DIS-102 Spanking - The Training Of Mrs. Pritchard 


FORE­WORD

 It star­ted out to be a pleas­ant ex­cur­sion. Dolly and Don­ald Pritchard were 
tak­ing a second hon­ey­moon on board a lux­ury cruise ship.

 Dolly knew that her hus­band had a vi­ol­ent tem­per, but she rarely pro­voked his 
an­ger. She knew that if she did, she‘d wind up with a burn­ing, red hot ass!

 Don­ald be­lieved in dis­cip­line. He brought the paddle and the hair­brush, and his
strap­ping straps along on the voy­age, just in case he needed to use them across the 
up­turned ass cheeks of his good look­ing wife.

 When Dolly be­came ill on board, the doc­tor checked her out. The dia­gnosis was 
simple. Dolly was preg­nant.

 But there was one catch: The ship‘s doc­tor ex­amined Don­ald, too. His sperm 
count was low. He couldn‘t pro­duce a child.

 "You slut!“ he shouted, so loud that the people in the ad­join­ing cabin could hear 
every word. "You‘ve been whorin‘ around. You‘ve been givin‘ your snatch to every dick you 
could slide your cunt lips over!“

 "No, no I haven‘t,“ Dolly Pritchard lied.

 That earned her more than she would have got­ten if she‘d ad­mit­ted the worst. 
Mr. Pritchard wasn‘t play­ing around. He was go­ing to teach his wife how to be­have once 
and for all.

 Their second hon­ey­moon be­came Mrs. Pritchard‘s voy­age of pain!


CHAPTER ONE

 The first thing men no­ticed about Dolly Pritchard was usu­ally the way she lit up 
the street when she walked down it.

 She was blonde, very blonde, and the plat­inum glow ra­di­ated from her 
shoulder-length hair as if a high wattage light bulb plugged into her head.

 Her skin was white, trans­lu­cent white. It glowed with a creamy rich­ness.

 She stroked a pink rouge on her cheeks to give her high cheekbones a high­light. 
There was pink on her mouth, and pink on her sex-tips.

 She dressed in pale col­ors to ac­cent the light­ness of her style. She was walk­ing 
through the aisles of the su­per­mar­ket wear­ing a pale blue man-tailored shirt over her big, 
poin­ted breasts.

 She looked as if she had been poured into the faded jeans which clung to every 
curve of her but­tocks and long legs.

 Her feet were slanted up in a di­ag­onal dir­ec­tion be­cause they were slipped into 
a pair of back­less high heels which made her click-click-click as she walked down each aisle.

 The eyes of the su­per­mar­ket box boys were on her. Her box was re­vealed 
through the skin­tight ma­ter­ial of her jeans.

 From be­hind, her roun­ded ass globes flared out from her slender waist, 
present­ing as hot a pic­ture from be­hind as she did from the front.

 She shopped for items that would be bar­gains, but she didn‘t have to be cheap. 
She bought the best things on the mar­ket, es­pe­cially if her hus­band Don­ald liked those 
things. She wanted to please him.

 So when the boys at the su­per­mar­ket gave her the eye, she just kept on walk­ing.

 She had vowed to her­self, and to her hus­band, too, that she would never flirt with 
a man other than her hus­band or her father, and that she would ig­nore the com­ments and 
whistles which came from punks like the box boys at the mar­ket.

 It wasn‘t that Dolly didn‘t feel the urge, at times.

 She was only hu­man, and the de­sire to cheat on her hus­band flamed in her cunt 
from time to time. Don­ald was great in bed. There was no doubt that Don­ald was great sex 
for Dolly.

 But she had never been with an­other man. He mar­ried her when she was a vir­gin, 
and his had been the only cock to plug her since.

 She had to ad­mit that she was a little bit-curi­ous. Some­times she just couldn‘t 
help no­tice the bulge in the pants of men on the street. When they walked by, she‘d drop her
gaze, and catch a quick peek at the dick bulges.

 Some­times they caught her, and some­times they didn‘t. Usu­ally they were too 
busy star­ing at her.

 Aside from a fleet­ing glance borne of curi­os­ity, noth­ing ever happened. She‘d 
been ap­proached dozens and dozens of times, but she al­ways be­haved the way a lady 
would be­have and she turned them down flat.

 Nev­er­the­less, she did buy the magazines for wo­men which fea­tured beef­cake. 
They stocked these magazines in the su­per­mar­ket, near the check-out coun­ters. 
Em­bar­rassed to flip through the pages of na­ked males in the mar­ket, she would buy the 
magazines, say­ing that she was get­ting them for a friend.

 She‘d bring the magazines home when her hus­band was at work, and she‘d lock 
her­self in the bed­room and thumb through them.

 She was curi­ous about other men. She wondered how a man with a cock un­like 
her hus­band‘s cock would feel in­side of her. It wasn‘t that his cock wasn‘t big enough for 
her, it was just that she was curi­ous.

 Some of the guys in the magazines had pricks that were curved to one side or the 
other, and she was sure that each prick would rub against her clit­oris in a dif­fer­ent way. She
wished that it could be pos­sible for her to find out.

 Her hus­band had a beau­ti­ful cock with a fine shaft and a flared head. But he was 
cir­cum­cised, and she wondered how it would feel to have the cock of an un­cir­cum­cised 
man in her mouth and down her throat.

 She was sure that with an un­cut cock, she could use her tongue to wiggle in­side 
the pli­able flesh which her hus­band was lack­ing.

