A Relaxing Evening

It had started out as fairly normal day for me, the same old shit that I deal with day in and day out. People suck, and that's the truth. They are ignorant, careless fuckers who just try to slip by as easily as they can. You see it everywhere. I know it's just not the members of my team at work, the guys I manage, or even my boss, and his boss, but all of them together were bugging the shit out me at the moment. Deadlines! Profits! Meetings! Fuck off!!

And it was only getting worse. As usual, I ended up staying late. No really a big deal - shit happens. But that day ended well after seven o'clock - surprise late meeting again, and of course, for this marathon meeting starting past five, they don't even order us food. The point of this lovely little meeting - give me and my team more work. Nice six month project I'd have to have done in four, with near-impossible milestones scattered haphazardly throughout. My bosses were morons.

I got home to find an empty house and a note declaring that Sarah was out shopping with her cousin. Wonderful timing, really; I needed the chance to wind down a bit, hopefully get rid of the pain that pulsed through my head. Grabbed some takeout on the way home - I hadn't expected Sarah to have made me anything. God forbid she do any work in the wonderfully modern kitchen we had. Okay - I'll be fair; the bitch can cook a mean meal when she tries, but she prefers entertaining and parties for such things, not the regular dinner-for-the-husband efforts.

I tossed my tie and jacket on the sofa as I passed by to get the usual distressing agents: a glass of Glen Levitz and a smooth cigar. I would need a generous dose of both to calm me down. I stepped out onto the wooden deck, surveying my tiny-as-hell yard. I never understood why they made such expensive homes on the small-ass lots. It annoyed the shit out of me that I spend near a mil on a house and could almost spit from my roof onto the equally-priced house next door. The house was worth it - lovely, new, and well decorated. Sarah had a big hand in that. I'm not much for picking furniture and drapes. It was a lovely neighborhood, lots of us well-to-do types, all trying to flaunt our wealth to each other. It made me laugh.

I was sad to see that the girl who lived in the house behind ours had her drapes closed. Usually she walked around in her underwear, stuff way too sexy for a girl her age - at most sixteen - to be wearing. I liked to sit out on my deck, smoke and drink and watch her flaunt her body. Sometimes, if she was about to go out, she'd blow a kiss in my direction before dressing and leaving her room, so she knew I was watching at least sometime. I could have used the show now to alleviate some tension.

I settled in and enjoyed the cool breeze. Smoked my cigar slowly, letting the crisp, dark taste fill my mouth before puffing out the thick blue cloud, my stress just flowing out with every exhale. Take a couple bits of the Indian food I'd picked up, the spicy chicken cream sauce adding a sharp kick to the rich smoky flavor already consuming my taste buds, and then a sip of delicate, cold whiskey to send it all down in a swirl of sensation and decadence that erased the concerns of the day and pulled my mind away from thought. It was cool, dark nothing, and I was immersing myself in it, letting it flow around me like the gentle arms of caring lover. I closed my eyes just floated as I puffed on my cigar and sipped my whiskey.

My world was quiet calm, and I was pushing my entire world away, when -

"Honey!" Sarah voice broke through the silence and echoed through the house. My eyes snapped open and my jaw clenched, sending a wave of pain up through my skull, adding to the pressure that had collected throughout my day.

I stood up and stepped into the house, my cigar in my mouth and glass in hand. She was rushing through the living room and into the library, her arms loaded with bags. "Honey! How was your day? Did you just get home? They kept you late again - that sucks. Wow! They kept your really late tonight! Margy and I were just out shopping and I bought the most wonderful dress. I was thinking I could wear it to that cocktail party next week," at this point she had made her way around to me and kissed me on the cheek. I turned my head and blew out a puff of smoke in the general direction of the open door and sipped my drink. "Uhh, you smoking that inside? That leaves such a smell in everything!"

I shrugged. I was trying to tune her out, but her voice was attacking my forehead with every word she spoke. She was smiling and chatting away about her shopping excursion, and I just sipped away, letting the cool liquor comfort me and protect me from her voice.

