Four Hours Late

My wife and I lead a bit of a double life. In our public, day to day life, she's a women's studies professor at a nearby liberal arts college and I'm one of the lead doctors at a women's health clinic. By every appearance, we're a progressive, modern couple who cares about feminism and equality between the sexes. And we are. Except you'd never know that looking inside our marriage. Early into dating, we both discovered we had a fetish for male dominance and female submission both in and out of the bedroom, and it turned into a rather extreme and kinky version of traditional gender roles when we got married.

I have all kinds of rules, routines, and requirements for her, and she loves it. She says that her work demands so much of her brain that it's nice to turn it off a little and just be an obedient slut for me at home. She wakes me up with her small mouth wrapped around my cock each morning, she cooks and cleans over the weekend while I often sit back in a chair and enjoy her naked body bending and stretching, and most evenings, I have her get down on all fours in front of the sofa so I can use her as a footstool while I watch a game before retiring to the bedroom and fucking her pussy before bed.

One of the rules of our household is that she ask permission before going out for the evening and that she adhere to any curfew I set. Before she met me, she would say yes anytime anyone asked her to do anything or go anywhere, and she was awful about staying out late, getting a little too drunk, and then struggling to make it into campus the next day. Under our arrangement, that doesn't happen anymore. Well, not often.

It was the weekend of her sister's bachelorette party. The plan was dinner and then drinks at a bar, nothing crazy, but my wife had a writing deadline coming up, so she told me that she needed to be back early. I agreed and set the curfew at 10 pm. Imagine my surprise when one of her sisters helped her through the door at 2 am. She immediately looked at me apologetically.

"I'm so sorry I'm --"

"I don't want to hear it."

"But I lost--"

"Melissa. You're clearly drunk and not in your sober mind. I'm tired from waiting up all night, and I want to go to bed. We'll discuss it in the morning."

Melissa looked more than a little embarrassed to be spoken down to like this in front of her sister, but she bowed her head meekly anyway.

"Yes Sir."

"Good girl. Now thank Kayla for bringing you home and we'll go to bed."

She mumbled a thank you and goodnight to her sister and shuffled down the hall.

As I mentioned before, routines are important in our marriage. So even though I was tired and my wife was drunk and exhausted, I wasn't about to let her off the hook from our nightly arrangement. Each night, Melissa is to go into our bedroom 15 minutes before I do, get completely naked if she isn't already (again, I often like to admire her body around the house), and kneel in a designated corner with her head bowed, waiting to be told how I'd like to enjoy her body that particular evening. When I entered the bedroom tonight, though, she was still in her party dress, curled up in an armchair by the windows, resting her head against the back of the chair but not yet asleep. She looked startled when she noticed my stern face.

"Is this how I'm supposed to find you, slut?"

The look on her face let me know she knew she had fucked up.

"Dan, I'm so sorry, I thought you said you were tired, I assumed..."

"Shut up, slut."

Her small pink lips closed tightly and quickly. She bowed her head down.

"Yes Sir."

"This is the second of your infractions. The first, of course, was staying out past curfew." She looked up for a moment as if she was about to speak. "I don't want to hear your excuses tonight. We can talk about that tomorrow. But regardless of why you came home late, I can't imagine any reason why you thought that relaxing in this chair was a more appropriate place for you to be..."

I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her off the chair and onto the floor.

"... than on your knees waiting to serve me."

Melissa quickly scrambled to her knees and bowed in the required position.

"Better," I mused, "but too little too late, cunt. You're in the correct position, but you're wearing the wrong uniform."

I grabbed my pocket knife out of my pants. I held it in front of her face and flicked open the scissors.

"Now remind me, where did you get that dress?"

She bit her lip and looked away. I moved the edge of the scissors so that they rested against her cheek and used them to direct her face so that she was forced to look me in the eye.

"From you, Sir," she said reluctantly. "It was a Christmas present last year."

I chuckled. "Oh good. I was worried, but it's basically my dress to do with as I please, isn't it?"

Melissa didn't say anything, but she looked annoyed. I didn't care. I grabbed her by the neck to hold her still, and then I snipped the straps of the dress of before ripping it down the middle. As instructed, my wife was entirely naked under the dress. I grabbed a handful of the dress fabric and stuffed it into her mouth before grabbing her chin and pulling it close to my face.

"Tonight, I'm going to do what I do every night and fuck your holes as long as I want and as hard as I want until I'm satisfied. Tomorrow, we start your punishment for your infractions."