 She wondered if an­other man would feel dif­fer­ently on top of her. Would their 
bod­ies fit to­gether well? Would the curves fit to­gether like a warm and liv­ing jig­saw 
puzzle, or would they be like oil and wa­ter, never able to mix.

 Would Dolly Pritchard ever know?

 There were a lot of things that Dolly Pritchard wanted to find out. But she knew that 
she had to do all of her ex­per­i­ment­a­tion with one per­son and one per­son alone. Her 
hus­band Don­ald had made it clear from the be­gin­ning.

 "Dolly, I‘ve got to lay down, the law,“ he told her, be­fore they were mar­ried. "I‘ll 
ex­pect you to be a de­cent wife. You are to obey your hus­band when he speaks, and you are
to un­der­stand that I‘ll beat you if you dis­obey, or get sassy, or any­thing like that.“

 "I un­der­stand, Don­ald,“ she whispered, back then. "And I still want to be your 
wife. You‘re the one for me. In fact, you‘re the only one for me. I‘m yours, and I‘ll fol­low where
you lead.“

 Don­ald liked that. How­ever, he wanted to keep Dolly‘s spir­its high. He didn‘t want
to break her or turn her into a cower­ing dog.

 "I‘ll put a leash on you,“ he said, "but I‘ll give you plenty of lead so that you‘ll be 
able to go a cer­tain dis­tance in all dir­ec­tions.“ a sym­bolic way to get his point across.

 "There‘s only one thing that I ab­so­lutely will not tol­er­ate un­der any 
con­di­tion,“ Don­ald was quick to add.

 "Yes, what‘s that, darling,“ Dolly asked.

 "You are to keep your tail away from other men. You be­long to me. I know that may
be old-fash­ioned as far as some of these wo­men‘s, lib­bers are con­cerned, but it‘s the rule I 
in­tend to live by. If you want to be my wife, you‘ll have to un­der­stand that my dick is the 
only dick you‘ll ever touch.“

 Dolly wasn‘t a wo­men‘s lib­ber by any means. She en­joyed flaunt­ing her 
vo­lup­tu­ous charms, and she en­joyed the fact that her hus­band would think enough of 
her to make sure that he kept her for him­self.

 "Oh, Don­ald, how in the world could I want any­body be­sides you?“ she 
en­thused.

 "I don‘t know, honey,“ he answered as he lif­ted his dumb­bells up over his head. 
"Maybe you could get a little bit crazy some­time.“

 "Then you‘d beat the crazi­ness out of me, huh, ti­ger?“ she cooed.

 "Yeah, bitch,“ he said, and he gave her a wink. "You‘d like that, wouldn‘t you?“

 "I would not!“ she snapped. "It would mark up my beau­ti­ful body.“ Don­ald didn‘t 
say any­thing. He just kept pump­ing iron.

 Dolly plopped down on the king sized bed and watched her hus­band de­velop his 
muscles. Her big breasts were po­si­tioned halfway over the side of the bed, and her 
full-fleshed bot­tom was stick­ing up.

 "How do you like it?“ Don­ald asked, as he worked out with the weights.

 "I like it,“ Dolly answered, de­lib­er­ately speak­ing in a sexy, little girl voice. She 
knew that she could really turn her hus­band on when she spoke that way. "I love to watch the
sweat drip down in rivu­lets off those big muscles of yours. Ow, I could just run my tongue all 
over those sweaty muscles right now.“

 Don­ald grinned and con­tin­ued to pump. If Dolly hadn‘t been the room, he 
prob­ably would have stopped the workout earlier, but he wanted to show off and turn her 
on.

 "Mmmmm, I like the way your muscles pump out when you strain,“ Dolly cooed.

 "Yeah, huh?“ he said, sort of grunt­ing between presses.

 "Oh, yeah,“ she sighed. She was lick­ing her lips and let­ting the gloss turn her 
hus­band on as he ex­er­cised.

 They were turn­ing each other on! Even after a full year of mar­riage, they were 
hot­ter than hell for each other.

 "Baby,“ Dolly cooed, as she paused from the se­duct­ive man­ner in which she was 
chew­ing on a piece of pink bubble gum, "if you had it to do all over again, would you, well, 
would you do it all over again?“

 Don­ald let out a manly little laugh. "Sure, just as long as my strength held out,“ he 
replied.

 He let out a grunt, and lowered the bar­bell to the floor. The sweat was drip­ping 
off his face, down his chest, and down into and un­der the waist­band of his nylon bathing 
suit.

 He reached in un­der the waist­band and let some air in down there.

 "Do you want me to blow in there for you, and cool it off?“ Dolly asked.

 "That wouldn‘t get me any cooler. It would only get me hot­ter.“ He looked at 
Dolly‘s large, white ass globes stick­ing way up. She was writh­ing about on the bed, press­ing
her blonde-furred pussy into the sheets.

 That big bot­tom of Dolly‘s was too much for Don­ald to res­ist. He reached over 
and gave her a good hard swat across both globes at once.

 The swat startled Dolly. It also left a red hand­print across her tender flesh. It was 
glow­ing right through the thin nylon panties which clung to her rump!

 "Ouch! Oh, that hurt,“ Dolly said, fur­row­ing her eye­brows, pout­ing her pretty 
lips, and rub­bing the sore ass flesh.

 "It‘s not sup­posed to tickle,“ Don­ald said.

 "But why did you spank me like that? I didn‘t do any­thing,“ she said.

 "Aw, just look­ing at those buns of yours made me hot to give ‚em a smack. But 
don‘t think that you were bad, honey. You‘re damn good.“

 "Yeah, sure,“ Dolly said, still rub­bing the aching flesh.

