Chloe stands in the centre of the room, back straight, hands clasped nervously, uncertain how matters might proceed.
Meanwhile, her partner slowly paces around, an inquisitorial tone in his voice, leather paddle in hand. This is not how Chloe expected events to pan out. Hadn’t she played the dutiful corporate wife – what an anachronism – to perfection: dressed up, accompanied her husband to a boring work event, and attempted to charm his boss?
Since Chloe never drinks, there’d been no prospect of a booze-fuelled faux pas, and Dexter’s MD seemed very taken with her, just as well, since the mid-afternoon soiree was at his house. Chloe was flirtatious and fun throughout, her artfully chosen attire displaying the delights of her shapely figure. Dexter’s male colleagues were, just as she intended, considerably impressed. His female workmates not so much.
She’d continued this coquettish behaviour on the way home, confident he’d be unable to keep his hands off her when they crossed the threshold. Chloe needs a strong man to keep her in line and eagerly anticipated a sexual reward for wowing his fellow workers. Perhaps in retrospect, she’d overdone the outfit a bit? Dexter is currently extremely cross; apparently, there’s a problem to be resolved, specifically the tight top and short skirt.
“With these boobs, there’s not much point in trying to hide them,” she points out, not unreasonably.
“It was my employer’s party, not dinner a Deux,” he responds tersely.
“High-necked, no cleavage,” she ventures, aware her tenuous defence is already crumbling.
“So close-fitting your nipples show.”
“You always said it was my legs that most attracted you,” Chloe replies petulantly, unsuccessfully trying to change the subject.
“And everyone saw plenty of them,’ Dexter is not for turning, “plus everything else on show.”
“Nobody complained,” shrugs Chloe, “no problem, so long as I stood still.”
“Twirl,” he commands brusquely.
Sensing this isn’t the moment to protest further, Chloe complies, gracefully pivoting on ankle strap heels, the offending garment flaring out to reveal black stocking tops and a flash of blue satin knickers.
“Well, yes,” Chloe concedes, belatedly conscious of how much she’s revealing.
“And when you bent forward to pick up your soda from the coffee table…” Despite her predicament, Chloe giggles at the naughty recollection.
“That did seem popular.”
“You knew.” Dexter pounces, “I thought so, after all, you’ve previously acted with this sort of provocative behaviour.”
“Aren’t you proud of your wife?” Chloe sulks.
“Extremely, and also protective – to the extent of mediating your worst excesses when required.”
“Meaning what?” Like she doesn’t know.
“Women who outrageously expose themselves deserve punishment.”
“With that?” She looks nervously at the paddle. From previous experience, Chloe is all too aware the bloody thing stings like hell.
“With this,” Dexter confirms, slapping it loudly against his hand.
“Now?”
“Absolutely, expect a hot, sore bottom.”
“And afterward…” Clinging on to hope.
“We’ll see how contrite you are,” growls Dexter, “start by holding up that ridiculously short skirt.”
Chloe immediately complies, feeling vulnerable but secretly pleased to flash her firm derriere. Her spouse applies the paddle vigorously to both jiggling buttocks, alternating from cheek to cheek, causing his wantonly displayed wife to dance animatedly on the spot.
“Knickers off and legs apart,” commands the master of her universe. She scrambles to obey, not wishing to annoy him further.
“Oh no!” exclaims Chloe as Dexter applies the leather paddle to her tender thighs.
“We’ll see how lovely those legs look with some red marks,” he observes, enjoying his wife’s subjugation. “Now, kneel on the sofa and push that naughty rear out.”
Considerably chastened, Chloe grasps the upper cushions tightly as her poor buttocks are paddled until the generous curves positively glow. Unable to keep still, despite Dexter’s restraining hand, she yelps and wriggles.
Chloe’s bounteous boobs bounce enticingly throughout: pussy gaping, labia swollen, pudenda damp with unsated arousal. Dexter is tempted to slide his tongue down her lust-slicked slit, but, instead, pursues a more urgent need.
“Bottom up,” he rasps.
Expecting further punishment, Chloe is about to plead for mercy when she discovers her beau has other plans. His cock slides easily into her achingly empty cunt. Dexter pauses to let them both catch a breath before thrusting deeper and commencing the fucking she urgently needs. Chloe rocks back and forth in unison, moaning as his thick rod stretches her pussy.
“Please,” Chloe whimpers in a strained voice, “I’ve been good, finish me off.” Her husband obliges, holding her hips, pumping furiously. Inwardly convulsing, outwardly trembling, an orgasm overwhelms her in a passionate release. Eyes half closed, mouth soft, she weakly enquires, “Did you come?”
“Not yet; you rather got ahead of me.”
“I’ll say,” she says, panting and wet. Gently disengaging from the still rigid shaft, she slides to the floor. “I’ve wanted to do this for ages,” Chloe murmurs, taking Dexter into her welcoming mouth and sucking him to climax. Cradling his balls while expertly encompassing Dexter’s throbbing shaft, he’s soon past the point of no return. She tries to swallow it all, but there’s a surfeit of pent-up come to contain. His jizz leaks down her chin and spills onto Chloe’s impressive cleavage and erotically spatters her nylon-clad thighs.
Dexter knows full well the minx has connived to ensure her own spanking. It’s happened before and, if Chloe has anything to do with it will again. A prediction confirmed when – as if reading his thoughts – she licks her lips and whispers seductively. “What a wicked woman I am. Next time you’ll have to use a cane…”
