"Are you sure you want to do this, Frankie?"
Francesca (Frankie for short) was naked and bent over the dining room table. Joe, her husband for 10 years now, was standing behind her. He had a belt in his hand, folded in half, with the buckle end wrapped once around his fist.
She found herself in this predicament because of their earlier discussion about their sex life, over breakfast this morning. Francesca had loved spanking, since she was introduced to it in college. Joe didn't mind - after all, it wasn't his ass getting beat - but he wasn't enthusiastic enough for her tastes. Joe had been taught that it wasn't nice to beat up on women. With all of the talk about harsher penalties for domestic violence, who could blame him for being a little skittish? What made it worse, was that she liked to role-play and having the defenseless little school girl ask the headmaster to spank harder, just wasn't the textbook way of doing it.
They had a safe-word, of course - Joe would have it no other way. But Francesca never used it, of course, because Joe never quite went far enough. He said that he didn't really want to press her so far that she would use the safe-word. Wouldn't that mean that he had gone too far? That he failed? Since he didn't know where the boundary was, he stayed too far away from it.
She heard that and blurted out, "Well, then, that's simple to solve. Take your belt off and keep spanking me harder until you get me to use the safe-word. Then you'll know how much it takes."
So, she found herself looking at the dining room table's centerpiece, from a decidedly different angle than she'd seen it before. The whole thing seemed so abstract and academic when they were talking it over their morning bagels. But now... She had given her husband a license to whip her ass until she asked him to stop? Was she nuts?
"No," she told herself.
She was teaching Joe a lesson. She knew she wanted him to spank her harder when they were playing. She had to teach him what that meant.
"Yes, Joe. Don't stop until you hear me say 'Uncle.'"
He laid his belt against her ass and she closed her eyes. The belt disappeared and then a moment later, landed hard on her ass.
It was a good first effort, enough to make her go "Ooh!"
He reared back and brought the belt down again. A little harder. He was starting to get into it. He settled into a rhythm of about a second and a half between each stroke. Each one elicited a little squeak from Francesca, but she still felt like she could outlast his arm if he didn't do better.
After his next stroke, she replaced her "Ouch" with "Harder!"
He laid into her with renewed vigor. His next stroke made her eyes pop wide open. Her pussy started to tingle a little, with each harder stroke. Her squeals started to take on the echo of moans. But still, she wanted more.
Joe heard her voice change, in reaction to his harder strokes and it awoke in him just a hint of the animal manliness that society had suppressed in him. In that instant, he decided that if she really wanted to see what he could do, then by golly, he'd show her!
He started laying into his wife's ass, with all his might. He expected her to stop him after the first one, but her cries weren't for him to stop. Her lust egged him on and he dug deeper into the animal within. His cock started to twitch as he laid into her ass, with even more ferocity. He started to speed up his tempo.
As he did, he saw her turn rigid and cry out, as an orgasm broke over her and she screamed, "Uuuuuuncle! Oh God!"
He dropped the belt. They were both panting. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead while tears dripped down her cheeks.
The first words came from Joe, "Frankie, my God! Are you alright?"
"Yes, Honey, why?"
"Your ass... I think I broke it. It's turning purple."
She smiled and chuckled a little. She felt a weird combination of burning fire and numbness in her ass. She tried to pick herself up from the table, but she was light headed. Joe helped her get to her feet and walked her to the bedroom. He helped her lie down on her tummy, on the bed, then went to the kitchen for an ice pack. He wasn't sure that was the right thing, but it was something.
When he got back he lay down next to her on the bed and said, "I'm sorry, Frankie. I lost control. I can't believe I did that to you."
Francesca smiled, "No. I told you to whip me until I cried 'Uncle,' right?" Joe nodded. "And you stopped when I did, right?" He nodded again.
"But do you want it that hard? Every time?"
"No, not every time, and maybe not ever quite that hard. But that's a lot harder than you've been willing to do before, right?"
"That's for sure! I don't know. Something happened while I was doing it. Something...." He didn't know how to explain.
He was an accountant. What was this beast that he had tapped into, while savaging his wife with his leather belt?
She reached over and kissed him and said, "Something wonderful."
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