 "But don‘t get bitchy with me, Dolly, or you‘ll learn what a spank­ing is.“ He had to 
cau­tion her when he heard the ir­rit­ab­il­ity in her tone. Dolly was quick to soothe her­self, 
be­cause she knew what a real beat­ing was. Don­ald had shown her on more than one 
oc­ca­sion in their year of mar­riage.

 "I‘m sorry,“ she apo­lo­gized. "Come on, baby, lift your weights. You get me all hot 
when you pump iron like that.“

 He grinned that sheep­ish grin of his and re­sumed his ex­er­cises in 
body­build­ing. He took his hun­dred and fifty pounder, and curled it to build up his 
fore­arms.

 "I‘m go­ing to count the strokes out for you,“ Dolly said. She began to speak in her 
most sexual tones. She lowered her voice un­til it was barely a whis­per. It was the 
whis­per-voice she used with Don­ald dur­ing their nightly sex ses­sions.

 "One, oh, baby, that‘s a good one. Two-Mmmmmm, so good. Three, oh, look at my 
man! Four, yessssss. Five, oh, he‘s so strong.“

 Don­ald was get­ting hot. He was strain­ing every muscle of his body with his 
pump­ing. Every vein was stand­ing out, with sweat rolling over them. He re­cog­nized Dolly‘s
bed­room voice. It was as if his beau­ti­ful wife was count­ing out the num­ber of deep 
strokes he fucked into her cunt.

 "Oh, baby, six! Seven. Eight, just like the num­ber of inches when your big dick is 
soft.“ It was get­ting dif­fi­cult for Don­ald to con­cen­trate on his ex­er­cise. Of all his 
muscles, there was one muscle which he used most of­ten; his dick muscle! It was no longer 
eight inches. It was big­ger than that, and it was strain­ing like a mon­ster at the front of his 
thin nylon suit.

 "Mmmmm, I loooove to watch you work your muscles,“ Dolly cooed se­duct­ively.

 She was blow­ing bubbles with her bubble gum; big, pink bubbles which re­minded 
Don­ald of her big, pink cunt. She was hid­ing her pussy from him by un­du­lat­ing it into the 
sheets. But her full ass globes were get­ting him hot.

 "My back­side is still burn­ing from that smack you gave me,“ Dolly told her 
hus­band. "It‘s still tingling, but it‘s be­gin­ning to feel good.“

 "I should give you a real spank­ing and have you count out the smacks. I bet you 
wouldn‘t be us­ing that tempt­ing tone of voice then. Ha! You‘d be moan­ing and yelp­ing 
and cry­ing.“

 Dolly‘s big pink bubble popped.

 She sucked the sticky sub­stance back into her mouth.

 Her hus­band picked up his matched pair of dumb­bells and star­ted pump­ing 
them from his shoulders up over his head.

 Dolly played with her nipples as she watched him. The sight of her well-built 
hus­band and the sen­sa­tion it pro­voked in her breasts, caused the nec­tar of her cunt to 
juice up and seep out onto the sheets.

 Don­ald could tell by the ex­pres­sion on Dolly‘s face that she was aroused.

 "Why don‘t you come over here and suck my dick while I do my ex­er­cise,“ he said.

 Dolly stared blankly at him for a mo­ment. Then she got up from the bed and 
ap­proached Don­ald. She stuck out her pink tongue and found the cen­ter of his chest with 
it. She licked a wet trail down to his wash­board stom­ach muscles, lick­ing up the salty sweat 
as she went.

 He made a low groan when he felt her tongue at the top of his bathing suit. She 
licked over the waist­band and con­tin­ued on over the pu­bic hair which was nestled be­low 
the nylon suit, just above his throb­bing boner.

 With her nose in his crotch, Dolly sniffed in the scent of his male­ness. Then she 
looked at him. Her hus­bands arms were raised above his head at that mo­ment, and she 
could see the curls of his armpits, with the sweat drip­ping down.

 She was get­ting ready to fol­low his com­mand and suck on his huge meat, but 
she had that bubble gum in her warm mouth. She took the gum out of her mouth with her 
fin­gers, and she ex­ten­ded her arm up, find­ing his lips with her fin­gers.

 Don­ald‘s mouth took the gum in­side. Neither of them had to say a word. The 
ex­change had been made, and Dolly was down on her knees in front of her hus­band.

 When he looked down, he saw her fluffy mane of pale blonde hair at the level of his 
crotch. He liked to see her on her knees be­low him.

 He liked to feel her at his crotch!

 "Suck it,“ he groaned. "Suck my huge dick.“ Dolly kept her face aimed at his prick. 
She placed her fin­gers un­der the band of the nylon suit and pulled it down to ex­pose his 
na­ked pu­bic area.

 Now she was really as­saul­ted with a cloud of pu­bic per­fume re­leased from 
un­der the re­strain­ing suit. The heady aroma made Dolly reel in un­res­trained arousal. It 
really made her dizzy, and made her all the more de­sirous of his prick.

 She wanted it in her mouth!

 Don­ald felt her wet tongue tick­ling him un­der the flared head of his 
mush­room-shaped knob. There was a lot of area for Dolly to wet up, arid she star­ted off 
with little flicks which soon be­came long and lov­ing tongue swirls.

 "Ah, Je­sus,“ Don­ald moaned. It felt so good. Her breath was heat­ing up his prick. 
He star­ted to lift those weights again, faster this time. Any­thing to avoid be­com­ing so 
aroused that he‘d shoot off too soon.

