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Cruel mistresses and abuse female submissives sex tale
I disembarked on my station, tired like a dog. Outside was raining. Not a heavy rain, just a windy drizzle calculated by Saint Peter or whoever mans the weather station in heavens to wet you to the bones. I set my brisk pace to a trot. Four short blocks and two long blocks. I know, I know. Walking is good for my health.

Our house was in sight. Only one block for a dry place and a dinner made by my wife. She was a good cook and I was starving. Whole day in meetings exhausted me to the bones and didn't allow for a real lunch.

I let me in with my key. Before closing the door I stopped and looked outside. Something was amiss, but I couldn't point it out. Oh, well, I was too hungry anyway.

Inside the warm house, a familiar sound of the soap on TV.: "I'm home, sweetheart!" I called in the general direction of the living room. Taking off my wet jacket I threw it over the back of the single arm-chair at the living entrance. Later Helen would take it to dry and iron. I wouldn't need it for tomorrow as I had a very important meeting and my other best suit should be already back from the cleaners. I glanced through the correspondence on the little table. Bills, bills and more bills.

Our old beagle arrived in a dignified walk compatible with his seniority and positioned his head for a welcome scratch behind his ears. After I attended to it he made a turn and offered the base of his proud tail for a scratch in a particular place along his tailbone. After the daily ritual was completed he navigated to the kitchen to help us eating whatever was on the table. He wasn't choosy.

Suddenly I perceived what was amiss. Where were the children? "Honey," I tried to be heard above the final part of today's soap. "Where are the children?"

"At my moms, today is Tuesday," she replied without missing a word of the soap, a feat that I stopped trying to understand long ago. I gave her a peck on the cheek and squeezed into the smaller sofa. She hogged the more comfortable one and was reclined on it in her old housedress, not exactly the most attractive of garments. The tune announced the end of today's chapter probably at the exact point where the heroine will learn that her mother is really her sister.

"Dear," I told my wife, "I'm famished, what did you do..." I sniffed the air and found another thing amiss. There was no delightful smell in the air.

"I was trying to tell you," my dear wife informed me although I didn't remember her trying to tell me anything. "I'm sorry, but I burned the dinner. I was preparing the stew when I noticed that we were out of red pepper and I picked the car to go to the market leaving the stew on slow burning. And it took me more than I thought and it burned..."

I looked at her without understanding. "The market is around the corner, dear," I said, "what kept you so long for the meal get burned?"

"It is because I had a small accident on the way..."

Now I perceived what was bothering me from the moment I entered. There was no car on the driveway. I looked at my petite 30 year old red-headed wife. She didn't have a scratch and looked whole. "Are you OK?" I asked. When she nodded, I complemented: "and the car?"

"I had it towed to the garage. The insurance man will look at it tomorrow, but you know, the garage owner told me it probably will be totaled..."

"Totaled!?" I almost gagged.

"And this is why the meal burned but I have fresh bread and some cold cuts, and I have wine..."

"Easy there, Helen. Slow down please. You know that I have an important meeting tomorrow, I won't drink because it always makes me oversleep."

Helen covered her mouth with her hand, "uh-oh, I know that I forgot something. I didn't pick up your suit from the cleaners."

Blood start pouring to my head. "But I told you it was important! My jacket is sopping wet; I won't have anything to wear tomorrow!" I was almost shouting.

"Don't choke on your temper," said my sweet wife, "I'll scare something for you to wear tomorrow. Let's eat now." She jumped from the sofa intent to go to the kitchen.

I held her by her shoulders and turned her to me. "Wait a moment, Helen. Explain the accident to me. How did you manage to total our car on a trip to the market which happens to be almost around the corner? And what happened to the other car?"

She had this look of a cornered rat and couldn't meet my eyes. "There wasn't other car, if you must know. I hit the sign post in front of the market."


"Well, I was talking with Lily on my cellphone..."


"Well, y-yes, b-but it wasn't because of the cellphone, you see, I dropped the cigarette on my lap and I had to find it before it burned my... you know... I only looked down for a second... I swear!"


"B-but i-it w-wasn't really m-my f-fault..."

I was probably fuming through my ears. Grinding my teeth until my jaw almost cracked, I turned her in the direction of our bedroom and gave her a powerful swat on the bottom propelling her in the right direction. I hissed through my locked jaw: "G-O F-E-T-C-H Y-O-U-R S-T-R-A-P, L-I-K-E N-O-W!!"

She ran to our room and I started to tell me: "I won't spank her while mad... I won't touch her before I cool off... I won't spank her while mad..."

She returned carrying her strap, in reality a Lochgelly two-tailed tawse that we purchased in Scotland on our honeymoon as a prank. She regretted several times the purchase. She would certainly regret it today.

"Take out that horrid dress, lower your panties and go to your corner holding the strap behind your back while I cool off."



