Armistice Day


I wanted to share this post again that I wrote back in 2009 for Armistice Day known now as Veteran’s Day in the United States.

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in the year 1918 World War I came to an end with an armistice involving nearly all the warring parties. For Mrs. Jensen she felt the deadly chill thawing when she began to hope she’d see her husband again. For two long years she’d lived in dread of the Western Union boy. Refusing to read the papers or the periodicals, she’d even walked out of the cinema to avoid the patriotic newsreels.

Three weeks later, a letter from the Army, her husband had been discharged and would be home in two weeks. For her sanity, Mrs. Jenson did nothing different, not even mark the calendar. She honestly couldn’t remember the feel of his arms around her or even the deep penetration when they made love. The other things, those she recalled with clarity.

The chuff-chuff of the special troop train gradually quieted only to be replaced by loud cheers and the local brass band playing triumphant airs. The orderly crowd quickly broke into a frenzy of yells, tears and ecstatic families finally reunited. Craning her neck, Mrs. Jenson thought she saw her husband, but waited patiently away from the maddened crush. Then, he was holding her, his lips trembling as she wept happy tears of relief.

After dinner, a repast he likened to the finest ambrosia, he took her hand and led her to their bedroom. He poured out two years of horror, despair and brutality on her acquiescent body. She found, to her surprise, responding enthusiastically to his advances. Even trying things she’d refused to do before the war as being unladylike. There was one thing she needed however.

Before they slept from passion temporarily satiated, she retrieved his leather strop, hanging where he had left it and oiled regularly by Mrs. Jenson in his absence. She removed her nightgown, another first, and eagerly bent over the bolsters. Rising once more, her husband took her again as she moaned wantonly. There was no armistice in the Jenson household. The strop rose and fell harshly on her bottom, steadily turning two years of neglect into a flaming red rear.

When he finished, she was so aroused. Needing another go, she dropped to her knees. Only on her wedding night had she allowed him to put his male part in her mouth, but Mrs. Jenson was so hot, so aflame with lust, she had to succor him: taste her essence and draw him close, draining all his nightmares while awake. When he plunged back in, close to spending, she begged for him to use her mouth when he was ready. The cold they both had lived for two years was now hot as the viscous fluid pouring down her throat.

Whipping my Spanking Novel into shape

Well, here goes nothing!

I’m not very good at socializing or trusting, so this is a very big step for me to ask for assistance and throw my hopes and dreams out into the world.

Some background first.

Back in 2009 I started Lurv Spanking as an anonymous outlet to write stories and commentary about spanking, specifically the psychology ‘behind’ the reasons so many people like spanking. I mentioned spanking on my real-name blog that I started in 2006 from time to time and discovered many, if not a majority, of my readers were fellow spankos. None of the other six blogs I was curating in 2009 fit the precise requirements so Lurv Spanking was born.

In late 2006 I wrote a short story and emailed it to a blogging friend. She read it and immediately wrote back saying I had to turn the story into a full-length novel. I posted that first chapter on my real-name blog, then several more until all my readers told me to take it down and write the novel. I did so, mostly at work, and in 2007 self-published my novel under my real name. Back then, it was called vanity publishing and the many epublishers and media platforms did not yet exist. It didn’t sell because I didn’t bother promoting it except on my blogs and I had given a free copy to all my most loyal readers. Then in Sept. 2009, I wrote a short story here on Lurv Spanking and again the same thing happened. Readers told me to take it down and write a novel. So I did, pecking away at it for a year and writing 60,000 words.

Then, the hard drive crashed… twice and we had to buy a replacement computer. I had neglected to back up the Word doc and it was gone. Luckily… I was in the habit of printing out each page as it was finished, so I had a hard copy at least. By 2012 I was done with blogging. My main blog was getting up to 200 spam comments a day and I was tired of writing. I walked away from all seven blogs and didn’t come back until the month of July, 2016. My manuscript was dusty and the thickness was intimidating. But I remembered in the forward to The Lord of The Rings, J.R.R Tolkien describing how it took 13 years to finish the manuscript and then having to type and re-type it all over again when it was done. I’m not in his class of writer – few are – but I can type if I have the time and inclination.

