Sweating Uncontrollably

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

“I’m going to tell you what I have in mind,” he murmured. “First you’re going to strip down until you’re completely naked,” he whispered against her ear. “Then I’m going to tie you up so you’re completely powerless and subject to my every whim.” “Mmm, sounds good so far,” she murmured. “Then I’m going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it’s rosy with my marks.” She shivered uncontrollably, her mind exploding with the images he evoked. She let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth. God, she could cum with just his words. She was already aching with need. Her nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. Her clit pulsed and twitched between her legs until she clamped her thighs together to alleviate the burn. “And then I’m going to f**k your mouth. But I won’t cum. Not yet. When I’m close, I’ll flog you again until your ass is burning and you’re on fire with the need for relief. And then I’m going to f**k that ass. I’m going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won’t be gentle. Not tonight. I’m going to take you as roughly as you can stand. And then I’m going to cum all over your ass. Are you ready to be completely and utterly dominated?"

To retrieve the engagement ring my wife shared with her first love, she actually sent our five-year-old daughter into a haunted house alone. Terrified by the bloodstains inside, our daughter accidentally fell down the stairs. A steel rod pierced her stomach, and even in her final moments, she clung tightly to the ring, refusing to let go. I cradled her lifeless body, crying uncontrollably, and called my wife countless times. When she finally answered, she impatiently warned me, "Robert’s daughter is about to undergo heart transplant surgery. Stop causing trouble!" Devastated, I made another call. "Hello, this is Lily's father. I'm sorry, but we can no longer agree to the heart donation." If they were responsible for my daughter's death, they could forget about taking her heart!