Her tiny mouth stuffed full of fabric, all she could do was look at me with big, sobering eyes and nod.

"Good girl," I caressed her soft cheek softly under my fingers for a few moments. Her skin was still a little cold from having been outside, but it was soft and smooth as always. I let my hand drop away and then slapped her face loudly. "On your stomach, on the bed."

Melissa hurried off her knees and climbed onto the bed, putting herself into the spread eagle position she knew I'd expect. I grabbed the cuffs that were almost permanently attached to the four posts of the frame and methodically wrapped them around her small, delicate wrists and ankles until her pale flesh was unmovedly stretched across our black, velvet comforter. I placed a finger at the base of her neck and could feel her shiver in anticipation beneath it. I slowly traced it partway down her spine, then around to her waist, then around her curvy hips and ass until it rested between her legs.

I slowly began to massage her clit. She moaned happily.

"Funny," I said, "It sounds like you're enjoying this." I dipped my finger in her pussy just long enough to wet it before rubbing her clit faster.

I think she tried to said "Yes Sir" through her gag as her moans got louder.

I rubbed her clit between two finger and gave it a squeeze. She breathed heavily with excitement. And then I slapped it with as hard of a slap as I have ever hit her clit before.

She let out a short, restrained scream. I shifted so that I could grab her neck with both hands and force her to look up at my face.

"You're a horny little bitch, aren't you, Melissa?"

Again, she muttered what must have been "Yes Sir" through the gag.

"You like having your little clitty at the mercy of my fingers, don't you?"

She nodded as enthusiastically as my grip would allow.

"It would seem to me like a slut who likes sex as much as you would make sure to be home in time to give it to her husband." I let go of her neck, returned to her pussy, and began slapping it rhythmically. She moaned a little--this time in pain--and began breathing more heavily.

"It should go without saying that you won't be cumming at all over the next few days," I said as I continued hitting her, "but I'll say it just to be clear: if you orgasm at all before your punishment it through, I'll make it even longer and," you could almost hear the smile in my voice, "so, so much worse."

I unbuckled my belt, held it in one hand, took off my pants, and climbed onto the bed. I took some lube off the bedside table, squeezed it into my hand, and began toying with my wife's asshole with a wet finger.

"Nice obedient girls get fucked in their pussies."

I stuck two fingers deep within her ass and started thrusting them in and out.

"Ungrateful cunts get used up the ass."

I stuck a third finger inside her while the other arm started marking her shoulders with my belt. If I hadn't been hard already, the thwack of the belt and the bright red marks marring her perfect flesh would have done it for me. "I know I said punishment starts tomorrow, sweetie," I said sweetly as I could tell she was fighting back screams, "So obviously, this is just for fun." I hit her again, even harder.

I pushed my cock up her tight ass. She hates anal but does it for me. Still, we don't do it often, and that works well for times like this because she's tight and it's painful. I heard her gasping for air before her breaths turned into occasional yelps. I grabbed her waist tighter for leverage as I pounded her harder. Between the alcohol, humiliation, and pain, she actually started to cry a little.

I'm enough of a sadist that nothing pleases me more than a crying bitch helpless underneath me. I slid my hand from her waist and leaned forward so that I could reach down and grab her tits and twist her nipples. She began to shake with sobs between screaming. I released my load inside her, resting my full body on hers for a moment before whispering, "You're not done yet, whore."

I climbed off of her and untied her arms and legs. I wasn't sure if it was because she had learned her lesson and was trying to be obedient or if she was too tired to do anything else, but she remained in position submissively. I grabbed her by the torso and flipped her over onto her back. I straddled her so that my cock rested on her chest, facing her mouth, as she meekly gazed into my face.

"Clean me off, bitch."

She eagerly leaned forward, opened her mouth and took my cock down her throat.

I smiled at her submissiveness. "We weren't planning to do anal tonight, were we? I totally forgot that we hadn't prepped that tight ass of yours, so I imagine you're cleaning a lot more than cum off that cock, huh, sweetie?"

My wife took half a moment to come up for air. She blushed with both shame and pleasure. "It's more than I deserve, Sir. Thank you for letting me clean off your cock!" She returned to her job enthusiastically, and I was reminded that no matter how hard I seemed to be on her, she always enjoyed the firm hand treatment as much as if not more than I did.

Tomorrow's punishment would be fun.