Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

"Ginger," he said amiably as he switched sides of the chair so that he could tie her hands in front of her, lashing her wrists together.

His brown eyes were hungry as he gazed into hers. The way he soaked in her expression, she knew that he was enjoying every flash of discomfort that went over her face. The thing in her bottom was making her squirm and wriggle as she tried to get away from the burn, but it just hurt worse as her bottom tightened around it.

"Just relax, baggage," he murmured, stroking his fingers over her cheek and bringing her attention back to him. "It will hurt worse when you tighten your ass around it. I want your sweet little bottom to be nice and relaxed when I birch you, this will help."

Help? This was meant to help? Cynthia opened her mouth to protest, but he leaned forward and caught her lips with his. The kiss was aggressive, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and muffling her words. One hand slid through her hair, tilting her head back at an almost uncomfortable angle so that he could have complete access to her lips. The other slid under her front as she felt his finger sliding into the neckline of her dress, reaching down to squeeze her breasts.

Her pussy was creaming, even with the embarrassment of having ginger stuck up her bottom and burning her up inside. Perhaps she even liked it. Not that she had a choice either way. Being tied up like this meant that there was nothing she could do, and that did help a bit with her humiliation, even though she still didn't like him touching that area, much less shoving things into it.

But she submitted to his kiss, relaxing the way he wanted her to, and the tingling burn did lessen as her ass unclenched from around the ginger plug. He'd told the truth.

When he released her, she felt almost dizzy from the myriad of sensations. Not to mention lack of air due to his thorough kissing.

So the first slash of the birch across her pink arse came as a shock. It was like a thousand tiny bees stinging into her flesh, and her bottom tightened around the ginger and she shrieked twice as loud as the burning spread both inside and out. When it came down again, she heard the swish through the air before it landed across her bottom, stinging and slashing at her skin.

She arched and jerked so hard that the chair actually moved for a moment, panicking her as she thought she would fall over with the heavy thing on top of her. The Earl had quickly settled the heavy piece of furniture back down, and his hand tapped against her bottom.

"Hold still, sweetheart, you have eight more to go."

Cynthia moaned. Eight?! She cursed herself for even wondering what a birching would be like; Eleanor and Irene had been right, it was awful! "Please, I've learned my lesson, please Wesley, no more!"

If Wesley had actually thought she was telling the truth, he would have been more tempted to stop. But a birching wasn't going to truly harm Cynthia, and he didn't miss the way her pussy was still glistening with her juices. In fact, he thought they might have actually grown. Her pussy lips were quite plump, her bottom dancing as it clenched around the fiery ginger and then immediately released again.

THWAP!

The short, sharp scream she emitted was as furious as it was pained. Her bottom clenched and danced, the sharp red welts across the pink skin standing out as they swelled.

THWAP!

Another scream and more tugging at her restraints... and then she finally submitted. It had only taken four strokes for her to let go and sink into herself. Even though she screamed again when the birch came down, it was different. Her bottom didn't clench as much around the ginger. There was an acceptance to her tone, as well as sincerity when she cried out again that she was sorry.

THWAP!

THWAP!

Wesley gave her a moment between each stroke, not just to gather herself, but also to extend the anticipation. Naughty girls needed time to reflect on why they were being punished and think about how they were going to behave in the future.

THWAP!

The stroke caught her across her plump pussy lips, eliciting a shriek that was even higher and more piercing than the ones that came before. The red welt across them made her folds swell even more, but Wesley didn't miss how her juices had started to coat her upper thighs. The more he punished her, the more his bride creamed. Cupping his cock, he gave her an extra moment before laying down the tenth stroke, as he squeezed his erection tightly to relieve some of the ache in his balls.

THWAP!

Her sobs were of relief as she slumped down in the chair, her bottom streaked with the evidence of her birching. The enticing rump was high up in the air, propped up by the arm of the chair, while her face burrowed into the seat. With her legs spread apart and restrained, her cunt gaped at him, as if begging him to slide in as he admired his handiwork.

But that would have to wait till tomorrow.

Wesley removed the ginger from her anus, coating his fingers in a soothing balm which he then slid into her ass. It amused him to watch as she squirmed and whimpered, more unsettled by the feeling of his fingers in her arsehole than she had been by the birching.

Because it felt good. Cynthia didn't want it to feel good. She didn't welcome the coolness that came from the balm as his fingers plumbed her depths, making the roasted skin of her cheeks feel even hotter by comparison. It had hurt, far more than a spanking had, and yet she had that same aching hot need that made her want to rub her pussy. Or have the Earl rub her pussy. Damn him for choosing the wrong hole! Damn him even more for making it enjoyable.

"What do bad girls get, Cynthia?" he asked, his voice a low purr as his fingers thrust back and forth in her ass, twisting and making her whimper as the abused hole spasmed. "Where do naughty girls get fucked?"

"Noooo... please..." She covered her face with her hands, the bindings on her wrists rubbing against her chin. The Earl was going to put his cock in her arse again and, even though it was wrong, she knew that when he did, she was going to cum. Why couldn't he do it the right way? The way other men wanted to?

His fingers delved deep and spread, stretching her and making her pant as her pussy clenched emptily. Part of her knew that her reaction was why he insisted on making this an aspect of her punishment. But she couldn't help the feelings of embarrassment and shame that washed over her as he played with her most private area, knowing that he was going to shove his large cock into it, and make her climax even though she didn't want to. The whole thing would be much less humiliating if she didn't enjoy it, to be honest.