Chapter 1

"You're asking for it."

Linda didn't pay her husband's words any mind. He had been spouting similar ones for the last two years of their marriage and had never done more than that. He was all talk and no show. Many a time Linda wished that he would do more than just talk.

"If you can't keep your hands to yourself, I'll just leave you home from now on. Why in the hell did you make a pass at my boss?"

"Because he's cute."

"Cute? My God, Linda, don't you know I'm in danger of losing my job? And you come on to Bill like some whore. What do you think that will do to my chances of staying around?"

"Most likely, it will help your chances. He's got the hots for me, or haven't you noticed with your sniffing around Clara's skirts all day? Besides, he's the type of guy that goes out and gets what he wants. Hell, his wife did everything but kneel at his feet today."

"Damn it, Linda, I've taken about all I'm gonna take from you. Your ass is gonna pay."

"Sure it will, Tom. It's going to get tired of sitting around while you make something of your life. Did it ever occur to you that you don't have the balls to do well in your job? Or your marriage? Or in your relationships with others? Hell, if you've got the hots for Clara, why don't you do something about it instead of harping on me? Hell, fuck her and get it over with. She'd probably love you cock and willingly spread her legs to allow entry. But that's the only way it will happen. You sure as hell won't force yourself on her because you don't have the balls for that. Or for much else either, in fact."

Tom will never know what made him snap just then, but to this day he has never regretted it. His wife had no more than gotten the word 'fact' out of her mouth than his hand connected with it.

Linda's head snapped sideways, slammed into the window and bounced off it like a kid's rubber ball. With the pain of the blow to her mouth and the ringing in her head it took her a moment to realize that her lip was bleeding. AND her cunt was dripping.

She had intentionally married the soft-spoken Tom Wilson because of an overbearing father who had ruled his family with an iron hand. But after two years of tender loving care with Tom, she had come to the conclusion that she was very similar to her mother. She wanted a strong-willed man in her life and had recently been pushing him beyond his breaking point to see what he would do. Now she knew. And loved it.

"I'm sorry, honey. You're right, I shouldn't have come on to your boss like that. And you were right to hit me for it." Damn her cunt was a swamp. The main question though was, would that one hit be it?

"Damn right you deserved it. You've turned into a veritable bitch lately and it's time something was done about it."

As the heat of the moment passed Tom finally realized what had happened. Not just hitting his wife, but her reaction to that hit. As he drove the remaining miles home his mind was working over what had happened and he began to think real hard.

Linda had been a different person in the last three months. In fact since they had come back from visiting her folks she had been a real bitch. It was almost... Yea, almost like she was begging to be punished.

But when they were in Nebraska she had toed the line. Her father had seen to that. She didn't sass back, or complain, or bitch about him not providing for her like she had before they drove out there. And since they had come back to New York it was like she was daring him to do something about her actions.

Well, he had finally done something. He had hit her, and she had said that he had the right to do that. Was that it? Did she want him to be like her father?

Well, one way to find out. Turning to face his wife, he said, "Get your ass in the back seat. You don't deserve to ride with me." Would she do it?

He saw her green eyes widen. Saw her sudden intake of breath. Saw her tongue flick out and lick a dot of blood off. And then he saw her lower her eyes as if in submission.

"Yes, Tom," were her only words as she unfastened the seat belt and turned around in the seat. Because she had a dress on she couldn't step over the seat, so she went head first. Which naturally left her ass on the top of the front seat before her legs could follow, and he couldn't resist. As her ass slid over the front seat he gave her ass a swat. That swat seemed to have frozen her. Her ass remained over the top of the seat as if begging for another one to land. He didn't know if it was that or the simple fact that he had startled her into immobility, but he didn't take the chance. He hit her ass again before he added, "Move it."

"Yes, Tom," came her reply as she finally slid the rest of her body over the seat, squirmed around and sat in the middle of the back seat.

"Not on the seat. Get your ass on the floor where you belong. Now."

He watched in the mirror in amazement as again she complied as she slid out of view. He heard her clothes rustle around as she indeed laid down on the floor of the back seat as ordered.

Ordered? Was that it? Was that what she had been looking for him to do? Order her around like her father did her mom? Was that what she had been hoping he would do for the last three months? Was that why she had been acting like a bitch? Was all of that her way of asking him to take charge? Like her father?

"How are you laying?"

"I'm... I'm on my back."

"Wrong. You belong on your stomach. Move it."

"Yes, Tom."

The next thing he heard was the rustle of her clothes again as she rolled over. Ass up on the back floor of the car as he sped down the highway. Well, hell, let's see how far he could go. "Your ass had better be pointed toward the ceiling."

"It... it is Tom."

"And it had better be bare."

"Bare?"

"Yea, bare ass naked. Move it, or you'll be real sorry when we get home." Tom listened. She didn't say anything, but a few seconds later he again heard her clothes moving around. "Are you bare ass naked yet?"

"Ya... yes."

"Prove it. Stick your ass up in the air so I can feel it." His cock was threatening to break out of his slacks as he brought his hand over the top of the seat and lowered it.

