—fuck,” she stuttered as innocence appeared on her face with high eyebrows and wide eyes. When she saw me smile mischievously at her, her face quickly changed to one of contempt. “S-Stop fucking teasing me already and make me cum.”

I smiled all the way down to her clit. My fingers spread and pulled back on her hood, exposing her clit. With wet and warm lips, I kissed and tongued and sucked on her sensitive clitoris as a litany of expletives surrounded by my wife’s singing moans filled the bedroom.

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“Oh my fucking—fucking God!” she screamed and rocked forward and back. Her thick breasts made circles on her chest with each motion. “Shit! Yes… Yes! Holy fuck, eat that fucking—hey, why’d you stop?”

I smirked as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Erin clenched her teeth in a seething hate, “You fucking piece of shit!”

Looming over her glistening sex that still twitched and spasmed on the edge of orgasm, I laughed a sadistic chuckle at my wife’s agony.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! You and your stupid fucking power trip,” she grumbled and twisted against her cuffs one last time.

I snapped and crawled over her like a lion hovering over its prey. Kneeling beside her hip on one side, I flexed my muscular arms as my fists pressed down on the mattress on either side of her face. My eyes hung inches above her face and searched her expression as it slowly morphed. Erin saw his clenched teeth, his twitching lip, and narrowed eyes. She was beginning to learn that this night wasn’t like the thousands of previous nights they spent together. She realized that life was about to change after this moment.

The anger in her eyes gave way to trepidation as she shrunk away from her husband for the first time in years of our marriage. No words were exchanged. No contact occurred between our bodies. But the aura of this husband and wife relationship had just battled for supremacy, and I could feel her crippling defeat.

And… I like it…

Erin’s eyes blinked away and down, a wisp of fear in her eyes in this uncharted territory. I gently brought my palm to her cheek and coaxed her eyes up to mine. Exploring each other’s gaze felt like the first time. Quickly, he leaned down and kissed her so as not to let the moment slip away. It felt like their first kiss—new and wanting.

Her lips pressed up into mine as my tongue pressed down into her mouth. She panted and hummed her eagerness through their kiss as she pressed her body up to his desperately. As one hand rubbed up the back of her neck, my fingers getting lost in her hair, my other hand slid down her breasts, groping them. I continued south, my palm sliding over her clit and my fingers entering her soaked pussy lips.

Erin’s eyes went wide with shock and lust as two of my fingers pumped in and out of her hole with a roughness she hadn’t felt before.

“Oh, God…” she gasped, breaking the kiss. “Jesus…”

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked over the wet sounds of my fingers fucking her pussy.

“Ng,” she grunted and shook her head as she held her breath. Finally gasping, she moaned, “No, God, fuck—don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

I bit my lip as I thumped my fingers harder into her tender cunt. I watched her tense, and her back started to arch. Immediately, I removed my fingers and raised from my wife.

“Ohhh, gah—no! No! Shit…” She cried and squirmed as the build-up for the orgasm peaked and slowly fell away.

I shouldn’t have been smiling, but watching her tortured stress build by the moment after dealing with her shit for so long gave me insurmountable pleasure.

“Fuck!” she cursed, her body still writhed with uncontrollable spasms from the edged orgasm that never came. She shook her head and whispered, “You’re such an asshole.”

The smile disappeared from my face, and I moved off my wife. Flipping her on her belly again, the spankings began. The center of my palm clapped her ass cheeks as I sprawled her over my knee. Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek… I alternated and snickered at her growls and howls of pain, but to her credit, she never told me to stop. When her fat ass was ripe with a vibrant magenta color, I leaned over and asked her, “Are you sorry?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean it,” she replied.

“‘You didn’t mean it’ sir,” I repeated. There was a hesitation, and I rubbed a wide circle over her tender ass cheeks as a reminder.

“I didn’t mean it… sir,” she said with great effort as if the last word clawed to her lips before it left her mouth.

“Good girl…” I said approvingly of my wife. With her body still draped over my lap, I rubbed one of my hands over her bare back in a massaging motion while the other, more gently, slipped down to her pussy lips and traced a circle in them. “Do you want to cum now?”

“Yes, I need to cum so bad… sir,” she said. The ‘sir’ this time came a little easier.

Watching her face for a reaction, I fingered her clit in a tiny circle until I saw her eyes begin to roll backward, and I abruptly stopped.

“Not yet; I didn’t give my good girl permission yet,” I said, barely able to contain my laugh as she pulled at her cuff and growled into the mattress; however, she didn’t curse me this time.

She was learning.

It took another three hours of edging and disciplining my wife in this singular moment, we shared before I completed what I sought to achieve. The bitch of a woman she once was, was not gone but restrained. The outer layers of her vile shell had been cracked, shattered, and stripped away, leaving her vulnerable and subject to her husband’s care.

After edging Erin to the brink of orgasm for the twenty-fifth time, my wife was in a state of sexual anguish I didn’t know a person could reach. She lay on her bed, still recovering from the last edge. The comforter was wrinkled and folded on one side. Erin’s perfect hair was now tangled and folded to one side. Her thighs twitched and rubbed together like she was trying to start a fire. Watching her recover, I felt satisfied with the place we had both arrived.

