Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

SWISH! SNAP!

The shrill cry echoed around them as Cynthia's body jerked. The loop he'd made out of the switch had caught her simultaneously on the bottom and the top of her curved cheeks. She pressed herself hard against the tree, her body instinctively trying to get away from the painful, stinging implement.

SWISH! SNAP!

Fortunately there was a branch on the other side of the fallen tree that she could grab onto, holding onto it for dear life to keep herself from reaching behind and trying to cover her bottom. If she risked her hands in such an endeavor, Wesley would be furious. He loved her cries of pain, but only when it pertained to torment that he was purposefully inflicting.

SWISH! SNAP!

The thin red lines on Cynthia's bottom, combined with her mournful cries, were making Wesley's cock throb with need. Fuck she was gorgeous like this, bent over and vulnerable, taking the punishment that they both knew she deserved, that she craved even as she cried out in pain. Every time a blow landed, her pussy clenched.

The thin welts burned, stinging at her skin like angry bees, drawing sobs and tears from her, despite the dark need that welled inside of her. Wesley was careful not to overlap the lines too much, taking his time to ensure that he didn't draw blood as he laid a delicate tracery of welts across her bottom. They almost looked like lace, as they crossed each other.

When he finally stopped, Cynthia's legs were trembling and almost her entire weight was being supported by the fallen tree. She was lost in a haze of sensual need and erotic pain, and she had no idea how much time had passed before he was suddenly pushing into her pussy. Moaning, she wanted to lift her hips to meet him, but her legs were too weak. It burned when his body pressed against her body, shoving her hard against the tree. Her skirts protected her tender skin from being scraped by the bark, but there was nothing to protect her welted bottom from the rasping of Wesley's body against it.

She cried out, shuddering in ecstasy as he pumped his hips, fucking her hard and fast. Since their wedding night, Wesley had taken her in all manner of different positions, but this was one of her favorite. Bent over and taken from behind, feeling his cock sliding inside of her, over the sweet spot, as his hands dug into her hips. Somehow she felt his domination even more like this than when she was tied face-up to the bed.

Pulling out, his cock covered in her juices, Wesley pressed his cock against the tight rosebud of her anus.

"Oh no, please!"

Cynthia's face heated as her rear channel opened for him. It hurt as her muscles stretched. He didn't take her back there often enough for her to truly become accustomed to it, enjoying the struggle every time he did. So she also never really quite got used to the shame of enjoying such a perverse act. Deep down, she knew she loved it, but that just made her blush more furiously, protest more adamantly. If Wesley ever stopped taking her in this manner, she would miss it, but she couldn't admit that, not even to herself.

"Ow, ow, ow," she muttered as he pushed deeper, not heeding her plea. It took her breath away every time he sank into her ass for the first stroke, making her feel so full, like there wasn't room in her body for air. "I wasn't that bad... it was just a race!"

"Which was whose idea?" Wesley asked, holding her hips tightly as he watched her crinkled anus stretching around his cock, all of the little wrinkles smoothing out to accommodate his girth. Her silence confirmed his supposition. "So not only did you get your friends into trouble, but then you ran from me." His voice lowered, growing gruffer as his cock was engulfed fully into her ass. Holding still for a moment, feeling the spasms of her tight sheathe around him, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I think you deserve a little bad girl sex, don't you?"

She moaned, half in denial, half in pleasure, as he began to drag his cock back out of her body. Clinging to the branch on the other side of the trunk, she suddenly realized that this might be why she liked this position so much. Because whenever he took her from behind, she wasn't just out of control, she was completely vulnerable to him. He could play with her anus all he wanted and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Her pussy dripped as he began to fuck her ass, hard enough to make her squeal and yelp, the burning friction fighting with her rising pleasure. Every slap of his body against her bottom made her cheeks jiggle, the stinging welts feeling like they were flaming brands tracing her skin.

The overwhelming sensations were making her toes curl as a rising tide of ecstasy began to overtake the effects of her punishment. Her ass clenched and spasmed as his cock slid over that sweet spot from the other side, making her gasp and cry out, writhing before him as he impaled her over and over again. Cynthia's sobbing breaths were interspersed with Wesley's grunts as he ravished her aching bottom, skillfully pulling her from stinging pain to abject pleasure.

Their combined shouts of climax echoed through the woods around them. Cynthia clawed at the fallen tree as she came, her tight ass milking Wesley's cock, sucking his hot jets of cream deep into her body.

When they returned to the Manse, it was on foot, leading their hoses by hand, in deference to Cynthia's painful rear. They walked between the horses, holding hands all the way.

******

"Out," Edwin ordered as he handed over the horses. "Take them for a long walk to cool down," he said to the young groom who took the reins. The rest of the stable staff had already scattered at his command.

Shifting back and forth on nervous feet, Eleanor tucked her hands into her skirt, anxiously fisting the fabric as she waited for his attention to come back to her. It returned after the door to the stables were closed, his dark, furious gaze making her tremble a bit. But this was what she wanted... his attention. His discipline. His recognition that she was able to act as his wife again. That she wanted to. Needed to.

"What were you thinking?" His question cut through the air, sharp and heavy with frustration.

Eleanor tilted her chin up, knowing that her stubborn pose never failed to needle him. "I was thinking that I deserved to have some fun."

"Fun? Fun? You think risking your health and safety is fun?" He advanced on her, his jaw clenched, eyes glittering with anger. It was rather sweet how protective he was of her, or it would be if it wasn't so damned frustrating as well. Hiding her smile, she rolled her eyes instead. Baiting the boar.

"My health is fine - as I've told you - and I was perfectly safe. I'm a very good rider and I know these lands like the back of my hand."

For a moment his jaw worked soundlessly, as if he was trying to get out an argument but was having trouble thinking of one. Stopping his advancement about a foot away from her, she could practically see the thoughts churning in his head. Holding her breath, she prayed that he would come to the right conclusion. If he didn't, she wouldn’t be liable for what she did next. Kicking him would be the least of it.

"Your health is fine." The flat statement didn't sound at all like a question, but she answered anyway.

"Yes."

"You think you're fully recovered."