Before he had stretched as far as possible his hand encountered flesh. He turned his hand a bit, felt the crack of her ass, then gave it a gentle pat before he brought his hand up and then brought it back down as hard as possible.

A slight gasp from his wife was her only response. So he did it again. "Did you deserved that?"

"Yes, Tom. I deserved it."

"Damn right. Just keep your ass there. If someone happens to see it, you deserve that too, don't ya?"

"I... yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Tom."

"Wrong. My name is Sir. Isn't it?"

"Yes... sir."

"That's more like it. Make sure you remember it."

"Yes, sir."

That time she said it much faster. Almost. Almost as if she meant it. As if she wanted him to make her say it.

Ten minutes later he was pulling into the garage. His wife's ass was still waving in the air. He had checked it as they pulled into their small subdivision just to make sure she didn't lower it when Mr. Johnson yelled "HP as they drove by. There was little doubt that Johnson had seen his wife's ass because Johnson's eyes had almost popped out of his head before he gave Tom a very approving smile.

Tom pushed the garage door button and the door closed behind his car as he sat there for a moment thinking, his hand still resting on his wife's ass.

He had three months, no make that two years, to make up for. And now seemed the time to start making it up. His wife was bare assed. She hadn't argued since he had hit her mouth. In fact he could hear her heavy breathing. She did want this. She really did want him to be the boss. And after the way she had been acting, especially today at the company picnic, she was going to get it. In spades. "Don't move until I tell you to. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Well, she had sure answered that, and quickly, so what few doubts he still had were erased. He got out of the car and walked into their house, leaving his wife precisely as she had been for the last twenty minutes or more-naked ass pointing in the air. He had plans for that ass. Yes indeed, he did.

Walking through the house Tom saw more evidence of her recent neglect. Or was it her recent silent plea for discipline? Whatever, he wasn't going to take her shit anymore. No siree.

Making his way to the living room, seeing more evidence of her lack of responsibilities, he stopped short as he saw the high-backed chair covered with his shirts that needed to be ironed.

That sight gave him an idea. Tugging his shirt out of his pants he quickly made his way to their bedroom, opened the closet, grabbed a handful of neckties, and went back downstairs, then to the garage.

The garage door opener light was still burning, which made it easy to see that Linda was still in place. God, what a sight! Walking to the passenger side, he opened the back door. Leaning in, he gave her ass a hefty swat. A slight gasp, a rocking back and forth on her knees and then utter stillness were her only responses. So he hit her ass again. She gave the same responses, but this time he could see his handprint on her white skin.

"Get your ass in the living room, and it had better be visible the entire distance."

Tom watched in amazement as Linda more-or-less crawled out of the car, feet and ass first. As soon as her feet touched the cement floor her hands came behind her to hold her skirt at her waist. Her hair was one hell of a mess. As she turned to walk into the family room she left her scent in her wake. The scent of an aroused female. She smelled hot to trot.

Tom followed her all the way to the living room, watching his handprint twitch and wiggle the entire distance as she kept her skirt around her waist the whole way. She stopped in the middle of the room.

"What's that?"

For the first time since leaving the car, Linda looked at her husband and saw his finger point at a pile of unironed shirts thrown across the back of the high-backed wooden chair that her father had given them last Christmas. It seemed like a ridiculous question to her. "It's your shirts."

"Right. And why are they there?"

"Because... I haven't ironed them."

"Again correct. But tell me, how long have they been there?"

"About five days."

"And when did I ask you to iron them for me?"

"I... I don't remember."

"I do. It was four days ago. I wanted that blue and white one for a sale's meeting. And it is still there, decorating our living room instead of what I wanted. And what about that mess? It's been there for three days. Just take a look around you. What do you see? I'll tell you, you see one hell of a messy house."

"And as of now it. will stop. This place will be kept clean or you won't be able to sit on your lazy ass all day loafing. So right now, go over to that chair, remove the shirts then place yourself over the back of the chair, ass up."

To be truthful Linda had conflicting thoughts and emotions. In a sense she was angry, because she didn't like to be criticized in any manner. But she had done as he had said. She did look around and the room, hell the whole house, was a mess. Part of her wanted to fight back, to stand up for herself. But another part was silently applauding him for finally acting like a man. But her most obvious response was horniness.

Feeling a bit foolish, she walked to the shirt draped chair and took the shirts to set them aside, but was interrupted by his word, "I can't see your ass."

Quickly, she place the shirts in one hand and raised her skirt again with the other. She placed the shirts on another chair then walked back to the high-backed one. A quick look at Tom, seeing his expression, she nervously bent over the back of the chair. Ass high and precisely on top, as she stood on her toes and placed her hands on the chair arms. She felt like a two year old. A very horny two year old.

Tom was still amazed. He still found it hard to believe her actions, or his for that matter. But something in him had change and it would never be the same. It was a totally new life-plan that was taking shape.

Walking over to Linda, he sat down in the chair and leaned back. "Lick and kiss my ears while I tie your hands to the chair."