 He wanted to make this last, and so every time Dolly‘s tal­en­ted tongue brought 
him nearly to the point of or­gasm, he‘d start pump­ing those weights with a fury, to di­vert 
his con­cen­tra­tion from his cock.

 Dolly‘s warm lips found the head of the prick she licked. She had soaked up the 
knob, even lick­ing out the piss slit, and now she wrapped her wet mouth around the 
fuck-knob.

 "Suck it,“ Don­ald re­peated.

 Dolly star­ted suc­tion­ing the head. She was really try­ing to suck the scum right 
out of his nuts; pulling it up the thick shaft and down into her throat.

 She gave the head a real lov­ing suck job, and then she con­tin­ued down­ward on 
the shaft, tak­ing inch by inch into her mouth, and then down her throat.

 Don­ald heard the slurp­ing noise which star­ted when Dolly got hot enough to 
really give her all. She was suck­ing him all the way down to the nuts, and each time she 
bobbed her head for­ward, the head of his prick hit the very bot­tom of her throat.

 She kept the full length of prick in­side of her for only a mo­ment each time. Then 
she would slide back on the shaft, feel­ing the veins with the wet lips of her suck­ing mouth.

 The man‘s dick was totally erect. It couldn‘t have been any more swollen than it was.
His prick loved the feel of his wife‘s mouth and throat.

 "Suck it all the way down and keep it in­side,“ he told Dolly.

 That was a task, for sure! But it was a task that Dolly loved. She couldn‘t do it all at 
once. She had to work her mouth down slowly and when she found her­self down far enough 
to where she could feel his pu­bic wires tick­ling her mouth area, she had to go back up again
and catch her breath.

 "Breathe through your nose and suck!“ Don­ald groaned. His voice was in­sist­ent. 
Dolly knew what that meant. It meant that she had bet­ter do it!

 She took a deep breath and star­ted back down on her jour­ney to his groin. Inch 
after inch, his big cock filled her. He star­ted lift­ing those weights up and down more quickly.

 The cock was dis­ap­pear­ing down into Dolly‘s throat. When she got all the way 
down on his more-than-eight-inch dick, she star­ted to gag.

 Don­ald dropped the weights at his sides. They landed on the car­peted floor with a
thump so loud that Dolly was startled. But he didn‘t give her a chance to let the startle 
in­ter­fere with her suck­ing.

 The reason he had dropped the weights so sud­denly was that he wanted his hands 
free to use on Dolly. He grabbed her head just as she went down on his prick all the way. 
Don­ald held onto Dolly‘s blonde head and forced her to keep his hard prick em­bed­ded 
deeply in­side her throat.

 The force of his in­cred­ible boner in­side his young wife‘s throat was caus­ing her 
to choke. She was turn­ing blue in the face.

 She tried to pull her head back, even if only for a second so that she could take 
some fresh air into her. But he re­fused to al­low her to that. He held her down on his prick 
des­pite her at­tempts to back off.

 He was go­ing to let her off his hook after one more mo­ment. The point was, his 
cum was bub­bling up from his nuts, and it was climb­ing up his trem­bling dick. He was 
go­ing to blast his load all the way into her. She wouldn‘t even be able to taste it in her 
mouth, be­cause it would fly dir­ectly into her stom­ach.

 But just be­fore she star­ted to shoot, Dolly bit down on his pecker.

 "Fuck!“ Don­ald screamed. "You bit my fuckin‘ cock.“ Dolly pulled back from him 
be­cause she knew that her hus­band was really angry this time. She could hear the an­ger in 
his shout, and she could see it in his face.

 But what she feared the most was the in­ev­it­able fact that she was go­ing to feel 
his an­ger across her ass. He was bound to pun­ish her for this.

 "You bitch,“ he snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?“

 "I‘m sorry, Don­ald,“ she said, be­gin­ning to tremble and sob. "You were chock­ing 
me with that big cock of yours. I was afraid that I‘d pass out.“

 "So? So what if you passed out on your hus­band‘s dick. I‘d smack you around again
un­til you woke up. Bitch. You bit my fuckin‘ cock.“

 "I‘m sorry, I‘m sorry,“ she cried.

 "Your gonna be a lot more sorry when I get through with you. I‘ll give you a reason 
to cry, bitch,“ he snarled.

 "Please, please don‘t,“ she begged.

 "Shut up, bitch. You know what you‘re gonna get. Now co­oper­ate, or it‘ll be twice 
as hard.“

 Dolly swal­lowed hard. Even as she swal­lowed, she could feel the pain in the back 
of her throat which had been caused by the in­vad­ing mon­ster-dork all the way down 
in­side her.

 He looked as his naughty wife. She was beau­ti­ful when she cowered like that. She 
was trem­bling all over. The cun­tal flu­ids froth­ing from fear made the front of her black 
nylon panties wet.

 Dolly wasn‘t wear­ing any­thing on top, and Don­ald no­ticed how her nipples 
swelled up when she knew that she was go­ing to get a beat­ing for her mis­be­ha­vior.

 "You should know bet­ter than to bite my man-muscle,“ Don­ald told her. "What 
would you do if you dam­aged that thing and made it im­possible for me to fuck you?“

 "I wouldn‘t do that. I wouldn‘t cause any dam­age like that. I just had to give it a 
little bite to get away and catch my breath.“

 "You dumb cunt,“ he grunted. "You had no idea how hard you dug your teeth into 
my fuck-flesh. You bit the hell out of me. I‘ve got a good mind to de­prive you of this dick. 
Yeah, I should keep it away from you for a month.“

 "No, please don‘t,“ Dolly pleaded. "I‘d go crazy without my nightly dose of your 
prick in my twat.“

 "You‘d prob­ably be out on the street like a whore, lookin‘ for a re­place­ment,“ 
Don­ald said, taunt­ing her.

