The Bratty Wife
“Why won’t you just admit that I’m right and you are wrong?”
What could I say to that? When she turns into a brat, there’s just no sense in arguing, because no amount of logic can possibly penetrate the pride. Of course, I’m exactly the same way. I simply glared at her and stood tall. That’s when I caught the hint of a wicked grin at the corner of her lips.
“Because,” she continued, “There is no way that you are right about this. I’m right and you are wrong.”
She took a step closer to me.
“You are being a brat,” I said.
She giggled and took another step. We were less than a yard apart.
“That’s got nothing to do with anything. I’m still right!” That wicked grin exploded across her face and I was hooked. My heart started pounding and my mouth went wet. I really love her when she’s a brat.
“Au contraire,” I said, raising one eyebrow. “That’s got everything to do with it, because there’s no way someone who was right would resort to being a brat. Therefore, because you are acting like a spoiled little girl, you are most definitely in the wrong and I am right.”
“Noth-ing to do with it!” She repeated. Then she stuck her tongue out at me.
“Oh yeah?” My argument had been so good a second ago, now all I had left was fourth grade? Look what this woman does to me!
She didn’t even answer. She just shook her hips. That’s when I broke.
“Come here,” I said, and I grabbed her by both wrists. “Let’s go to the bedroom and sort this out.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, but she didn’t resist while I tugged her toward the stairs and led her down to the bedroom. I took her in my arms and kissed her behind the ear. She squealed and tried to squirm away, but I held her firm. I gave her earlobe a nibble and felt her knees buckle and her breath catch.
“Stop it!” she called out, between gasps. I let go of her ear.
“Stop it? Is that because you know I’m right?”
She sounded defiant, but her grin was pure lust.
“Are you looking for a spanking? Is that it? Because you are acting like a total brat and you’re going to get one.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I picked her up in my arms, my left arm behind her back, my right under her knees. She squealed again and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
“Put me down!” she yelled.
I gently set her down on the bed, but flipped her onto her stomach and before she had her balance, then planted myself astride her ass. I gathered her wrists in my left hand while I went into my nightstand drawer and pulled out the soft, neoprene handcuffs, imprinted with the word “spank” on the left cuff and “me” on the right.
I looped the cuffs through the slats in the headboard and soon had them Velcroed securely around each wrist.
“Hey!” she protested. I got off her ass and stood next to her on the bed.
“Well?” I said, sternly. “Are you going to say you’re sorry?”
“I’m right! You need to apologize to me.”
She watched me intently while I calmly stripped off my shirt and tossed it into the hamper. I undid my belt and pulled it swiftly through the loops. I cocked an eyebrow at her again. She bit her lip. I nodded and dropped the belt on the bed. It would be there when I needed it. I slowly and deliberately unfastened each button of my jeans, then dropped them to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving me in my boxer shorts. I thought she was hoping I’d pull my cock out let her suck me until I forgot all about punishing her, but not this time. I was going to make this little brat admit that her husband was right.
She wore a sexy white lace blouse/cami and a pair of tight blue jeans. First thing, though, I need to take off her boots. I unzipped the side of the short, black boot on her right foot and pulled it off. I carefully rolled the knee-high stocking down her calf and off her. I treated her foot to a nice massage, slipping my fingers between her toes until she purred.
“So,” I whispered, lifting her toes to my lips. “Which is it going to be? Good girl...?” I gave each toe a gentle suck, drawing a sigh from her. “Or brat?” I dropped her foot unceremoniously to the bed.
“You are wrong, wrong, wrong,” she insisted. The second boot came off without any foot worship.
I put my hands on her ass cheeks and gave them a quick squeeze, just to let her know they were on my mind. I reached underneath for the snap to her jeans. She helpfully raised her hips for me. (I should probably reward her for that, I thought.)
“You know, little brat,” I teased, as I yanked the snap open and pulled down the zipper. “You are heading for a monster spanking if you don’t own up to the fact that your husband is right.”
She just shook her head. I let go of her hips and she settled down on the bed again. I pulled her jeans over her hips, exposing the cute white thong with black polka dots that I had bought her for Valentine’s Day. Her luscious cheeks were on display. My heart caught in my throat at the sight—I do love this woman’s ass!
I slowly pulled her jeans down off her legs and decided to reward her for cooperating with the difficult job of getting out of the tight pants. I took her left foot in my hands and massaged the sole firmly. I wiggled my index finger in between each toe, stretching them out.
“Yay,” she cheered, quietly, with a smile. I smiled back to her, then lifted her foot to my mouth and kissed the top of each toe. I slipped the little toe into my mouth and stroked it softly once with my lips. She gasped, then giggled.