The journey we had both taken tonight was one of self-discovery, and it wasn’t until that very moment that I realized the truth about their relationship—a truth I had ignored for too long and must take responsibility for now.

It is all my fault…

My clothes had been stripped away throughout the night’s activities except for my boxers, which had a wet stain from my continuously leaking pre-cum. The arousal both of us experienced tonight was something that would require much more studying of the days to come. I climbed into bed, my hard cock bouncing in my boxers as I maneuvered behind Erin and rested my back against the headboard. The wooden bed frame groaned and creaked from the pressure. It was an expensive bed frame but made of cheap materials. Erin groaned at my touch as I dragged her backward to me. Her entire body oozed with lust, and she melted into me. Her horniness from the night’s activities had brought her to the edge of madness from her denial of orgasm.

“Ohh… please, sir. Please…” she gasped between shuddering breaths. “I can’t… I… I can’t take anymore. I have—I have to cum. Please, oh, please, sir, let me cum,” she whined.

“Shhh shhh…” I whispered as I rubbed her shoulders, brushed her hair to one side, and kissed her neck. Even this simple act seemed too much stimulus for her as she began to pant like a dog and press her back into my chest, always desperate for more. “Easy…” I warned as I kissed up her neck to her ear. “I think I’ve had an epiphany, my love,” I growled softly into her ear.

My hands slid around her breasts, which were red with hard nipples that were overly sensitive after hours of discipline. Cupping them and massaging them, I listened to her moans and squeaks from the contact before rubbing my palms lower. Down her belly to her quivering thighs, I pulled her legs apart despite her thigh's insistence to do otherwise until she was lying back against me, naked and completely spread eagle.

“Those good years when we first met,” I whispered to my wife. “I did my part to keep you in check. Keep you in your place.” My hands squeezed her inner thighs, and she released a cooing sound as she went back to rubbing up and down, inching closer to her tortured sex. “But as soon as we got married, your inner bitch was set loose. You knew you had a legal contract keeping me to you. You could be as much of a fucking cunt as you like, couldn’t you?” I tapped her pussy lips with a light slap of my fingers, and she cried.

“Yes, sir… Oh, yes, sir, I’m a fucking cunt, sir,” she whined and arched her pussy in the air, silently demanding more attention.

“Mmm,” I hummed with approval at her transformation and rewarded her with a long, gentle rub of her drenched pussy.

“Oh, fuck…” she whimpered from the erotic touch. Her hands, which were still cuffed behind her back, felt around to brace against something, but in their exploration, they realized for the first time that they rested on my hard cock. As if her hands moved with a life of their own, they immediately grabbed at his cock and palpated my shaft through my boxers.

“And what I just realized,” I groaned as she found the damp head of my cock and groped at it as she began to caress me. “Is that you’ve been a dirty brat all your life, haven’t you? Everything given to you. You whine, and men do. You cry, and someone fixes it. You’ve been missing the discipline to keep your cunt personality in check, haven’t you? Isn’t that right? You’re a dirty fucking, ugh, brat?” I grunted as my wife’s hands desperately found their way inside my boxers and were stroking my cock.

“Yes! I’m—oh, please…” her words trailed off as I teased a finger between her pussy lips, lightly pumping inside her.

“What was that?” I asked in a raised voice.

“Yes, sir! Yes, sir! I’m a dirty fucking brat, sir. Take me!”

“Mmmm… that’s it…” I groaned as her tiny, handmade, long strokes on my shaft, and I flexed in response. “Now my bratty fucking wife is starting to learn her place.”

“Yes—yes, sir… please… just let me cum. I’m—I’m desperate, sir,” she begged.

Without warning, I plunged two fingers into her pussy. They went deep and explored her G-spot. I grinned at the sound of her moans and the jitters that went through her body.

“Oh, you want to cum, do you?” I asked. “You think I should let my whore wife cum?”

“Yes—oh, God, please—fuck! I’ll do anything,” she panted and twitched with every inch. I removed my fingers and pushed them back in.

“I don’t know…” I pondered as my fingers continued to pump inside her at a steady pace, putting her almost into a mini seizure. “If I let you cum, are you going to go back to being a fucking bitch again? Am I going to have to discipline you all over again?”

“No, God no—never, sir! Please, oh fuck! I’m so close. I’m so close—it’s right there…”

Sliding my other hand up to her throat, I turned her face so her eyes locked with mine and ordered my wife, “Then cum for me, whore.”

Holding her in place against me by her throat, my hand buried between her thighs ravaged her pussy. The sound of my palm smacking against her clit competed with the juicy squishing sound of my two fingers fucking her pussy. Erin released an exasperated moan but quickly went silent and even stopped breathing entirely. She held her breath as the sounds of me stuffing her cunt roughly grew louder and louder until a violent tremor that had been building in her limbs turned into a convulsion.

