Sunday, November 20, 2011

Couple of things - including another of Rosie's 'Bits'..

1.  You'll notice that I deleted the contact for - I closed it on Thursday.  Replaced the link with one that goes directly to my library.  It's up on the L.H. side of this page.

2. On that subject - there's a new book in there with three novelettes - called "Dominating Aunts".  The stories are:  Aunt Rose's Place:  Aunt Morag and her Daughters:  Fanny. The cost is $3.99 - and the discount is 20% - if you use the code CR59P

3.That bit of Rosies seemed to go over very well - it follows this.  But in case you haven't noticed?  Part 2 of my serial was posted earlier today.


I glanced at the clock, but it really wasn’t any use. My wife could come home any time, so it made perfect sense to be ready. I never could be sure what mood she’d be in after a case like that one. I took a quick look at me in the mirror and thought about whether I should change. Though truthfully, what I was wearing made more importance to me than to her. As long as I didn’t stray from the general borders of her taste and kept my appearance at least presentable if not immaculate, it was okay with her. The long tight skirt seemed quite suitable for that situation and she had always liked the yellow silk blouse I was wearing.
She was very kind and loving when we married and continued to be so right until she got hired by a big law firm. Almost from day one she started being aggressive and abusive. Beside letting out her rage on me, it seemed that she was competing in just about every field. I think that more than half of our fights were about proving that she was physically stronger than me. Once I accepted that and took on my role as the housewife, she became less violent. She still did thrash me once in a while, to let out some of her aggression.
I froze when I heard our front door open.
“Hi, honey,” I said and scurried to her on my high heels, taking her briefcase, “How did it go?”
“Quite alright,” she said, “Want to come to the bedroom?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“We settled out of court,” she started explaining as we walked, “They chickened out and gave us five million.”
“Five million? But that’s great!” I said.
“It’s not bad, considering we probably wouldn’t get much more in trial,” she replied.
We reached the bedroom. She walked in, took off her jacket, threw it on the bed then sat on the bed herself and smoothed her skirt down her thighs.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked as I placed myself across her knees.
“The problem is that I wanted to go to court!” she answered and slapped my skirted ass.
“I wanted a trial! I was all set up to go to court and sue their asses out of everything they had!” she yelled as she kept spanking me.
I was waving my arms, kicking my legs and squealing, more and more sincerely.
“But no, their lawyers had to chicken out just at the last moment! And Frank Spencer, he’s the biggest chicken shit of all. Practically ate out of their hands when he heard we wouldn’t be going to court. God, why are all the men I have to work with such sissies?”
I began to cry. She stopped yelling but kept spanking me for a while. Eventually, she tired out and stopped. I wept on her knees for a minute or so, then wiped my tears and got up.
“You alright?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. I was sporting a rock hard erection that formed a distinctive bulge in my skirt. I sat next to her, kissed her cheek and caressed her breast.
“Not now, honey, I’m dead tired,” she said as she pushed my hand away, “Run me a bath, will you?”
“Sure,” I said then asked her, “Mind if I change?”
“Of course not,” she said, brushing my cheek.
As the bathtub was filling with hot water, I stripped my clothes to investigate the damage done to my backside. It was a red and felt sore but considering past experiences, I got out easy. It seemed that the ruffled panties under the tight slip did their job. Rubbing my butt with the cooling cream, I wondered for how long would she be falling for the ‘my skirt is too tight to hike up’ trick. Well, I shrugged, can’t risk having her slap my bare butt, I’ll just have to think of something else. I always do

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love this story. Wish there was more!