“Are you a good girl, or are you a brat?” I asked, before taking the next toe between my lips for a kiss.
“I am a good girl,” she said. It wasn’t until I reached her big toe that she added: “But I’m still right about this.”
I gave her big toe one last gentle kiss then set her foot down on the bed with a disappointed sigh.
“Up on your knees, brat,” I ordered. “It’s time for your spanking.”
“What?” she protested. “This is so unfair!”
I forcefully lifted her hips with a strength that caught her off guard. She pulled her knees up with a gasp, ending up on all fours but with her arms stretched out before her, tethered to the headboard. The thong left her cheeks nicely exposed for the spanking I was about to deliver. I stood to her left and gave her right cheek a tender stroke. I smiled to myself: this was going to be fun.
The first spank was a quick but stinging slap to her left cheek. She jumped and a little squeak burst from her lips. I knelt on the bed and placed my left hand possessively between her shoulder blades, holding her down a little. Then I started giving her a proper spanking.
I struck her left cheek again with a loud smack! I slapped it twice more before having at her right. I slapped her right cheek twice with brisk, upward-angled strokes that produced a satisfying clap.
“Owww!” she protested when I stopped after the fifth spank. “Stop it!”
I ran my hands lightly over the skin, sending a shiver through her body.
“Stop it? Why is that, hunny?” I taunted. “Is it because I'm right?”
“No! Stop being mean. I'm right!”
“Oh, I see,” I answered. She looked back at me, pleading with her eyes. I just shook my head with disappointment and spanked her right cheek again—much harder. She gasped. I struck her left cheek, swinging my hand from over my shoulder.
“Eep!” she squeaked.
I turned my body toward her feet a little more for a better angle and began raining blows down on her ass. I spanked her hard, targeting different parts of her butt until both cheeks were bright red. She cried out with every slap—and especially loudly when I smacked the sensitive junction where ass met leg.
I stopped abruptly, panting from the exertion.
“Ow ow ow!” she said. Her eyes were watery. “It's so unfair!”
I scooted over behind her and planted soft kisses on the burning red skin. She gave a little sigh, but continued to protest her mistreatment. “I'm not wrong, really I'm not. Please stop. I'm sorry...”
I liked her attempt at an apology, short of the mark though it was, so I needed to give her a bit of a reward before her punishment resumed. I took hold of the sides of her thong and tugged it down over her hips. I pulled it down her legs, up and over her feet and tossed it across the room. I knelt between her legs and nudged her knees apart a bit.
“Please don't punish me any more,” she begged. “It's not fair.”
“I know it's not fair, but you need to admit that your husband is right.” I slid my hand along the backs of her thighs until it reached the underside of her ass. Then, I pushed slowly forward until my fingers found the soft hairs of her labia. She gasped and opened her legs a bit wider. “You know what will happen when you admit that I'm right and you're wrong,” I teased, letting my fingertips glide along her lips. “I'll touch you so nice, hun. I'll make you feel so good. I'll give you such a reward, baby. All you have to do is say 'I'm wrong. My husband is right.'”
She made no answer; she just sighed and rotated her hips a little against my hand as I massaged her labia. The lips were swollen and parted easily when I probed with two fingertips. I felt her inner lips and the entrance to her vagina. They were wet and ripe. She gave the cutest moan—the one that always makes me fall in love with her again. I couldn't resist feeling for her clitoris and I found it easily, stiff and ready to be touched. But, she still hadn't said the magic words.
“What do you say, sweetie? Is your husband right?”
“I mean,” she sighed. “There are all kinds of ways to look at things, right? So maybe you're kind of right.”
Lame! I stopped moving. I scowled at her as she looked back over her shoulder to see my reaction. She didn't soften—she hardened.
“But I'm not wrong. I'm totally not wrong!”
“Admit you were wrong, wife!” I commanded.
“Never!” she defied.
I withdrew my hand from her pussy and placed both hands firmly on her butt.
“Then you need more discipline.”
I reached behind me and took hold of the belt. If she was going to continue to be stubborn, I was ready to take it to the next level.
I folded the belt in half and gave a soft swing at the back of her right thigh. It struck with a bit more force than I’d intended and a CRACK reverberated around the bedroom. My wife cried out, “Ow!” I let my arms follow through, then reversed and backhanded her left thigh. CRACK! She twitched and pulled her legs up under her body, seeking cover for them. I scooted back a bit and then swung the belt swiftly into each cheek of her ass.
“Please!” she called, after the four swats of the belt, but that was all.
