89

Allison
I screech, laughing, as I careen into our bedroom. He stops at the doorway, breathing hard, and stares around him.
I gesture, catching my breath. “Well?”
He groans, closing his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking be kidding me.”
“You don’t like it?”
The place is draped in purple.
Absolutely drenched in a dozen shades of purple like a Teletubby got murdered.
Rugs, paintings, even the lampshade, all purple. Purple star-covered tulle hangs around the four-poster bed, which is done up in purple silk.
“You’re worse than I am. You’re deranged.”
“It’s royal,” I say defensively. “Purple’s a great color.”
“Come here.” He chases after me. I’m laughing hard, too hard to put up much of a fight, and he catches me by the ankle as I try to get away over the bed.
“You can’t really spank me!” I protest as he drags me over. I squirm, trying to get away, but his grip’s like iron and his face is twisted into a mask of determination.
“Damn right I can.”
“Gregory!” He unbuttons my pants and starts to peel them down. “I thought that was a figure of speech. You’re not really spanking me!”
He grunts in response, ignoring my protests. No matter how hard I twist or thrash, he keeps me pinned in his lap, my ass up, my pants down around my thighs. When he peels my panties off, my bare skin’s available for him, and I feel heat growing between my legs.
This is without a doubt the most exposed I’ve ever been.
And the most turned-on I’ve ever felt in my life.
“What in the freaking hell-” I start to say.
Until his palm silences me with a loud crack.
He whacks my ass so hard the sting’s like a lightning strike. I gasp, back arching in pure shock, but it quickly passes. I lay there panting, surprised by how much that hurt, but truly shocked by the sudden and intense desire growing between my legs.
I’m wet, and in about ten seconds, he’s going to feel it.
“I don’t joke about punishments,” he says slowly, enunciating each word. “I most certainly do not joke about spankings.”
“I see that,” I say, breathing hard as a sheen of sweat breaks out down my spine. “You did it. You spanked me. Time to let me go.”
“You’re far from finished, my sweet princess. You want to tease me? You want to make our room purple? All right, then I will spank your ass until it matches the sheets.”
“Gregory-” But he spanks me again before I can protest. Another two hard whacks right on my bare ass, and this time, he gently massages my cheeks, blending the sharp pain with a little bit of soothing pleasure. “Oh, fuck,” I say, groaning despite myself. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making me actually enjoy this, except I can’t control myself, not with his strong hands holding me down.
“You like it,” he says, not sounding surprised at all. “And now you will learn the extent of my tolerance.”
“Okay, I get it, you spanked me, you’re big and scary, can you just-”
Another spank. Another, and this time, my back’s arching as these whimpers escape my lips.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Oh, very good girl.” Another spank. Another. And when I think I can’t take more, he spanks me one last time-
Then buries his hand between my legs, cupping my soaking wet, burning hot pussy.
It’s too much. I melt in his lap. I moan, writhing my hips. My brain’s on autopilot, my body’s on lockdown. I can’t do anything but give myself over to this beast of a man.
This is not what I expected when I renovated our house.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan. “Oh my god, Gregory.”
“You’re dripping down my fingers, my beautiful wife,” he says, sounding truly delighted. “You’re so wet it’s obscene.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp as his fingers tease me. “This is your fault. I try to do something nice-”
“Don’t pretend like the decorations are for any other reason than to piss me off.” His fingers slowly sink inside of me and I gasp. “You feel stifled and trapped. You blame me for that. This is your way of lashing out.”
“Maybe,” I say, sucking in short, quick breaths between moans as his fingers fuck me, the pleasure mixing with the pain of my spanking, still hot on my cheeks. “But you also-fuck, god damn it-you also deserve it.”
“Just like you deserve this.” His fingers sink deeper, curling to tease my G-spot, and it throws me right against the edge of orgasm.
I push back against him, wanting more. I’m a mess of need and pleasure, and my brain’s barely working. “You’re a monster. You’re a beast.”
“Tell me to stop then. Ask me to stop fucking your lovely, tight, beautiful, wet pussy with my big fingers. Tell me to stop.”
“Keep going,” I moan, losing my mind. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Come for me then, princess,” he coaxes, fingers going faster. “Come for me and call me your husband. Say it, princess.”
“Husband,” I gasp, back arching, hips working. “You’re my husband, you bastard.”
And I come, a blinding explosion of pleasure. My muscles tense and spasm as sweat rolls down my spine, and god, it feels so perfect. I moan, saying it over and over, husband, husband, which only makes him work my pussy faster, until I can’t take anymore.
I roll off him, onto the purple bed. He watches as I curl into a ball, twitching as the orgasm aftereffects slowly fade away.
“Good girl,” he whispers, patting my bare, raw ass. “Now, come into the bathroom and let me soothe you. Hot water helps.”
“You’re insane.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re truly insane.” And I think I like it.
Will I get punished like this every time I act out?
He has to realize he’s only encouraging more bad behavior.
“Maybe, but it felt good, didn’t it?”
I nod, still not looking at him.
He doesn’t speak. I feel him get up off the bed, then I hear the bath water run. When I open my eyes, he’s standing and staring down at me with a strangely loving expression in his eyes.
“I’m not changing the colors,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Good.” His smile is wicked. “It’ll give me more excuses to spank you. Soak in the tub. I promise it will help with the pain.” With that, he turns and leaves.