She was a beautiful woman, though. A couple years younger than my 30, she was still quite the looker. She worked out and dieted, knowing that she was the wife of a successful business man and that it was part of her wifely duties to be the gorgeous accessory on my arms at parties and other social functions. She had it down, too. She knew how to dress to show off those shapely legs and curvy hips and sculpted stomach. She knew how to wear her wonderful golden hair to frame her pretty face and set off her blue-gray eyes so that she simply radiated. She could chat and flirt and make you want her all while by my side. She was the perfect date to such functions, and she loved them. Everyone warmed to her and loved her, and because of it, they loved and envied me. It got me places that others could not. I knew that most of my co-works wanted to fuck her - hell, the president of the company had flat out told me so at one of the events a couple months ago. He was currently on trophy wife four, I think she was 23, and he was lusting after my wife.

But he didn't have to listen to her prattle on. "Ah, Jack! You're getting ash on the floor!"

I glanced down at the bit of cigar ash on the hardwood. It would sweep up easily enough. I just shrugged and downed the rest of my whiskey. The last thing I really needed was her mouthing off about something as unimportant as that. I mean, fuck, it's not like it was a fucking carpet or anything and I was about to set it on fire.

I held my empty glass out to her. She looked at it for a moment and then snatched it from my hand. "What, you expect me to get you another?"

I nodded. "On the rocks."

"I know how you like your drink, Jack! Fuck it! You get your own fucking whiskey. Sit out on the deck and smoke and watch your fucking hussy tease you." She tried to hand my glass back to me. "Don't expect me to open my legs for you when she gets you all turned on."

I sucked in a deep breath on my cigar. I held it for a moment. And then I blew it right in her face. She turned away, coughing. She was trying to say something, but I didn't catch it.

She never saw the backhand coming. I struck her hard across the cheek, with a resounding slap. She stumbled back from the blow, dropping my glass. It shattered as it crashed to the floor. Before should could recover and collect herself, I drove my fist into her stomach. The wind exploded from her lungs, and she dropped to the floor.

"You get me my drink when I tell you," I stated, my voice even and cool as I watched her tremble on the floor. It was the first time I had ever hit her like that; I would have thought I would be surprised by my own viciousness, but I wasn't. Hitting her was as natural as kissing her would have been.

She began to scoot away from me on the floor. She was breathing hard. "You 'open your legs' for me when I tell you. If I want to fuck, I fuck you. Do you understand?"

She mumbled something from the floor. I took a quick step towards her and grabbed a fistful of hair. I pulled her head back so she was facing me. "What?"

"Yes! Yes, I understand!" Her voice was shaky, on the verge of tears.

I took another deep drag of my cigar and held her head still so I could stare into her eyes. She kept trying to turn her face away, but she couldn't. I breathed it out, not specifically aiming for her face, but not avoiding it either.

"Hold out your arm."

She hesitated. I pulled her hair back, hard. "I don't want to repeat myself!"

Sarah's arm was up and out. I ground my cigar into her forearm; she hissed from the burn as I snuffed the embers. I released her as I stood and tossed the stub out through the open door over the deck rail.

She was heaving breaths, now, and blowing on the burn. "Son of a bitch!" she murmured as she tried to relieve the pain.

I whirled on her. "What?"

The terror in her eyes excited me like nothing before ever had as she looked up at me from the floor. She was beautiful, but that look was pure eroticism. I could feel my cock stiffening in my pants. She was shuffling away, pushing herself across the slick wood floor with her legs, sliding behind the coffee table on her ass.

"What did you say?"

For a moment, she looked away, becoming the submissive little cunt-wife she should be. But then, the inner-bitch sparked to life, and she turned a stern face back to me. "You son of a bitch! You fucking burned me, you asshole!"

I lunged for her with speed and ferocity that very obviously frightened her. I hadn't known I had it in me, but there it was. The coffee table was between us, but only for a moment. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the whole thing hurling across the room and crashing into the built-in bookshelf wall. I heard the crack of the wood breaking; it fueled me on.

I grabbed her by the throat with one hand and hauled her to her feet. Her hands grasped my wrist, trying to get me to let go. Her legs kicked out, but it was weak paddling against my thighs. I lifted her up until she was on her tip-toes. She couldn't breath, and her hands were going weak on my arm.

I slammed my fist into her stomach again. It was a dull thwack of knuckles on meat; the sound was exhilarating. I loved the feel of my hand hitting the tight muscle of her well-toned tummy. It made it so much more appealing to be striking hard flesh. She grunted and gasped, her eyes rolling in her head. I hit her again, venting all of my stress and frustration into the blow.

She lashed out, trying to defend herself. Her limp hand impacted with my cheek. There was little strength, and no pain. But she dared try to strike me? No, no that would not do at all.