She scurried to her punishment corner and assumed the required position. Why did she use that shapeless housecoat? I mused to myself. I will throw it out. At least she is using her sexier underwear. While I was examining her unmarked rounded bum I noted absent-mindedly that I had no recollection of those black and white undies. How long since she was last in the corner? Three months? Five? I couldn't remember. I was so absorbed in my work that I hadn't time to punish my brat for ages. Not even the playful discipline as foreplay. Well not only foreplay. When was the last time we made love?

Well it was high time to remedy the discipline part of it. She had it coming in spades. Burning my dinner, forgetting my clothes, totaling our car, driving while talking on the phone. Smoking for chrissake!

I felt calmer. I wasn't mad anymore. I was simply resolved to transform her lily-white bum-cheeks and thighs in raw burger-meat.

"Helen Rose White. Come here and give me the strap. I took her by the ear-lobe and dragged her behind me to the kitchen. It had convenient stools for over the knee spanking. High, with two different heights of foot-rests it allowed me to control my petite miss with her nose and legs well above the ground. I flipped her face down on my knees. Her size was perfect for this traditional position. My right leg on the higher foot-rest positioned her bum at just the right level. My left hand with a wise-like grip on the nape of her neck forced her upper body down forcing her to grab the stool legs in order not to fall not that my neck grip would allow her.

I started slowly but methodically lambast her posterior from the upper buttocks down to her knee-hollows, while listing her sins:

WHAP! "You know..." WHAP! "...not to speak..." WHAP! "...on the phone..." WHAP! "...while driving!" WHAP!

"Ouch! Augh! OUCH! "IT HURTS! I promise not... Ouch! To speak... Aughh!"

WHAP! "You don't smoke..." WHAP! "...in the car..." WHAP! "...you DON'T SMOKE, PERIOD!" WHAP!

Her butt and thighs showed clearly that my efforts were getting results. Her body bucked on my knee while she wailed: "AH-ah-ah! I promise... Ouch! Ouch! ...not to smoke... OUCH! ...anymore. AIIII!!" The last wail was because of a particularly well aimed strike on the top of her thighs just at the crease when they meet the buttocks.

WHAP! "Forgetting my clothes..." WHAP! "...knowing very well..." WHAP! "...that I need them tomorrow morning!" WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

"AUch! I promise... OUCH! ...to do something... Ou! Ou! Ou!"

WHAP! "Lazing in front of TV..." WHAP! WHAP! "...letting the dinner burn..." WHAP! WHAP! I decided that I had scolded her enough and concentrated in turning the red skin in purple red. The tawse flew up and down and my darling brat was getting hoarse from wailing and crying.

Her bum and thighs were a sight to be seen. She wasn't bucking anymore, just sobbing on my knee. My anger was spent, my right leg was aching and my left was trembling and I had a roaring hard-on.

I threw the tawse on the floor, gathered Helen in my arms and carried her to our bedroom. She clasped my neck and hid her teary face in my shirt.

"F-f-forgive meeee..."

I didn't answer. I deposited her carefully on the bed-top, knelt between her open thighs and slowly penetrated her moistness with my hardness. I used my elbows and my knees to keep my weight from her but she enfolded my waist and forced me down. I thrust and thrust and thrust. She bucked against my body and mewed and kissed my face, my neck my chest.

After my third orgasm, a personal record, we slept together, spoon-fashion, her back and battered bottom against my chest and groin.

I woke up famished. During our sleep she disentangled and now she was sleeping in her favorite position, her left thumb and indicator around her nose, the other hand under her cheek. She had a pillow between her legs and I could see perfectly the well spanked naked buttocks, now relaxed and trembling to the rhythm of her calm breathing.

It was a little cold, I didn't want to wake her up by turning the lights on, so I used my small emergency pen-light to open the closet and get a bath gown that I seldom used. There, in the closet hung my best suit, clearly fresh out of the cleaners, together with my favorite dress shirt and my best tie. I illuminated the suit to be absolutely sure. It was there ready to be used.

"Son of a bitch!" I thought. Forgetting the gown, I tiptoed naked out of the bedroom to the kitchen directly to the oven and opened it. "Double son of a bitch!" A perfect succulent stew and dumplings were waiting for me without any signs of burning. I ran to the door to our backyard and went naked out. Bingo! There was our car half hidden beneath a plastic cover with not a single scratch on it.

I sat down at the kitchen table with a portion of warmed over stew and a glass of wine. I was still fuming, but it was a good and warm sensation.

After satiating a little of my hunger and cleaning the kitchen table, I saw the discarded tawse on the floor and took it with me.

I returned to our bedroom. Helen was still asleep now with her back to my side of the bed. I got behind her carefully in order not to wake her and inched to her body until her warm butt was once again touching my groin.

"That little deceiving minx," I thought. "Screw the meeting. The first thing tomorrow morning her butt will meet Mr. Tawse again, but this time for a Good Girl's spanking."

I enveloped her body in my arms, as I used to do when we were younger. She sighed contently and I slept with my nose in the aroma of her rich auburn hair.

The End

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