 "No, no I wouldn‘t,“ she ex­plained. "I know what would hap­pen if you caught me 
with an­other man. Even if you weren‘t fuck­ing me every night, I‘d know bet­ter than to 
cock­tease or fol­low through with an­other man.“

 "I‘m glad to see that you have some sense in that hot body of yours. But you‘re still 
gonna pay for what just happened. I‘ve got to keep you in line. When I tell you to suck, you 
suck! If I push your head down on my dick and make you suck it the way it de­serves to be 
sucked, then I don‘t ex­pect you bite it!“

 "I‘m sorry, I‘m sorry,“ she re­peated for about the tenth time. "I should have tapped 
you on the leg or some­thing to let you know. But I just couldn‘t suck it all the way down like 
that.“

 "Well, we‘ll see if you dis­obey me so fool­ishly when I beat you. I‘m gonna give you 
the pun­ish­ment you de­serve. Now, get down on the floor.“

 Dolly was ap­pre­hens­ive. He had never spanked her on the floor be­fore. 
Some­times he beat her on the bed and some­times he took, her over his knees. But this 
baffled her. Still, she knew that she had bet­ter do it.

 Trem­bling, she po­si­tioned her­self on the floor.

 "Do you want me ly­ing on my back or my front?“ she asked.

 "I‘m gonna beat your ass, so just get it stick­ing up!“ he bel­lowed.

 Dolly turned over so that her full breasts sank into the pile of the bed­room car­pet. 
She placed her head down so that her chin pressed into the floor, too.

 Her angry hus­band had a reason for pla­cing her on the floor for this dis­cip­line 
ses­sion. Dolly found out what he had in mind soon enough.

 He took the heav­iest of his long bar­bells. The metal rod had heavy weights 
at­tached to both ends of it. He had Dolly place her wrists near the metal rod, just be­side 
each set of weights.

 "I‘m gonna give it to you good for bit­ing my dick, Dolly,“ he warned her. "I know 
how you start to twist and try to get away when I start blaz­ing your ass.“

 "You hurt it so much,“ she said, hold­ing back fresh tears.

 "When it starts to get red hot you try to get away. When you kick I only give it to 
you harder, don‘t I?“

 "Yes,“ she replied softly.

 "So, I‘m do­ing you a fa­vor this time by fasten­ing you down. That way you won‘t 
earn ex­tra strokes for try­ing to get away,“ he told her.

 "But I‘ll have to take so much,“ she answered fear­fully, know­ing that if she were 
tied down, there would be no way that she could es­cape the lashes. The bar­bell was much to
heavy for her to even at­tempt to lift. It would keep her down as if it were a piece of bizarre 
bond­age equip­ment.

 "I have to do it to you,“ her hus­band told her. "It‘s my duty as your hus­band to do 
it. I care enough about your be­ha­vior to pun­ish you. Some hus­bands might say that I‘m 
be­ing a little bit tough on you, fasten­ing you down this way, and all. But if more hus­bands 
pun­ished their wives when it was needed, we‘d have less un­happy mar­riages and more 
happy hus­bands.“

 "But what about the wives?“ Dolly asked.

 "They‘d be hap­pier, too. They need to know that their hus­bands care enough 
about them to keep them in line when they step out of it. And bit­ing down on a prick 
re­quires pun­ish­ment. That‘s all there is to it.“

 He went into the kit­chen and found a ball of rope. It was soft rope, and he tested it.
He found it to be strong enough to hold when tied, but soft enough so that it would not dig 
into Dolly‘s flesh when he tied it around her wrists.

 Re­turn­ing to the bed­room, he found that his lovely wife had re­mained in her 
po­s­i­tion of humble­ness on the floor. She was await­ing her beat­ing.

 Her wrists had not moved from the po­s­i­tion in which he had told her to place 
them, and he went to work se­cur­ing each wrist to the bar with rope.

 She whimpered two or three times as he tied her. She whimpered in an­ti­cip­a­tion
of the beat­ing she knew she was go­ing to re­ceive. And to think, she wouldn‘t even be able 
to squirm out of this one, be­cause she would be tied down to the bar­bell!

 When he fin­ished, he stood with his legs apart, look­ing down at her. The lump at 
the front of his tight nylon bathing suit began to pulse. The sight of Dolly‘s but­tocks, 
out­lined clearly in her black nylon panties, stim­u­lated him to erec­tion.

 He was go­ing to strap those but­tocks to a glow! "Are you ready for your 
pun­ish­ment, Dolly?“ he asked ser­i­ously.

 There was a mo­ment of si­lence but it didn‘t last longer than that. Dolly knew that 
if she stayed quiet and didn‘t an­swer when he spoke to her, that he would give-her ex­tra 
strokes with his hand, his belt, or whatever it was that he was go­ing to use on her this time. 
He had a pun­ish­ment box full of stuff.

 "I un­der­stand that I‘m to be beaten,“ she said. "Yes, I‘m ready.“

 "And you know why I have to pun­ish you, don‘t you, Dolly?“ he said.

 "Be­cause I bit down on your cock. I‘m sorry it happened, but it happened, and now 
I have to pay for that mis­take.“

 "You‘re go­ing to pay with pain!“ he snapped, and he went to his pun­ish­ment box.