I spun and moved, swinging her weight around and slamming her against the wall right next to the fireplace. The picture on the wall fell, the glass shattering as the frame hit the ground. The candles on the mantle shook from the impact. Shame they weren't lit - I could have snuffed their flames on her skin.

Pressed against the wall, it was easy enough for me to hold her off the floor entirely, and her feet dangled a few inches above the floor as I held her by her throat. The impact against the wall stirred her a bit, waking her, but the blow also disoriented her. Her hands were all over, trying to grasp the mantle to prop herself up so that she could breath. She knocked the candles off and the antique vase - broken bits of wax and ceramics scattered across the floor.

I grabbed her blouse by the inside of collar and ripped down. The buttons popped in one quick stroke. I ripped the fabric away. Her lovely breasts bounced in the lacy black bra she was wearing, those perfect C cups. I slammed by fist right into her tit, making her squeal. I laughed.

I slapped her face, open palm to one side, then returned with a backhand to the other. Over and over, I reddened her cheek and swelled up her lip. She could only struggled and gasp for air, her face flushing, then beginning to turn blue. It was lovely.

I twisted my entire body, using all my strength to rip her away from the wall and hurl her to the floor. She crashed hard onto the hard wood on her side, and bounced into the wooden rocking chair. Sarah tumbled right through the chair, busting it to pieces. She ended up on her stomach and just laid there, gasping and sobbing. I was over her in a moment, and ripped her skirt off. Her ass hung a bit in the air, showed off in her little black thong. Her round ass cheeks were so soft and smooth and pale. I needed to hurt her.

I scooped up one of the spokes from the destroyed rocking chair. It was a thick, round piece of wood, dense with a good weight. I raised it high above my head and brought it down hard. Crack! Right across her ass. She fell forward, flopping to the ground. I wailed again, and again, landing blow after blow on her fair skin, and all the while she just grunted and moaned. Her skin bruised quickly under the onslaught, and her butt was lined with long purple welts.

I licked my lips as I listened to her pained moans. I was amazed with how much this brutal assault was turning me on. I couldn't take it any longer; my lust for release was outweighing my desire to hurt her body more. I needed to fuck her. Now.

I tossed my weapon away and grabbed her thong by the waist strap. I lifted her up by the small piece of material, raising her ass off the floor until her legs and shoulders hovering just above the floor. She was limp, and I almost thought her unconscious, but I could hear her whimpering.

I shook her hard, holding the strap, and shoved down and then snapped my arm back, thrusting all her weight against her underwear. On the fourth shove, they snapped, and Sarah fell hard to the floor, her thong destroyed.

I grabbed the back of her bra strap and lifted that the same way. She grunted in pain as I crushed her tits, and I bit my lip with joy at the sound of her agony. My cock was throbbing; I was delighting in stripping her naked. As I lifted her, though, I stepped on her back with one foot, pushing down with my weight as I pulled up on her bra. She started to moan and cough as I forced her down with my shoe. The strap-hooks gave, and the back sprung open. I was surprised by the sudden release of tension, and I stumbled back even as Sarah was flung to the floor under the weight of my foot.

She surprised me then. She was up and running, naked, out of the library. I chased after her. My feet fell like thunder, shaking the floor as I barreled behind. I was not amused by her attempts to escape me, but chasing after her was making me hungry and lustful. She was swift and graceful, but also well-maimed - the combination made her every moment exciting to watch. It would usually have been a harder pursuit, but I was catching up easily.

"Get back here, you fucking cunt!"

Sarah rushed around the living room, evading the furniture. I plowed through it, tossing it out of my way as I rushed after. She turned to look at me from time to time, pure panic in her face. It drove me on, harder. I would show her it was futile to escape me. When I wanted to fuck, I would fuck her, whether she wanted it or not.

I was closing in as she rushed towards the dinning room. Maybe she was going to the kitchen, thinking she could find something to defend herself with. I'll never know. I was close enough, so I struck. I punched her dead in the small of her back, just above her beaten ass.

She flew forward, knocked off her feet. Her body collided hard with the large wooden table. Stomach first. She slumped over it, limp once more. I was behind her in a moment. My body propped hers up, keeping her from falling to the floor.

"Did you really think you could get away? Stupid cunt!" I unzipped my pants and pulled my aching cock out. "I would have gone easier on you had you stayed put. But now I need to teach you." Grabbed her hair and lifted her head from the table. "Don't I? You need to be taught how to act, don't you?"