Starting over.

So on June 29, 2016 I wrote a completely new prologue to my spanking novel and then started, page by page to reenter every word I’d written over six years ago. [I wasn’t able to scan with OCR software – I tried several – because our computer OS is too old] I finished July 29, 2016 with a total of 70,000 words adding 10,000 new words and changing the entire novel from 1st person past and present, to 3rd person past and 1st person present. As of now, I have to write at least another 40,000 words to complete the novel, all new plots and scenarios. This time I have a copy here on this blog, a Word doc on my computer, a hard copy and a flash drive backup. The characters are still mulling over how they want the novel to end. They have a fairly detailed outline blocked out but nothing is solid yet. That’s the problem sometimes when you want to write one way and the character(s) come back and say ‘Spanking without any sex? Ever? I don’t think so. This is what you’re going to write.’

Below is a trial synopsis for a potential back cover – presuming of course it ever is printed – based on the arc of the story lines. I had not intended to write an erotic spanking novel at all, only spanking but as above the characters wanted to have sex and who was I to say no. My style of writing is to slowly introduce characters one by one by using mostly dialog rather than internal monologue. In fact, in the prologue no names are used and Kitten’s name is not revealed until chapter two, the title character’s name until midway of chapter two and the third female character until chapter four. I also switch back and forth between past and present as DJ is relating the story to his wife. One of the interesting things about observation is that no two people remember the same event the same way. I’ve tried to capture this by having all the characters knowing something about everybody, but nobody knowing everything about anybody and mostly what they think they know is incorrect. The only one who knows everything is the reader but even then, there are many secrets not revealed until the very end.

Still writing and hope to be done by the end of the month.

This however is not a typical story. Here on this blog I try to write happy spanking stories where all the characters are having fun and being silly at times. My novels explore the darkness and are painful for me to write. They touch on all sorts of triggers for both me and my readers. Sometimes I get so angry at what my characters are going through I want to punch the screen. Other times my eyes are so filled with tears of joy I can’t see. I’ve been denying myself for years the fact that I have to write. I sit at the keyboard and they start narrating their lives to me. My characters want to live. They want to be remembered and celebrated. They want you to know that when you read their story, you will cry, laugh, scream, be aroused and be sad but will never be comfortable.

DJ used to be a college bad boy running with a pack of affluenza hellions reveling in a hedonistic lifestyle of sex, spanking and bondage with willing victims. After earning a Master’s degree he meets the love of his life and is happily married in a burgeoning D/s relationship and Dominant to Kitten when it all starts to fall apart. Very curious to know more about his past submissive conquests as she’s still trying to decide how much dominance she desires, Kitten awakens the monster DJ thought he had suppressed for good. As he takes her submission deeper and deeper into the lifestyle of BDSM the punishments and explicit sexual training become more severe as devastating secrets are revealed from his past. The narrative unfolds simultaneously five years apart with DJ as the protagonist in both timelines and then the past and present collide when he comes face-to-face with the women he thought he’d ruined and lost forever. Will they forgive him or have they come seeking revenge? Will Kitten continue to roll over and submit or will her claws come out? Starring three strong women and one sadistic man, Breaking Grace is a lyrical and powerful erotic novel exploring many aspects of BDSM and LGBT while acknowledging both the devastation of past abuse and the power of faith and redemption within a D/s relationship between survivors. The reader’s beliefs and expectations will be challenged at every turn of the page.

So having written all this, I would like some advice from my current readership. Number one is I am seeking a beta reader(s) who would be willing to proofread the manuscript in several ways. I do not have anyone in real life who I can ask to be a beta reader.

1. Grammar and styling.
2. Continuity.
3. Genuineness of sex and punishment scenes.
4. Story flow in terms of readability.
5. Character development.
6. Overall plot believability.

I would also greatly appreciate feedback from published authors about the platforms they currently use and which ones to avoid although I’ve checked several and they don’t fit with the scope of this novel since this a male narrator and set in present day. Not to mention, the story doesn’t fit any one genre but bounces through many archetypes. On the other hand, I love this novel and am very proud of my efforts. If you would like to offer assistance then please contact me at my email address, lurvspanking@gmail.com and I will get back to you. I can’t offer any compensation except my grateful thanks for your readership and reciprocal beta reading.