It was a simple statement, but oh the implications. As they were almost face to face it was easy for both of them to observe the other. Tom's eyes showed challenge. Linda's showed submission. And as she brought her tongue and lips to his right ear she flattened her wrists as much as possible on the arms of the chair as he sat sideways, offering up his ear but more importantly turning so he could tie her hands to the arms of the chair with his neckties.

When he was finished tying her wrists he turned to face her. Eye to eye, he asked, "You deserve a spanking, don't you? Not just for flirting with Bill, but for all of your recent behavior?"

He watched her, hell it was impossible not to considering how close they were to each other. Her face turned red in embarrassment. Maybe from her submissive position, but he thought it was most likely because of her reluctance to admit her errors.

But as he continued to stare in her eyes he saw her change. Her eyes could no longer look in his, as she seemed to stare at his lips a shutter ran through her as she said, "Yes, I deserve it."

"Is that how I told you to answer me?"

A puzzled look crossed her face, then it turned an even deeper red as she added, "Sir."

"Right." He reached up and pulled her hair away from her face, forcing her to look at him again as he said, "Now to tie your legs to the chair and begin your spanking. Right?"

A whispered, "Yes, sir," a lowering of her head and a slight body shutter were her responses as Tom rose to walk to the side of the chair. Bending down to wrap a tie around her ankle and the chair leg there was little doubt in his mind that Linda's cunt was dripping with arousal. By the time he finished tying her other ankle to the chair he could see a small trickle of woman juice oozing out of her cunt and start a path down her leg heading toward her knees wrapped in her underpants.

Standing up he walked to the stereo, tuned it to a hard rock station and turned it up high. Then back to Linda, "What do you deserve?"

Even over the loud music he heard her say, "A spanking.", but he wanted more. "Say it louder, bitch. What do you deserve?"

"I deserve a spanking, sir," came loud to his ears over the blaring music.

"Do you deserve to have your ass beat? Let me hear you say it."

"Yes. I deserve to have my ass beat, sir."

"Yes you do, and I'm gonna do it, and you're gonna keep screaming it out. I want Johnson to be able to hear you shout it. And if it isn't loud enough for him to hear it, I'll invite him over to witness it to make sure he can. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," was her very loud answer as her ass twitched over the chair. Standing beside her Tom brought his hand down on her ass with a smacking clap. Instantly her ass turned red with his handprint as her shocked silence greeted him.

"I can't hear you. Should I leave now to get Johnson?"

A moment later her voice screamed over the blaring music. "I deserve to get my ass beat. Beat my ass."

Again he brought his hand down, picking a different spot.

"Beat my ass. I deserve to have it beaten."

And so it was. He used his hand again and again as her shouted words overlapped the music from the stereo and Tom wouldn't have been surprised if Johnson had been able to hear her.

Twenty-five. Forty. Then fifty times his hand landed. Her ass was beet red, her voice was cracking from overuse. Tears were running down her face splashing onto the chair cushion and cunt juice was coating her legs before he finally stopped, tore open his zipper and crammed his cock up her snatch as his fingers dug into her blouse and bra covered tits.

He grunted and groaned. She begged and pleaded for more.

Somewhere along the line Linda gave up her struggle with her pride. Her body and mind easily won over her pride as she at first admitted to herself that she was were she wanted to be.

Then as if some barrier had been ripped away, she totally committed herself to the erotic feelings that were being released from her, and she truly began to believe that she did indeed deserve to be punished, or rewarded as the case may be. And her screaming words proclaimed to all within hearing that she indeed deserved to be spanked and beaten by her husband for her misdeeds.

When his cock jammed up her swollen cunt she truly believed that she had received her just reward. Tom's cock was harder than she ever remembered it being and the forceful strokes that slammed into her sent her over the top again and again before he deposited his cream in her saturated swamp.

When Tom could force his legs to move him, he stumbled over to the couch and flopped down. The sweat was pouring off him. His hand was sore as hell, and he was gasping for air.

When he finally opened his eyes, what did he see? Linda. Linda draped over the back of the chair. Her hands and ankles tied to the chair. Her cunt was pressed into the top rung of the chair as if seeking the source of life. Her red ass was twitching in her afterglow as their combined juices were dribbling down her legs to be absorbed in her rolled panties. In fact a very appealing sight indeed.

A sight that he intended to enjoy more, as he reached over to the control, turned off the stereo and turned on the TV to watch the late night news. And it must be said, he watched his wife as much or more than the tube.

When the news was over he untied her and without being told she held her skirt at waist level the entire way to their bedroom. As Tom closed the door behind them, Linda turned around, grabbed him around the neck and drove their lips together in a passion that startled him.

But he quickly recovered as he squeezed her to him as his hand pulled up her skirt and felt her heated ass. Very few atom particles could have been present between their bodies as he realized that he wanted to fuck his wife again.

Within seconds they were naked upon the bed and again he was buried deep within her as they tore into each other with an almost overwhelming passion that had been missing from their lives for ages.