 He brought the box out and placed it in front of Dolly‘s head. Be­cause her wrists 
were fastened to the bar­bell, she was un­able to move too far from the po­s­i­tion in which 
she had been tied. She could only raise her head a short dis­tance. Her chin was still on the 
car­pet, and the rais­ing of her face caused the back of her neck to ache.

 Don­ald opened the pun­ish­ment box slowly. It was a ritual for him. Pun­ish­ment 
was some­thing he took very ser­i­ously. He con­sidered it to be part of his duty as a 
hus­band.

 His hands sifted through the as­sort­ment of pun­ish­ment in­stru­ments. A quiver 
fluttered in Dolly‘s wet cunt as she watched the in­stru­ments of pain caress her hus­band‘s 
fin­gers.

 "Tell me what in­terests you in this box,“ Don­ald told her.

 "I don‘t know. That old army belt of yours looks in­ter­est­ing,“ she stammered.

 Don­ald pulled out his old army belt. It was a belt of webbed cot­ton.

 "You picked that one be­cause you think the cot­ton belt won‘t sting, didn‘t you? 
Well, we‘ll see about that!“





CHAPTER TWO


Dolly‘s round ass globes trembled vis­ibly.

 Don­ald walked away from her and she heard him go into the bath­room which was
just off the bed­room. She heard the wa­ter run­ning.

 When he re­turned, he was hold­ing the cot­ton belt in his hand, and it was 
drip­ping wet! "I‘m gonna beat your ass with a fuckin‘ wet belt. It‘s gonna sting, you‘ll see!“ 
Dolly closed her eyes tightly and awaited the first blow.

 Thwap! Down it came across her twin ass mounds. Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! He wasn‘t
kid­ding her. He was really lay­ing in on. Each time the wet belt landed across her cheeks, it 
splattered wet­ness into the air.

 "Take it, Dolly. You were a bitch and you need to be taught!“ he told her.

 "I‘m sorry,“ she cried once again. "Please stop.“ He answered her ques­tion with 
an­other round of belt smacks. This round of hits seemed even harder than the first. He had 
flailed the belt so strongly the first time, that Dolly could hardly be­lieve he was hit­ting her 
even harder now.

 But it was true. Either that, or the sting from the first round was mak­ing the second 
round hurt ail that much more.

 Ac­tu­ally, it was prob­ably a com­bin­a­tion of both. And this was just the 
be­gin­ning. She wasn‘t go­ing to get off lightly after hav­ing bit­ten his prick.

 Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

 "Take it, Dolly, take it,“ he told her as he flailed her ass with the wet belt. The strap 
was dry­ing off from the heat of her well-spanked be­hind.

 When he had hit her with the wet belt more than two dozen times, he took a rest. It 
was as much a rest for his arm as it was for her ass.

 She was glad to have the break, but she didn‘t real­ize how soon it would end. She 
had hoped that the beat­ing was over, but she knew bet­ter to be­lieve that her luck would be
that good.

 "Now it‘s time to com­plete this beat­ing,“ he told her after a few minutes. "This 
time I‘m go­ing to pull down those nylon panties and whack your bare butt.“

 The panties hadn‘t offered much pro­tec­tion from the hurt­ing belt. In fact, when 
Don­ald pulled Dolly‘s panties down be­low her thighs, her white globes re­vealed 
them­selves to be very red. They were no longer the flaw­less white buns they had been 
be­fore the beat­ing.

 No, now they were red all over, and the beat­ing was only at the halfway mark! 
"Please go easy on me,“ she begged her hus­band.

 "Next time you go easy on my dick. You should‘ve thought about that when you bit 
it.“ Dolly star­ted to wriggle her butt even be­fore the first blow came down for this second 
part of the pun­ish­ment. When the first few strokes of the belt slapped her bare ass, she 
wriggled and kicked all the more.

 "Al­right,“ Don­ald hissed, toss­ing down the belt. "You asked for it.“ Dolly was really
frightened now. She knew that Don­ald‘s throw­ing down of the belt did not mean that her 
pun­ish­ment was over.

 "I see that se­cur­ing your hands isn‘t enough. You were told to take the 
pun­ish­ment like the bad girl you were. Now I‘m go­ing to make sure that you do.“

 He was mut­ter­ing some­thing, about hav­ing been too le­ni­ent with his wife thus 
far. He was say­ing that if he had tied her se­curely in the first place, he might have been 
fin­ished with this beat­ing by now. "But no, I was just too damn easy with the spoiled bitch,“ 
he said.

 He had an­other bar­bell and he was see­ing that his weights could be used for 
more than one type of ex­er­cise. He was think­ing that this was pretty good ex­er­cise for his 
arm; all this swinging of the belt.

 With the other bar­bell, he could tie his wife down by all fours. Again, the weight of 
the ex­er­cise tool would make cer­tain that she wouldn‘t move any more than he wanted her 
to, es­pe­cially when she would held down both at her hands and her feet.

 Us­ing the soft rope, he tied her ankles to the bar­bell. He wrapped the rope un­der
the front of her ankle one time, and then circled the metal cross bar of the bar­bell sev­eral 
times be­fore mak­ing a knot in the rope. Don­ald had been an Eagle scout when he was a 
kid. He had also been in the army. These ex­per­i­ences had taught him about mak­ing knots, 
and his know­ledge was pay­ing off.

 "Now you won‘t be able to get away. Not an inch!“ he told Dolly.

 "Give me a break,“ she pleaded.