Sincerely,
LS

The Silent Treatment gets spanked

Cross posted to ‘New Beginnings’ on 7/29/16 Thanks PK so if you’ve already read the post you can wait until the next post. On her blog she filled in the names.

This is a fill in the blank story. The names of the guilty you can select and punish.

 

Husband #1. “Dude! What’s wrong with your wife?”
Husband #2. “She’s giving me the silent treatment. Who knows.”
Husband #3. “Wouldn’t happen in my house.”
Husband #4. “Why not?”
Husbands #1,#3. “Because our wives would be over our knees for a long hard spanking until they started talking. That’s why!”
Husbands #2,#4. “WTF?”

___ was getting fed up with ___ and her silent treatment. He had no idea what set her off this time only that she hadn’t exchanged more than ‘I’m fine’ and ‘I have a headache’ all weekend. Hanging out with the guys watching sports on Sunday was an ordeal when ___ asked him what was wrong with her? That time of the month was greeted with sighs and snickers. [Not the chocolate bar-men being assholes] ___ overheard their derision and stormed out of the house with mayhem on her mind. She went next door to ___ house and vented over margaritas. ___ noticed ___ was squirming every time she sat down. Are you OK? Not that time of the month is it? [sarcastic tipsy] No, ___ spanked me this morning for back talk. WTF? ___ spanks you? Yes for cursing, speeding, overspending, overeating, being drunk… all sorts of things. Rarely a day goes past without my panties down and my bottom reddened. I can’t believe this! I’m not the only one, ___ and ___ and ___ also get spanked. Don’t you? ___ would never spank me! Is that a good thing? You just told me you’re giving him the silent treatment. In my house, that calls for the paddle and a long blowjob to atone. Doesn’t that make you feel degraded? ___ honey the only thing that makes me feel degraded is when ___ doesn’t spank me for something I did wrong. Being ignored hurts way more than a session with the cane. I don’t know if I could let ___ spank me, it seems so medieval and uncaring. No ___ you’re wrong, being spanked is empowering, it shows me that ___ cares about me as a person and wants me to succeed in my goals. Spanking allows me to be a better wife, a better mother and a better person.

___ went home after dark. ___ had come over to ___ house and the three of them had discussed children, work and spanking husbands. [husbands spanking wives- not spanking husbands- oh never mind] ___ was waiting for her alone, the guys having given him some rather explicit advice. Could he do it? Could he be a superhero to his wife? Spankoman! ___ was tired and confused and brushed past him wanting to take a shower. When she finished, she curled up in bed and cried. ___ tiptoed into the bedroom listening to her venting her frustration. Behind his back he hid the implement. Standing over her back he raised it up and swung down. A soft thunk as the down pillow thudded against her bottom. What are you doing? He swung again hitting her torso with a pop. What does it look like? I’m having a one-sided pillow fight. ___ grabbed a pillow and rose to her knees, her nude body still damp from the shower. She swung her pillow and hit his legs. Back and forth they went until she fell back laughing and gasping for breath. ___ sat down on the bed, leaned over and kissed her. Welcome back, are you going to talk to me now? She apologized for her behavior and he accepted. You’re still dressed and her hands went to his belt buckle. That’s because I’m not finished with you yet. What are you going to do to me? ___ you know I love you but your treatment of me is unacceptable at times. There is only one way for me express my dissatisfaction and that is to put you over my knee and spank you for your silent treatment.

