Wife Spanks Me Novels & Stories

I stated the obvious "You are not allowed to forget that you are my wife, even when you are unconscious. The only name that you are going to moan, day and night is only mine." He grabbed my butt with his large palm as if he owned it. "I will take care of that from now on, but for now, let me go, please." I wanted to get free from this grip as soon as possible because the thing he was doing was painful and humiliating at the same time. I am not a kid; he would spank me. When I thought that he would Now listen to me, I heard him clicking his tongue against his cheek. "I can't let this thing go unpunished!"

She winced as she landed, immediately struggling to rise, but I held her firmly in place. She cried out, writhing over my knees. I yanked her waist in close, pinning her down as I delivered a sharp spank to her buttocks, provoking a scream from her. "You lack manners, it seems your father hasn’t been doing his job properly," I scolded. "I will take it upon myself to give you the discipline you need, because it seems you haven’t been spanked in your life, just a little reminder of who’s boss around here."

A few days later, I get a flat on the way to work and I get a spanking from him for being late that time. I guess what I’m saying is that I get five more spankings and I deserve each one. I weep and cry and it hurts like hell and my clit rubs against his jeans and adds conflicting feelings of pleasure and everything else. I get these spankings and I hate them but they’re somehow reassuring to me. Jackson is keeping his word to me and he’s being my discipline as I learn self-discipline.

I spanked her four times. "Where?” "Plant under my window.” "Good girl. Now count to ten,” I said as I spanked her continuously. " Seven” she moaned, grinding her pussy against my thigh. "Ten,’’ she said finally. I rub my hands over her ass and then slide down to her soaking pussy. So my wife gets off on pain, huh. I rub her clit gently then sink a finger inside her.

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and make you happy as long as it doesn't involve letting you go. I don't care what you think in that little mind of yours, but there's no option for you other than being my wife." Another spank. It was so painful that I caught my breath in a gasp, the immediate shock rushing through every cell in my body. I twisted around, kicking out with my shoes, trying to move away. He put one knee on my left thigh, pinning me even more tightly so that I couldn’t even wriggle, and the spank came down unforgivingly on my ass again and again. The sting spread across my ass cheeks, making them pound in severe pain.

“Argh!” I was instantly frightened and infuriated, the blood rushing through my head almost driving me crazy. It took me a moment to get myself back, and stop the illusion of spinning stars hovering my head. “What the fuck Wilson? Why did you spank my ass twice??!!” I shouted at him, rubbing my ass to soothe the pain. His face beamed widely in an evil way and I sensed that something was fishy. “The first spank was punishment for marrying another man and the second one is a message to your husband.”

He grabs my hips and pulls my ass up in the air and slams back into me from behind without warning. The angle is devastating. His cock hitting a different spot, deeper, and sharper. He spanks me, and the crack rings in the air. The sting blooms and races to my clit. "Yes!" I moan. "Again. Harder!" "You like being spanked in your home," he says, slapping my ass again. "While your husband is on a business trip?" "I love it," I cry out pathetically. "I love every second of it. Spank me again, Tyler."

In that case, I guess you deserve thirty spanks,” he said and my eyes widened in shock. There was no way I could take thirty spanks again. The last time he did that, my ass cheeks were burning for days. I couldn't sit or sleep properly, and even simple tasks became impossible for me. I didn't want a return of that, so even though I feared him I tried to speak against it.

I ordered, spanking her cheeks hard—left, right, alternating until they glowed crimson, the handprints blooming like brands. She complied with a whimper, pushing her ass higher, her face buried in the couch cushions. "Spank me more, Alexander—punish me for being late today, for making you wait!" she pleaded, her voice muffled but desperate. I smirked, the memory of her tardiness fueling my strikes. Each slap echoed like a gunshot, her skin jiggling, her cries growing louder. "Yes! Harder—make it sting! I'm sorry, sir—I'll never be late again!"

“You wouldn’t put me down! You’ve hit me plenty of times—so what if I hit you twice?” His eyes darkened, sharp with a dangerously calm fury. He gripped my jaw, his fingers rough but not painful. “Spanking,” he said slowly, mockery dripping from every syllable, “is a form of sexual suggestion. Is this how you plan to handle our divorce?” My breath caught. Sexual? My cheeks flamed. “That’s ridiculous!” I protested. “You started it! You were spanking me for years—since I was fifteen! How is it discipline when you do it, but something else when I do?”