“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ahhhh!” Erin screamed as a gushing stream of her juices sprayed over the lower portion of the bed. Her soaked thighs clapped together around his hand, but his palm continued to vibrate on her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her hole while she continuously squeezed on him. The squishing, suctioning sound made by my soaked hand molesting my wife’s crotch was loud and filled the room.

Erin’s body wormed up and down as her eyes rolled backward, and her body’s jittery motion took on a life of its own.

“Oh my… G-god… oh… God…” she whispered and grunted as I watched the never-ending orgasm tantalize her.

When I finally did remove my hand from her crotch, she was given only seconds to recover. Tossing her to the side, I kneeled on the bed after pulling off my boxers and unleashing my throbbing member. Erin rolled to her belly, still twitching and trying to gain control of her breathing.

I fed the tip of my swollen cock between her lips and groaned as I felt my wife’s snatch grow tighter than I had ever felt. She squeezed on me as I lowered more and more of myself inside her.

“Ohhhh Goddd!” she screamed, lifting her face from the mattress.

I grunted back as I finally got most of my cock inside her clenched twat. Bracing myself on her fat, bubble butt, I pumped my shaft in and out of her like a piston to an engine.

“Fuck—gahhh! Nnnggg!” Erin screamed and tried to slip out of the handcuffs for the twentieth time that night. Biting down on the corner of the comforter, she muffled her high-pitched screams.

My hands gripped either side of her hips as I railed her. All the muscles of my body flexed as I stuffed my cock into her bitchy cunt. Slipping one hand up, I grabbed the chain of the handcuffs, lifting her up from the bed and re-igniting her moans.

“Aahhh! Shit!” she cried.

“Yeah, you like that, you filthy whore?” I panted between breaths.

“God, ugh, yes! Oh fuck!” his wife growled as she was stretched backward. Her impressive tits bounced and flopped to her chest with every hard buck of my hip. “Jesus—fuck!”

“Are you about to cum, slut? Huh?” I asked, and when I didn’t get an answer in a timely manner used my other hand to spank her already raw and red ass cheeks. Smirking when she screamed a muffled gurgle, I asked again. “I didn’t hear you…”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“Uuughhh! Fuck, fuck, fuck—yes, yes! I’m—I’m so close!” Erin drooled as she screamed. Her hair chaotically covered her face as her head lolled with every thrust.

“Yeah? Do you want to cum? Do you want to cum on this big fucking cock?” I growled.

“Fffuck, please, yes! Yes! Please let me cum—oh, God.”

“Then cum for me, you dirty slut,” I demanded and immediately went back to spanking her.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“Oh god, fuck! Ughhh! Shit!” Erin cursed from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Come on, whore! You want it to stop, then cum!”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

After the last smack, I gritted my teeth and jammed my cock into her pussy as hard as I could. all sounds fell away except for the shaking bed and the thumping sound of my body ramming into hers. Erin arched her back and looked to the ceiling as she took a ragged breath and grunted out a moan.

“Cum—cumming—cumming… oh, my God, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” she cried as her thick tits clapped together with every bounce. An intense pressure pushed my cock out of her as a spill of juices poured from her cunt that I ignored and shoved my cock back inside her. Collapsing to the mattress, she twisted and dug her face into the bed to muffle the string of curses and ramblings as the orgasm took over her body. “Yes, yes, yesss—I can’t—I can’t stop. Make it—Jesus Christ!”

I watched the multiple muscle cramps and spasms in her legs and body come and go as I continued to fuck her pussy raw for another minute until I felt the inescapable urge about to peak. Pulling out of her pulsating pussy, I walked around the side of the bed and turned my groaning whore onto her side. Pulling her head back by her hair with one hand while stroking my cock with the other, I grunted as I came harder than I ever had in my life. Thick ropes of murky white ejaculate shot on her mouth, cheek, forehead, and hair as I emptied myself on my wife’s face.

Both of us needed several minutes to recover. I sat beside my naked wife, who curled to my side as she quivered. Once our breath had come back to us, I stood and got dressed. By then Erin had sat up on the edge of the bed and waited for my instruction. Her naked body made me smile, and part of me wanted to leave her like this for a while so I could have round two with her, but I knew she earned more slack on her leash.

Reaching into my underwear drawer once more, I looked around for what I was after. Turning back to my wife, I saw her looking up at me. Eyeliner and mascara smudged and ran down her face from the sweat, tears, and cum still on her face, and her lipstick was smeared a bit on one side. Despite all that, she looked up at him with wide and innocent eyes.

The eyes of a good girl, I thought as I tapped the handcuff key on my palm. But is she really changed? Time for the final test.

“If I take these handcuffs off, are you going to be a bratty little bitch again, or are you still going to be my good little whore.”

Erin smiled at me with a milky gob of cum still on her upper lip.

“I will always be your good little whore, sir,” she said.

I smiled down at her but hesitated as I cocked my head to the side. Her smile said one thing, but her intense stare said another. One of them was a lie.

“We shall see,” I said and reached behind my naked wife. Finding the keyhole to the handcuffs, I inserted the key and twisted, feeling the handcuffs fall away from her wrists.

Published 
Written by djmiles
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