___ looked at ___ with wide eyes and did not resist when he drew her up and over his lap. Her unblemished beautiful bounteous bare bottom beckoned for a beating. This is for not speaking with me as his hand rose and fell. This is for running away and drinking all afternoon as her bottom turned pink. This is for cursing when you don’t think I hear as she begged him to stop. And this is for believing I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t care enough about your well-being that I wouldn’t spank you as he turned her bottom a lovely shade of red. He rubbed and prodded as she wept out the last of her tension and fears. Still over his knees, ___ used his fingers inside her weeping core and thrummed her aching clit until she came begging him not to stop. So ___ did not stop, but threw ___ on her back and licked deep inside as she convulsed again and again. When ___ opened her eyes, she saw ___ was still dressed. He told her she was not done with her punishment. Kneel. She knelt and unbuckled his belt, lowered the zipper and reached inside pulling out the concealed treasure. It was at that stage of rock hard firmness and throbbing hot as she wrapped her hands around the shaft. Clear sweet liquid oozed from the round tip gleaming in the light. Before ___ could open her mouth and begin her discipline, ___ informed her that spankings would be forthcoming whenever she earned them. Do you agree ___?

___ looked up at her husband. My mother told me it was rude to talk with my mouth full.

 

 

Because a poem was wanted in the moonlight :)

rising above
if I were there
her full moon
parted eclipse
your taste
remembered now
faintly gleaming
pearlescent shimmer
mixture of lust
falling slowly from
reddened lips
on my back
cheeping
my sticky hand
wrapped
around you
I open my mouth
begging to be fed

Ina-Morata requested a poem as a comment on a post. I chose ‘The Mating of Love Birds’ and this is the response I wrote.

How to ask your man for a spanking*

[* Your man not ‘A’ man. Asking a stranger** for a spanking is a really bad idea.]
[** Stranger as in a random guy rather than someone in the scene***]
[*** Scene includes but not limited to clubs, gatherings, films etc.]

The following is fiction. I do not receive letters from women seeking advice.
They could.
Ask for advice.
But they don’t.
Because…
Well, this blog is a way for me to be creative and more importantly, force myself to keep writing.
Although if anyone does want to contact me they could.
I don’t have any contact on this blog however other than leaving a comment.

Dear Lurvspanking,

I hope it’s all right to leave this comment. I read all your posts and I wanted to ask you a question. How do I ask my husband to spank me? In your stories all the women are confident and the men all immediately understand the need for a good spanking. But I read many blogs written by married women and they all confide their husbands don’t understand them. There seems to be constant conflict over being submissive in today’s modern culture. What I want is what all the other women want: to be treated as someone precious and fragile while acknowledging our intelligence and passion. Is that too much to expect from a spanking?

Thanks

Confused wannabe sub in Middle America

Dear Wannbe,

Thank you for your comment and yes, it is all right to ask me for my advice. Let’s start with spanking shall we? You don’t mention how long you’ve been married or if you have children, but I’ll assume you have two kids and have been married for ten years. Is spanking something you want to spice up your sex life? Is it for punishment? Control? What are your expectations?

LS

Dear LS,

Thanks for replying. We have only one child and we’ve been together for fifteen years all told. I am very submissive, always have been, but with working full-time and my husband having his own interests, I’ve had to be independent. More independent than I’m comfortable being on a daily basis. I want my husband to spank me because I’m unhappy with me, with everything. I’m too fat, too tired, too lazy and have completely lost my way. Sex? What’s that? Maybe if he wanted to go out once in a while instead on lying on the couch watching sports. Sorry. Didn’t mean to vent.

Wannabe

Dear Wannabe,

You really do need a hard spanking! Such an attitude! Men are simple. When a woman is needy, they pull away. But, the one redeeming quality – besides a big cock – is that men love a problem to fix. Instead of coming right out and asking for a spanking, ask your husband for his advice. Be demure, not clingy and dress nice. Glance down as if shy and touch him gently. Tell him you’ve been thinking about stuff and he’s the only one who can solve your problems. He’ll puff right up and get all interested. Take it slow. Start with your weight. He’ll say right away you’re perfect and you’ll pout because he’s not taking you seriously. STOP! Stop right there. In his eyes you are perfect otherwise he wouldn’t be with you! Men are simple. Men need a good woman to take care of them. Stop resenting his needs and start anticipating how you can better serve him. That’s part of being submissive. Not a doormat, submissive. Ask him how you should go about losing some weight. Be prepared for graphs and flowcharts detailing calorie burn and watts/hour. Squeal and gush at his macho display, men love when their woman get all gooey when they flex their muscles. Repeat for all the issues you have. To show your gratitude, unzip his fly.