Her voice was weak, just a whisper. "Yes."

"Yes. Yes, you forgot how you are supposed to treat me. You forgot your place in my house, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"If I want to burn you, I burn you and you thank me for it!"

"Yes. Thank you . . . .Jack . . . for burning . . .me."

"And?"

"For beating . . . me. Showing . . .me my place."

"Fucking right. God damn fucking slut! And now I'm going to fuck you. You want me to fuck you, don't you, Sarah?" When she didn't answer right away, I smacked her head down onto the wooden table, and then yanked her up again. "Don't you, cunt?" Again. "Don't you?"

"Yes," she hissed. "Please. Please, Jack, fuck me. I need to be fucked. I need to shown my place."

I held her head down on the tabletop, keeping one hand on the back of her neck to keep her body down. She didn't have the strength to fight back. I had her now. With my cock held tight in my free hand, I slid the head up and down her ass crack until I felt the spot. Then I pushed.

She grunted, and then shrieked as she began to cry, but she didn't flinch at all. I'm not sure she had the energy to move. But I did. I leaned in hard. Forcing my cock slowly but surely up her ass canal. I had fucked her up the shitter plenty of times before, but now, without even spit or cunt-juice to slick it up, I was shoving my dry cock up her tight hole. As beaten as she was, her ass was clenched up, tight, too. It hurt me shoving it upside of her. Which meant it was all the worse for her, and that made me even hornier.

I started fucking immediately. I had so much pent up inside of me, so much energy and fury and need. I fucked her ass hard, ignoring her cries. The rawness such thrusting caused on my cock was ignored. I pounded my whole weight against her. Slammed her body hard into the table. Leaned down, crushing her face to the wood. I never slowed, never slackened. I just fucked her, telling her to take it like the slut she was and get used to it. If this is how I wanted it, then this is how she would take it.

I exploded with a cry of shear pleasure and unloaded my cum into her bowels. I crushed her small frame under my weight as I came. She was shuddering beneath me as she cried. It made me want to hurt her more.

I pulled out quickly and stepped away. Without me there to support her weight, she slumped off the table and fell in a heap on the floor. My cum was leaking out from her wasted asshole, tinged pink from the blood. It looked so fucking hot as it streamed out from between her ass crack and down her leg to the floor.

I squeezed her face between my hands and lifted her up until she was on her knees. She was hardly supporting her own weight; she would have fallen had I let go. Her eyes were mostly closed, and she was rocking gently, like a tree in the breeze. I slapped her hard across the face. That roused her.

Her eyes flashed open, and she looked up at me, pleading. Begging. I sneered. "Open your mouth, slut."

She did so; more to the truth, she let her jaw fall open as much as gravity would take it. I pulled it open the rest of the way, which made her wince. Her face was swollen, and it was difficult for her to muster the energy to force her mouth wide. I shoved my cock between her lips; she jumped as it forced its way in, paining her. Holding her by the hair, I proceeded to pump my dick in her mouth. She was trying to suck, but it was a feeble attempt. I contented myself with the feel of her tongue and swelled lips on my shaft. The tears streaming down her cheeks definitely helped me along as I fucked her face.

I lasted much longer then I did in her ass, but soon enough I was shooting my second load down her throat. After the first shot, I pushed her back onto the floor. She flopped hard on the wood, her tits jiggling from the impact as the rest of my cum splattered all over her body. I gave myself a few jerks to make sure I had fully unloaded, and then tucked my cock back in my pants.

"Remember you place, now, slut? You remember now?"

She nodded.

"You do what I tell you, or you know what you get."

"Yes, Jack."

I kicked her in her side. God, I loved watching her body jerk from the impact, hearing the grunt of pain. It made my cock twitch. I might not be ready to fuck her again just yet, but before the night was over, I would take her body at least once more.

"Now, cunt, I want another whiskey. Bring it out to me on deck, and be quick about it."

I turned to walk away, but her voice caught me. "Jack . . . please."

I looked back at her, lying on her back, beaten and bruised, red and blue and brown all over from the damage I had done. Her legs where spread, showing off her neatly shaven cunt.

I closed in, standing just on top of her, and lowered the ball of my shoed foot right onto her clit just like I would step on a pedal. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes as I leaned more and more weight into her cunt, pushing harder and grinding my shoe against her tender flesh.

