Paul Gable - Whipped wife

"What are you so nervous about?" Jack asked as he stood in the doorway and smiled at Diane. The blonde was wearing a bathrobe now, tied tightly around her waist.

"Please go, Jack. My husband's bound to be home any minute now," Diane pleaded. She couldn't predict what Matt would do if he ever found out she'd cheated on him. Granted, he didn't seem to care about her in the sack any more. But she was still his wife, and he had a kind of possessiveness about her, even if he didn't fuck her much any more.

"Remember. If you want me for anything, I'll be around. And good luck with the samples," Jack said as he turned around and walked quickly to his car.

Diane closed the door quickly and inhaled sharply. She could still smell stale cunt juice in the air! Matt would smell it if he walked in now. Diane ran to the kitchen and grabbed a can of room deodorant, running back into the living room and spraying the lemon-scented freshener until that sharp odor was gone. The blonde sighed and smiled, tossing the can onto the couch and walking dreamily to her bedroom.

Jack's dick had felt wonderful between her legs. It had been so long since someone had fucked her like that. If only Matt would, Diane sighed as she walked into the bedroom and pulled off her bathrobe. Matt wouldn't do anything to her that night or any other night. He was wrapped up in his own world of God-only-knows what.

As Diane slipped between the sheets of the king-sized bed and folded her hands behind her head, she thought of Jack's rugged, powerful body and how it felt hammering and grinding against hers. She closed her eyes and moaned to herself as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Diane was sorry that she'd sent him away. How she wanted him now, crawling on top of her and jabbing his cock head against her puffy labes! How it would feel to wake up in the morning to a man who couldn't keep his hands and cock off you! These thoughts and other similar ones buzzed around and around in her head as the blonde fell asleep.

"OH!" Diane cried out as she felt something crack across her face. She jerked up in bed and raised her right hand to her face protectively. As Diane focused her eyes, she realized that Matt was standing by the edge of the bed staring at her. The hall light was on, flooding the bedroom with a bright yellow glow. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Diane saw that it was four in the morning. Looking back at Matt, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He'd been drinking heavily.

"You're drunk!" Diane said with disgust as Matt rocked back and forth unsteadily.

"So what?" Matt asked, leering at her as he reached down and started unbuckling his belt.

"What are you doing?" Diane asked nervously as she watched her husband closely. He had a different attitude about him now. There was a new feeling that surrounded him. It was more savage and threatening than she'd ever sensed from him before.

"Gonna teach you a lesson, bitch!" Matt growled. A twisted smile snaked across his lips as he grabbed the buckle end of his black leather belt with his right hand and pulled it out of his trousers.

"What do…?" Diane started to ask. Her question was cut short by a sharp blow across her face. Matt had slapped her hard, knocking her down roughly to the mattress.

"Ohhhh!" the woman cried, sliding up on the bed and drawing the top sheet protectively under her chin.

"Who's been here?" Matt asked savagely, reaching down and ripping the top sheet off the bed.

Diane whimpered helplessly as her eyes widened in horror. This was a new, terrifying Matt. His right hand was raised high over his head, the belt clutched tightly in his fingers. The buckle end hung down onto the bed as he stared with hatred at his cringing wife.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Diane whimpered, feeling hot flashes of guilt and horror rake her trembling body.

"You know fuckin' well what I'm talkin' about!" Matt screamed drunkenly at her as he brought the belt down with all his might. The leather belt whistled through the air and landed with a sharp thwack on Diane's left buttock. The blonde's eyes sprang open with pain and horror as her mouth shot open and a shriek of agony and fear filled the room.

"Ahhhhrghhh!" Diane cried out, reaching down and rubbing the sore spot on her ass.

"Whore! You're nothin' but a fuckin' whore!" Matt drawled in a slurred voice as he brought the belt down another time.

Diane screamed and screamed, rolling back and forth on the groaning bed and vainly trying to shield her body from the blows with her hands as the belt whistled and cut through the air. The screams merged into one continuous cry of horror as her body burned from the pain. Every muscle ached with physical tension as the belt cut savagely into her quivering flesh.

"Don't! Oh God, it hurts! It hurts!" Diane cried out as Matt stopped beating her with the belt and stood panting over her. She felt the welts beginning to rise on her tortured flesh as sobs choked her throat.

"You little slut. I found out what's been goin' on around here finally. Hal Jones next door was goin' to work for the early-morning shift. He said he and his wife heard a crash outside a couple of hours ago. They told me about that guy and you and how he stayed here for a couple of hours," Matt gasped as he seemed to be getting ready for another round of beating.

"No, don't. I didn't do anything. I swear! We just talked!" Diane pleaded. She couldn't tell him the truth! He'd kill her in the kind of mood he was in now.

"Fuckin' bitch!" Matt said, throwing the belt down and reaching forward. He caught her hair in his hands and yanked back.

"Aiyeeee!" Diane shrieked, feeling her head jerked back. He was pulling her off the bed by the hair. Diane dug her fingernails into the mattress, kicking her feet in the air as Matt kept pulling and dragging her across the sheet.

With one final jerk, her husband finally pulled her off the bed. Diane grunted as she rolled over the edge and crashed down onto the floor. Matt let go of her hair and stood towering above her, his hands on his hips.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" Diane stammered as she looked up at her husband.

"Get up!" Matt ordered.

Diane tucked her feet under her firm buttocks and stood up, wondering what kind of ordeal she'd have to suffer from her husband.

"Hey, Jennie. Come on in here," Matt said, turning his head and shouting over his shoulder.

Diane stood horrified and shocked as a tall, wispy brunette sashayed into the bedroom with a drink of Scotch in her hand.

"Hmmmmm?" the girl asked, looking with amusement at the husband and wife. "I see you've been at wifey-poo," the girl said mockingly, leaning against the doorframe and taking a long drink from her glass.

"Who's that?" Diane asked a little indignantly.

"Someone who's gonna help me teach you a lesson," Matt said sarcastically as he reached forward and grabbed Diane tightly around the wrist.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the blonde wailed as her husband's grip grew tighter and more painful.

"That's the way he is, honey. You'd better get used to it. Matt's a whole different person from the guy you married," the girl said as she finished her drink and put the empty glass down on the dresser. "Shut up, Jennie!" Matt said angrily as he started pulling the protesting Diane toward the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" Diane asked.

"There's some things you better learn fast about your husband," Jennie said as Diane was dragged past the smiling brunette. "A whole new world's been opened up to him. It started in his Art History classes," the woman explained as she followed Diane into the living room. "While you were cooking away at home, Matt learned about the fine art of bondage."

"Bondage?" Diane asked, feeling a thrill of horror shoot up and down her spine. She'd heard about people who got into that sort of thing. But it never particularly appealed to her. She always thought they were the Hollywood type of person who walked around in leather jockey shorts and beat up on women who loved that sort of thing. But not here in suburbia! It couldn't be happening to her. She and Matt had their differences – but this?