LS

Dear LS,

Wow! I never thought about any of that! Except the unzipping the fly, I can handle that part. But what about the spanking? I want a spanking!!!!!!!

Wannabe

Wannabe,

Don’t make me come over there! Be patient, you’ve waited fifteen years already what’s a few more weeks? Try to follow his schedule. Report to him every other day on your progress. Get him used to being in charge of you and your body. When you crash and burn, and you will, he will be hurt. Men do that when their women don’t follow their magnificent plan of action. Make it up to him. Bring a hairbrush/paddle/belt with you. Kneel at his feet. Tell him how sorry you are. Tell him you want to follow his wonderful plan, but you are too weak, you need his masculinity in order to stay on track. Tell him you’ve earned punishment, but not the cold shoulder, not his disgust. Tell him you’ve earned a spanking. Don’t let him have time to think. Raise your skirt and lay over his lap. Ask him to start with his hand and then use the hairbrush/paddle/belt on your naughty bottom until he’s satisfied you’ve been punished enough. No matter how little or how much he spanks you, do not COMPLAIN, but simple accept his dominance. There will be plenty of time later to discuss what happened. He’ll be guilty, trust me, especially if he bruises you, but thank him in both words and sex. The next day, discuss in a calm and rational conversation how you need regular spankings in order to maintain his plan. Do not accept any lessening of his plan. Men are simple. As long as he thinks he’s simply helping you follow his advice he’ll keep spanking you. Of course, at some point, you’ll be motivated to succeed instead of fail and then, spanking takes on a completely different tone. Let me know how it turns out.

LS

First try at spanking

There was something so soothing about being cradled in a man’s arms, especially after a nice session of loving. Ellen blushed, even though Franklin had been her husband for eleven months, she still felt constrained by her morals. The lights had to be off. She had to be wearing a nightgown. And she’d never done anything other than simply lying down and letting Franklin enter her with his thing. He was patient with her shyness though. He understood the fractured upbringing she suffered. By taking her away and beginning a new life together Ellen was realizing there was more to a marriage than drinking and yelling.

“Franklin?”
“Hum.”
“Do I please you?”
“In what way?”
“You know… in bed… when you love me.”
“Of course you do darling. You’re a wonderful partner and I love you very much. Now get some sleep.”

Ellen laid silently listening to her husband’s breathing and occasional snoring. She couldn’t sleep. Naïve as she was, the friends she’d made in this town all seemed happier and more satisfied with their marriages when it came to loving. Ellen blushed in the dark even thinking the word ‘sex’. To hear her friends gossip there were many things they did and had done to them that Ellen couldn’t even bring herself to acknowledge ever trying. Yet, in the quiet hours of the early morning, if she was honest with herself, she felt unfulfilled with the physical parts of her marriage. If only Franklin was…

After making breakfast for her husband and seeing him off to work, Ellen busied herself with domestic chores. She took pride in a clean house and good cooking. She’d asked Franklin after they were engaged if she would be required to continue her career. He’d firmly stated then it was his responsibility to support her and their children and her responsibility to keep house and be a mother. The mother part had yet to materialize but the doctor had assured Ellen she was normal ‘down there’. She’d been mortified by the exam, her first, but the doctor had been caring if a bit stern. Even Franklin had never seen her so intimately; Ellen frowned at the notion, it seemed wrong some how to deny her husband. The rest of the day passed in a blur until at a quarter to six Franklin returned home. It was Thursday, meatloaf and potato night. Serving him, refilling his glass and listening intently while he vented, Ellen felt very content.

In his den later Franklin was engrossed in reports when there was a timid knock on the door. Ellen entered his sanctum and stood without speaking in front of his desk. “Yes?”
“Franklin? I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone. It’s nothing.”
“Nonsense Ellen. Whatever is bothering you I would appreciate knowing. I am your husband.”
“I know. You deserve better from a wife.”
“What claptrap are you spouting Ellen? I am quite pleased with your efforts as my wife. You provide a pleasant home and good food, what more could a man want?”
“Maybe… I know you’re a man Franklin… you have needs… I’m not very good at, you know, sex.”