I dropped the belt and stood up beside her head. She looked up at me with watery eyes. I slowly slid my boxers to the floor.
“Please what, wife?” I teased, as I stroked my cock to fullness, inches from her lips.
“Please, no more of the belt.”
“Do you promise to be a good girl?”
“Yes, I’ll be a good girl for you.”
My cock swelled in my hand. I leaned forward and she slipped her lips around it with practiced ease. Oh that felt good. She sucked on my cock, feeling it grow and throb in her mouth. My left hand went to the back of her head, my right drifted down to caress her red ass.
“Yes, baby,” I cooed. “Suck my cock like a good girl.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned into my dick.
I suddenly pulled away from her mouth and got back behind her again. I started rubbing and grinding my dick into her dripping pussy.
“You want this, hunny?” I asked, tapping the head against her dangling clit.
“Yes, baby. Please.”
“Oh I want to give it to you. I want to slide this cock right into your pussy.” With that, I took to working her opening in a gentle circle with my dick, pressing against the tight ring of muscles that was so ready to yield and be filled, if I applied a little more pressure. “There’s just one thing you need to say, hun.”
“Oh please, baby. Please. I’m wrong, husband. You’re right.”
I let my hips fall forward and my cock sank into her wetness all the way to the hilt. I groaned with satisfaction: that was all I needed to hear, but she kept going.
“Oh yes, fuck your wife. Please fuck me. I was wrong, hunny. Just keep fucking me.”
I reached forward and yanked the straps of her handcuffs loose. Her right hand flew down between her legs and she started playing with her clit as I fucked her.
“It’s okay, baby,” I panted. “Everybody makes mistakes. Now, I’m going to give you a big reward for owning up to it.”
“Yes, give me my reward. Come in my pussy, baby.”
My hips were out of control. I fucked her wet snatch as hard as I could, feeling my cockhead swell like it does when I get close. The sensations were wonderful. She worked her clit in time with my strokes and the knowledge that she was feeling so good sent me over the edge.
“Yes, sweetie, here comes your reward. All the way up in you. I’m gonna come for you, wife.”
The warmth of orgasmic pleasure spread from my cock throughout my body, then came into sharp focus as I snapped and launched my come deep into her. My voice gave out, shifting into a high-pitched squeal. My cock pulsed and throbbed, shooting jets of semen into her pussy while my hips kept working her over in a desperate, orgasmic fuck. Then, my head was too sensitive. I pushed hard, burying the last few shots as deep as I could, grunting with every spasm. My weight on her ass pushed her forward until with one last shudder, my cock slid out of her pussy.
I found myself looking for reality again as I sprawled on top of her, trying to keep my weight on her hips, not her back. The room span a bit. I suddenly realized that I had more work to do before returning to the real world.
“You’re such a good girl,” I cooed, praising her. “Such an obedient wife, to admit that your husband was right.”
She moaned a response into her pillow. Her fingers were still busy on her clit.
“You deserve the best reward I can give you.”
I sat up, then gently rolled her onto her back. She didn’t take her fingers away from her clit until my lips had taken their place, wrapping solidly around the sensitive nub.
“Oh yes,” she moaned.
I held her clit between my lips and teased it softly with the tip of my tongue, randomly darting all around it, looking for every possible nerve ending that needed attention. As her passion deepened and her orgasm approached, I sensed that she needed more. I slid two fingers of my right hand deep into her pussy and fucked her gently, mixing our juices together and pushing my come deep into her body.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” I asked, going back to teasing mode and blowing cool air across her clitoris.
“Oh yes, I’m a good girl.”
“Good. Now be a good girl and come for your husband.”
I attacked her with my lips again, fucking her hard with my fingers and applying pressure to the root of her clit. She lifted the backs of her legs off the bed. I could feel her body tensing up.
“Good girl,” I mumbled into her clit, between licks. “Give your husband a nice big come now, baby. That’s it.”
And with that, she cried out and came. Her legs snapped tight around my head. I held her clit firmly between my lips and rode her. I pushed my fingers deep into her cunt and relished the steady throbbing of her orgasm. One, two, three, four times her strong muscles gripped me, then her hips fell to the mattress and she collapsed in satisfaction.
I gently pulled my fingers from her pussy and climbed up next to her, wrapping her in my arms. I had to squirm a bit to arrange things so that my still-dripping dick was pointed at our sheets, not her thigh, but then I was able to tug a blanket over our bodies and we began to cuddle.
“You are the best wife in the world,” I whispered in her ear.
“You’re right, husband,” she sighed.