 "I‘ll give you a break. I‘ll break your fuckin‘ ass with this belt!“ he told her.

 He star­ted to smack her with the belt once again. This time the wet belt raised the 
already-reddened sur­face of her ass flesh. Welts began to ap­pear on her be­hind.

 When that star­ted, he knew that the beat­ing was al­most over. After all, the sight 
of welts on his wife‘s ass aroused him for a while. He knew, that he had in­flic­ted those welts, 
and it gave him a sense of power.

 But he wanted his wife‘s ass to be white and flaw­less for him, too. That way the 
tar­get would be primed for fur­ther whip­pings.

 Dolly was cry­ing now. There was noth­ing for her to do but cry. The en­ergy she 
would have ex­pend­ing by thrash­ing to avoid the spanks was channeled through her eyes in
the form of hot tears.

 The tears streamed down her face and into the car­pet. The wa­ter from her 
but­tocks streamed down each time the belt smacked her bare bot­tom.

 Don­ald ac­cen­ted his words with the belt when he spoke.

 "You (Spank) are the most beau­ti­ful (Spank! Spank!) young wo­man I‘ve ever seen. 
Many men (Spank) want you, but you be­long to me. (Spank, spank, spank.)

 Dolly was really cry­ing. Her sobs were heavy.

 "That‘s why I have to beat you,“ he con­tin­ued. "That‘s why (Spank) I have to teach 
you with the belt.“ Spank, spank, spank, spank, spank!

 The last five strokes across her butt with the wet belt were the hard­est. They landed
one next to the other and they came down in quick suc­ces­sion. When he was fin­ished 
smack­ing, his wife was left to cry for a white.

 He didn‘t un­tie her. He left her with her face in the car­pet, her hands and feet tied 
to the bar­bells, and her ass up and red.

 She re­mained on the floor in that hu­mi­li­at­ing po­s­i­tion, feel­ing the sting­ing 
in her flesh and think­ing about the beat­ing.

 She wasn‘t angry with her hus­band for pun­ish­ing her that way. She did feel that 
she de­served the pun­ish­ment, even though she had to bite his cock at the time that she 
did.

 But she wouldn‘t ever dare to bite his cock again! No, she had learned her les­son 
the hard way. She thought about that, and she also thought of her hus­band‘s con­stant 
warn­ing to her. He had told her time and time again not to cheat‘ on him. That, he had 
sworn, would really rile him up and earn her a beat­ing she wouldn‘t for­get.

 Again, she prom­ised her­self that she would never cheat on her man. If she had 
been pun­ished like this for bit­ing his dick, she could just ima­gine what would hap­pen if 
she were ever caught in bed with an­other man.

 Time went by slowly for Dolly when she was kept on the floor as she had been. She 
tried to move her hands, but only her fin­gers would wiggle. Her wrists were firmly bound, 
and the heavy bar­bell pro­hib­ited any move­ment bey­ond the wig­gling of those fin­gers.

 She tried to bend her knees back and raise the bar­bell to which her feet were 
at­tached, but that was im­possible also.

 After what seemed like an hour on the floor in that servile po­s­i­tion, the door to 
the bed­room opened again. Don­ald re­turned. He had been drink­ing.

 He looked down at the sight of his vo­lup­tu­ous wife, tied to the bar­bells. He saw 
her blonde hair fall­ing down over her shoulders and part way down her back. Her back 
tapered into the roun­ded globes of the most beau­ti­ful ass he had ever seen. And the 
cheeks were still red!

 It was a tempt­ing dish to set be­fore this king. He had proven him­self the mas­ter 
of his house­hold by giv­ing his wife the beat­ing that would train her.

 But there was more for the mas­ter of the house to do, and the sight of his 
gor­geous wife, with her black nylon panties down around her lower thighs and her firm 
but­tocks stick­ing up, all red from the beat­ing, told him without ques­tion what it was he 
had to do.

 He had to fuck her! He just had to.

 Simply look­ing at her like that caused his dick to stir again. He pulled off his 
bathing suit and tossed it near her face. Again she smelled the scent of his male­ness, this 
time as it lingered in the ma­ter­ial which had held his dick and balls all day, even as he 
worked out and as he spanked her.

 The bathing suit aroma, again entered her brain, through her nos­trils, and turned 
her on. Her pussy star­ted churn­ing that cun­tal fuck fluid.

 The car­pet be­neath her little twat was wet! Don­ald looked down at her. "Pump 
your ass,“ he told her.

 "What? I don‘t un­der­stand,“ she replied.

 "I said pump your ass muscles. You know, move your ass. You‘re all tied down, so 
you can‘t move it ex­cept by work­ing your in­ner muscles. It‘ll start froth­ing up your cunt. I 
want it wet and lub­ric­ated for my dick. I‘m gonna fuck you.“

 The idea ap­pealed to Dolly. She loved to be fucked by her hus­band. Dolly 
ima­gined how it would be. She pic­tured her­self in their fluffy bed, mak­ing the soft down of
the bed spring back with every won­der­ful thrust.

 Dolly didn‘t know that her hus­band had an­other idea in mind.

 "Come on,“ he said. "I wanna see those ass muscles work­ing.“

 "Won‘t you un­tie me?“ Dolly asked. "I‘ve been tied down in this po­s­i­tion for a 
long time. It seems‘ as if it‘s been more than an hour.“

 "I‘ll keep watch of how long it‘s been and I‘ll tell you when you‘ve been in that 
po­s­i­tion long enough. Now start your ass muscles mov­ing. I‘m go­ing to fuck you, and I‘m 
go­ing to fuck you while you‘re tied down on the floor.“ Dolly nearly screamed. She couldn‘t 
be­lieve it. Her pussy was peek­ing out be­neath the globes of her ass. It would be pos­sible 
for Don­ald to get on top of her and slide his prick in, but she would have to stay in one place 
the whole time he fucked her, be­cause she‘d be tied to the bar­bells.