Franklin was stunned. His demure Ellen was apologizing for her lack of skills in the bedroom? It was true he had certain ‘needs’, however, demanding his wife provide them was… gauche. He was a gentleman, and gentlemen never took, only coaxed. The stories of fantastic and exotic sex were just that, stories and fables written by men too timid to seek out a real woman.
“I think you’re doing fine Ellen. I am quite satisfied by your efforts to please me. We’ll not discuss this further.”
“But…”
“Enough Ellen.”

She was clearly being dismissed and she obeyed, at first; then determinedly made up her mind. “No Franklin, it is not enough. I am not enough for you. If I am truly to be your wife then my body must also belong to you to use as you see fit. You need more. I want more. There has to more to sex than what we’ve had for the past eleven months. There has to be more Franklin.”
“Are you disobeying me Ellen? I said I was satisfied.”
“What if I am Franklin? I think you’re lying. I think you want to do all sorts of nasty things to me.”
“And how do you know about ‘nasty’ things Ellen? What have you been reading behind my back?”
“Nothing Franklin! My friends talk about their husbands all the time! I can’t help but overhear.”
“Overhear what precisely?”
Ellen was blushing profusely but Franklin’s scolding was melting some of her natural reserve. His dominance was making her squirm. “Susan said she loved to suck Tom’s ‘thing’ until he spurted in her mouth.”
“His thing?”
“You know… his manroot.”
“Ah. His penis. Go on.”
“Laura explained how Samuel licks her down there…”
“Down there Ellen?”
“Her pussy Franklin. Laura loves to have her pussy licked. How come you’ve never tried that with me?”

Franklin stood up and walked around the desk: Ellen instinctively backed-up against the closed door. He bent down and kissed his wife – hard – while gripping her firmly round the waist. He forced his tongue into her mouth, she responded with a faint moan. Releasing her lips he asked her, “What else wife did you overhear?”
Ellen shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Most of my friends are…”
“Yes?”
“Are spanked.”
“Spanked?”
“Yes Franklin, spanked; hard and often if their tales are to be believed.”
“By their husbands?”
“Evidentially.”
“Because?”
“I don’t know Franklin. I was too embarrassed to inquire.”

There was a wingless armchair in the corner of the den. Franklin led his unresisting wife and bent her over his seated knees. Raising her dress he was struck by the realization it was the first time he’d ever seen her bottom in daylight. “Down or up?”
“Down please Franklin. I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve neglected you so much. Spank me hard… please?”

Over the top

The blue spruces shuddered violently. Lightning danced rapidly from menacing flannel clouds approaching the homestead. Heather Parks wrung her hands thinking of her husband Josh driving home in this terrifying weather. He’d been gone a week this time on business and despite nightly calls she constantly worried about his health. Her concern was a constant source of friction. Josh hated being ‘babied’ and Heather had fled in tears after many an argument. If only he would see what she needed, what she craved: he was oblivious to her! As the storm grew harsher so did Heather’s thoughts until the crashing thunder shook dust from the rafters.

“Mom! Where’s my yellow shirt?”

“It’s in the wash! I’m trying to write, have Daddy help you!” Corrine Campos grimaced hearing the horde descending upon her unsuspecting husband. Carmelo was warm and loving, except when it came to women’s work. Old-fashioned to the extreme he would never even consider lifting a finger to help around the house. He supported Corrine and their three children by running his own consulting business and that was enough for him and his mother. She’d found his masculinity overwhelming when they were dating but after ten years of marriage the resentments were reaching the breaking point. When her phone rang; well, Corrine snapped out without checking ID.

“What!”
“My, my Corrine. Testy today?”
“Sorry Roxy. Bad day.”
“I understand. Hate to rain on your parade but ‘Over the top’ needs work, lots of work.”
“I know, I know, I know. I’m editing now Roxy, please give me a little more time.”
“I’m sorry Corrine, but the deadline is Wednesday and if you don’t have a publishable draft by tomorrow the magazine is going to cancel. There’s nothing more I can do. Give me something to sell and I’ll go to the mat for you.”
“Okay Roxy. Tomorrow, I promise. Gotta go, hubby is pounding on the door.”

