Husband Spanking Wife Novels & Stories

Who isn't happy here ? Me Cansu isn't happy here because my husband doesn't love me. He keep telling me you are special but one can crushed someone's heart who is special in their life. His only headache is his business, his company , his position as CEO. "You are my husband then why she keep touching you, kissing you." "Don't be a brat .I have a dream and this position as CEO is important to me . Stop nagging like a stupid wife" "Now, I am a stupid wife . Is she good in bed or what?" "Control your tongue or ..." he hissed and in reply I slapped him. He jerked me into his body and kissed me hard. "No more kisses Mr. CEO" with saying I detached me from him and challenged him " I am your wife. Let's see who are you after fifteen days, her ceo or my husband?"

"Dear ex-wife, I want you back!" ~~~~~~~ Stacy, a strong and devoted wife, discovers the painful truth that her husband Nathan has been cheating on her with her best friend Rita. The betrayal strikes deep within her heart, and unable to tolerate the breach of trust, Stacy takes the brave decision to divorce Nathan, severing all ties with him. Life after the divorce proves to be a tumultuous journey for Stacy. With shattered dreams and a wounded spirit, she finds herself grappling with the challenges of starting anew. In the face of adversity, Stacy musters the courage to reinvent herself and discovers an unexpected path in the most vibrant city of dreams, Los Angeles. Drawn to the allure of the city's nightlife, Stacy finds solace and empowerment as a stripper in one of Los Angeles' premier clubs. With a newfound sense of freedom, she embraces her sensuality and unleashes her hidden talents on the stage, captivating the audience with her mesmerizing performances. The neon lights and pulsating music become her sanctuary, where she can momentarily forget the pain that still lingers in her heart. However, fate has a twisted sense of irony in store for Stacy. One fateful night, as she prepares to grace the stage with her magnetic presence, she receives an unexpected request: to strip for a VIP client. The name sends a chill down her spine, for it is none other than her ex-husband Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

On the day Raina Whitmore makes the Helios Rich List, she smiles for the cameras and declares, "I wouldn't be here without my secretary, Kieran Vale. He's the most important person in my life." While she confesses her love in the interview, I lie in a hospital bed, worn out and fading. I'm her husband, the one who's held her company together all these years. But I don't get a single word of thanks. My daughter, Talia Hart, even looks at me with pure disdain. "Dad, you've held Mom and Uncle Kieran back long enough. It's time you let go and let them be together." Rage surges through me. My chest tightens, and everything goes black. When I open my eyes, I'm back 30 years earlier, standing in the Whitmore residence to choose my fiancee. This time, I don't hesitate. I skip right over Raina and choose her aunt, Elara Whitmore.

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

"What is this? Are you dying anytime soon? How many days do you have left?” “I believe you know how to read clearly. Go through the results. I’m sure you will be the one leaving anytime soon.” She said confidently. I stared at her once more and proceeded to read the contents of the paper. “You are pregnant,” I said and she smiled. “Yes darling, and guess who my baby’s father is?” I shook my head at her disbelievingly and she nodded her head. “Yes, Eliott is the father of my unborn baby.” “Do you expect to believe such baseless accusations? I am not dumb, Emma. “I know it’s hard for you to believe but, Eliott never broke up with me. Did you think that all the excuses he gave were real? Even Elon Musk doesn’t have a schedule that’s as tight as that. He spent most of his time with me and that is how we made a baby.” She rubbed her abdomen and I chuckled hard. She was lying. She had to be. *** “Mr. Winconstin, your ex-wife is back!” I raised my head from the magazine I was reading. It was no news that Oleander was back in San Francisco. She took over her family's company and was bent on restoring it's lost glory. I should admit it, she never seemed like a business lady to me. “She didn't come alone.” I sat up. Has she moved on already? “She came back with two children and the boy is your carbon copy.” Instantly, blood filled my nose. Was she pregnant then? Why didn't she tell me? Why did she decide to keep my children away from me? “Get the car ready. We are heading to the Thayer's company immediately.”

Every woman has a dream wedding, but what happens if a girl has to get married only as a replacement for her lecturer lover who is lying in a coma? Anya is a poor girl who has to temporarily marry her professor who holds an ace card related to an incident that almost claimed her future. Getting married based on not liking each other or love for love, makes Anya have to endure suffering in her marriage. Will Anya be able to survive such a loveless marriage? Come on, follow the story of Anya the surrogate wife!

"Peter, should I go faster?" I was on my knees on the yoga mat, leaning forward, my hips moving in sharp, rapid motions. Meanwhile, my hands just kept working my chest, squeezing and rubbing. Behind me, the rest of the class just watched, their eyes fixed on the way my body moved. "Not bad. Keep that pace. Now let's move on to some hands-on practice." As soon as the instructor said that, he pulled off his pants and positioned himself beneath me.

After the plane crash, I rejected the captain—my brother-in-law’s—final life jacket that he had as he handed it to me. Instead, I allowed myself to plunge a hundred meters from the sky. In my previous life, I had survived after accepting his life jacket. But he died a tragic death in the crash. After his death, I was consumed with guilt. My husband proposed to take care of two households at the same time so that he could look after his sister-in-law. Out of guilt, I reluctantly agreed to his proposal. I even had to give up my only chance of getting promoted to department head of the hospital to my sister-in-law, upon my husband’s insistence. When I was seventy years old, I suddenly saw my brother-in-law, who was supposed to be dead, show up in front of me. He said to my husband, “Bro, thank goodness you came up with that fake-death plan back then. I was drunk and caused the deaths of all the passengers after the plane crash. If not for that plan of yours, as the captain, I certainly could not have escaped scot-free and would have been sentenced to prison for life! “It was too bad we had to keep her in the dark for her entire life.” After a lifetime of sacrifices, I was so furious that I nearly passed out upon hearing my brother-in-law’s words. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the plane crash.

After serving three years for a crime I didn't commit, I discovered the devastating truth on my release day: Chase Grayson, my husband, had divorced and betrayed me, marrying my younger sister. Worse still, he sold me to Axel Blackwood, a powerful and feared stranger. Heartbroken and trapped in Axel's world of secrets and lies, I faced a new prison that threatened to consume me.