Her arms and legs jerked as her body spasmed. She was breathing hard, loud sighs as her climax ripped through her abused body. She didn't have the strength or voice to cry out, but I could see the pleasure cascading through her. Tears streamed from her face as she came.

Once her shaking started to subside, I turned and walked back to the deck. I sat and breathed in the cool air, letting the pleasant sounds of the evening comfort me and dry the sweat on my body. I was flushed from the exertion, and now that I was calming down, I could feel the dull ache in my muscles. My headache was gone, and my stress fully relieved.

* * * * *

I fell into my chair on the desk, my teeth grit in fierce annoyance. My project at work was meeting the milestones, but due to two of the idiots on my team, I was now very close to being behind schedule for the week. It was going to be very satisfying when I fired George in the morning, but that didn't help me catch up. I could feel the pressure building in my skull, in my neck. My pain - I found I very much enjoyed taking it out on others.

I look up to the house beyond my backyard to see that my lovely little tease was in her room, topless, and in skimpy little red panties. She was on the phone, chatting, casually rubbing her cunt through the fabric as she paced. I licked my lips as I admired her body; the things I would do to her. . .

Sarah was quick in following me out onto the deck, or as quick as she could be, limping as she was from my latest venting a couple days before. I was pleased to see she had attired herself appropriately: she had her serving tray on. It was a wooden tray cut to rest perfectly against her stomach. Two straps clutched the outside corners to hefty clips, which attached to her nipples. She had to be very careful with how she moved, or the side against her body would fall out, dumping the contents of the tray. She had gotten very good at serving since I had gotten it for her just a few weeks ago, and even sore and limping now, she was managing. When I was the one putting it on her, I would bind her hands behind her back, but since she had put the tray on herself, she merely kept her hands there obediently.

Not only had she brought me my whiskey, on the rocks - good thing for her that it was, or else a beating would have ensued right then - but she had gotten for me cigar and my lighter.

She knelt down next to me, proffering her gifts to me. I saw her casually gazing up at the neighbor's daughter as I collected my drink and cigar, a flicker of a smile playing about her sweet lips. She picked up the lighter and held the fire for me as I lit up. Without a sound, she extinguished the flame with her hand then closed the lighter.

"Thank you, Sarah," I said, settling back into my chair. I took a deep puff of smoke, and then blew it out towards her. She didn't flinch. "You can take that off."

"Thank you, Jack." She unhooked the tray from her tits and set it aside, but stayed kneeling by my side. "Bad day at work?"

I shrugged. "Typical." Since I had started this project, that was the truth of it; every day was another annoyance, another pain.

She nodded, her eyes glistening in the moonlight as she regarded me with total love and admiration. I reached out and stroked her hair. She leaned into my hand like a love-starved kitten.

I kissed her forehead. She shuffled around until she was kneeling in front of me, and she lowered herself down so she was sitting on her legs, and she lowered her head into my lap. Her hands were idling caressing my crotch, stroking my cock through my pants, even as I continued to pet her hair.

Holding my glass and cigar in one hand, I alternated smoking and drinking. The tension in my body was once more drifting away as I let the stress of my day slip away in my now daily fashion. I felt Sarah unzip my pants and pull my cock out. She took it in her mouth and sucked my limp member, letting it grow hard and thick between her lips as she caressed my balls with her gentle fingertips. I sighed, content, as I sipped my liquor and watched the young girl across the way tease her nipples. She looked out her window, at one point, down toward where I sat. I doubt she could see me in the darkness, but I have no doubt she thought I was there.

I stroked Sarah's hair, letting her know how much I was enjoying her service, and she moaned with pleasure and desire at being able to serve me. It was a wonderful, relaxing evening - just what I needed to get my mind off of the assholes at work.

I took a deep breath and grinned, thinking about the previous night that still had Sarah limping. She had failed to serve me properly and I had taught her a lesson for it. "Guess you get to go out and buy more furniture for the house this weekend." Sarah moaned in agreement. She enjoyed that kind of thing. The antique furniture store was becoming a weekly shopping trip for her ever since I had first lost my temper with her over two months prior and sent her careening into the old rocking chair.

I let out a long sigh, and took another taste, letting the cold, sharp flavor rejuvenate me as my beautiful, obedient wife sucked and lapped at my hard cock. This was the perfect way to end an evening.