“What are you doing? Your children are driving me crazy!”
“I’m sorry Carmelo. I was talking to a friend. I’ll be right there.”

Corrine put her computer to sleep and wasted two hours caring for her children before foisting them off on her sister for the rest of the day. Carmelo had left, to go and do who knew what, but Corrine was quite happy to see his BMW squealing out of the gate. Finally: Peace and quiet.

The blue spruces shuddered violently as if in the throes of orgasm. Lightning danced rapidly from the menacing flannel clouds approaching the homestead intent on rape. Heather Parks wrung her hands thinking of her horny husband Josh driving home in this terrifying weather. He’d been gone a week this time on business and despite nightly calls she constantly worried about the health of his penis. Her concern was a constant source of friction. Josh hated being ‘babied’ and Heather had fled in tears after many a blowjob. If only he would see what she needed, what she craved: he was oblivious to her! As the storm grew harsher so did Heather’s thoughts until the crashing thunder shook dust from the rafters. What if she never got a chance to suck on his hard cock ever again?

Josh pulled into the garage amidst hail as large as fists and rain so thick the wipers failed to keep up. He was trembling with fatigue and looked forward to a long, hot soapy shower – by himself. Heather was so needy lately! What was her problem? He was less than pleased to open the door and find Heather on her knees, warm mouth open and blue eyes pleading for his cock. He finally snapped. Grabbing her long blond hair in his calloused fingers he dragged her into the living room and threw her over the back of the couch. Whipping out his belt he proceeded to beat his wife on her rounded quivering bottom while she cried and begged the entire time. When her ass was covered with weals he threw down the belt, stalked to her head, yanked up her head and shoved his cock down her throat.

Heather was in shock. Where was the loving gentle man she’d married? Why was he doing this? Her ass was on fire and while it hurt, the pain was nothing compared to her broken heart. When he pulled out of her mouth she protested again but then he began to pound her pussy each thrust slapping her sore bottom. Heather felt her climax building, the storm continuing unabated, neither one noticing the lights failing or glass shattering. Rain driven by violent winds soaked them as Josh fucked Heather as hard as he could: not caring a whit for her needs. She screamed again, pain was creating pleasure and her soaking wet cunt flooded the cushions. She moaned and writhed until she felt Josh shooting his spunk deep inside.

“What the fuck? What the hell are you doing?”
“Carmelo! Stop that! You have no right! This is private!”
“The hell it is! No wife of mine is going to read this filth!”
“It’s not filth Carmelo! I wrote this for publication, for money!”
“You wrote this perverted trash for money? Money? You whore!”
Corrine slapped her angry husband. “How dare you call me a whore? I am the mother of your children and if I’m a whore then you’re a pimp!”
“You’ve gone too far this time Corrine. I’m the man in this house and I decide what my wife does.”
“Bullshit! I don’t have to take this crap from you! Let me go! I’ll call the police.”
“Fine Corrine, call, but first, I’m going to teach you some long overdue manners!”

Corrine felt herself rapidly thrown over her furious husband’s knees, dress tossed over her head and panties thrown on the floor. Carmelo’s large hand descended in rapid-fire order on her naked bottom punctuated by his stern lecture on proper behavior. Corrine squealed and bucked but her husband had little problems keeping her in her place. “I should have done this on our wedding night! You will obey me Corrine or I’ll spank you every day, twice a day for the rest of your life! Is that clear?”
“Yes sir!” Corrine choked out.

After more than half an hour of spanking, Carmelo threw his weeping wife on their bed and stalked out slamming the door behind him. Corrine reached back and gasped as she felt the heat pouring off her battered ass. Gingerly rolling over she swayed to the bathroom to observe the damage.

“Roxy? It’s Corrine. Don’t bother with ‘Over the top’. I’ve got a new story to write: ‘Disobedient and beaten wife’. Yeah, it’s personal, very personal.”