 That would mean that when the fuck­ing got rough, she wouldn‘t be able to turn 
her cunt away, or arch her pel­vis into a po­s­i­tion which would be less pain­ful for the 
fuck­ing of her joy box.

 And be­ing on the floor, the hard sur­face be­low her would re­main un­yield­ing, 
too. There would be no es­cap­ing the full im­pact of the fuck­ing, ex­actly the way her 
hus­band de­cided to give it to her.

 "If you don‘t work those ass muscles the way you were told to, I‘m gonna start in on 
your ass with the belt again,“ he snarled.

 Poor Dolly star­ted work­ing her ass like a strip­per. In­deed, the cunt froth star­ted 
in her young twat.

 Don­ald stroked his big piece of dick as she per­formed for him. The show was a hot
one for him, and he was get­ting ready to sink, his meat into her cunt.

 He had been brought nearly to or­gasm sev­eral times earlier in the day when Dolly 
worked her mouth on his or­gan. When he stopped just be­fore cum­ming sev­eral times, like
that, he really blas­ted a load when he fi­nally hit his jack­pot.

 Dolly‘s pretty doll of a body writhed about as much as the re­straints would al­low. 
Her ass was poised up­ward pro­voc­at­ively, and her pink pussy was cream­ing the lus­cious 
lub­ric­a­tion which was re­quired for the fuck­ing.

 When her hus­band‘s dick was hard as a rock, he was ready to prove to her that his 
most mag­ni­fi­cent muscle was right between his legs. It was hanging down limply. It was up 
and it was rar­ing to go.

 He got down and .spread her-pussy lips apart. He looked in­side at the nude in­ner 
pussy. It was wet and fleshy. Oh, that spongy va­gina flesh. He knew how warm and 
won­der­ful it was when he sank his dick all the way in.

 And as Dolly moaned, he in­ser­ted the head of his pecker in­side her va­gina from 
be­hind. When he screwed her dog­gie-style, Dolly liked to reach down and play with her 
clit­oris. His dick filled her, but she needed to work her clit with her own fin­gers in or­der to 
ex­per­i­ence cli­max.

 But since her wrists were tied to the bar­bell, that would be im­possible this time. He
was go­ing to make her ex­per­i­ence the en­tire fuck­ing without cum­ming. When he was 
ready to let her cum, then he‘d squeeze her clit him­self.

 He was the mas­ter of the house, al­right! He was the mas­ter of Dolly‘s cunt, too, 
and the soft cun­tal flesh was filling up.

 The lips par­ted and the walls stretched for the in­vad­ing mem­ber. He entered her
slowly. After all, the only lub­ric­a­tion he used this time was her cun­tal fluid. That was quite a
bit, but he wanted to be sure not to rip her del­ic­ate cun­tal mem­branes.

 "Oh, oh Don­ald, oh!“ Dolly cried. The dick was sink­ing into her.

 "Here I come again,“ he told Dolly. He was push­ing for­ward into her and she was 
lov­ing every inch of his ap­proach.

 He went in a ways, and then pulled back. Then he star­ted for­ward into her twat 
once more, only to pull back again.

 He did this over and over so that Dolly was well-teased. He had her beg­ging him to
shove the whole thing in to the hilt, but he wasn‘t go­ing to make it that easy on her.

 He in­ser­ted a bit more cock each time he moved down into her cunt, but he 
pulled out fur­ther and fur­ther each time, too.

 When the flared head of his massive dong ap­proached the lips each time he 
re­trac­ted, Dolly would beg him not to take the dick away.

 "You‘re lucky you‘re get­ting my dick at all,“ he told her. "I had been think­ing of 
keep­ing it from you for a month. I was gonna jerk it off in front of you and make you watch 
all that fab­ulous scum drop onto the floor.“

 "I would lick it up off the floor,“ she moaned hotly.

 "You would if I let you,“ he shot back. "But more than likely I‘d have you tied to the 
bed while you watched me. Then maybe I‘d in­vite some old girl­friend of mine over and have 
her get all my cum while you watched.“

 Dolly didn‘t an­swer. She didn‘t like it when her hus­band spoke of his former 
girl­friends, and she hated it when he told her that he was in con­tact with these girls from 
time to time.

 She knew that he had been quite a ladies‘ man in his school days, and his army days.
She also knew that from time to time, one of his old girl­friends would call him, and they‘d go 
out to­gether.

 She never asked him what he did on these dates with his former girl­friends. It 
wasn‘t that she wasn‘t curi­ous. She was, but she didn‘t want to know the truth. She was afraid
of what the truth might be, and so she closed her eyes to it en­tirely.

 All she knew was that after one of his nights out with a former girl­friend, Don­ald 
al­ways fucked her twice as hard as usual. It was good.

 So she didn‘t want to know any­thing after one of these dates ex­cept if he still 
loved her and cared for her as much as he did be­fore. He would al­ways an­swer ‚yes‘ and 
prove it with his fuck­ing.

 And yet it bothered Dolly very much to think that Don­ald might give his spunk to 
one of his former girl­friends in her pres­ence. It bothered her twice as much, know­ing that if 
she so much as even spoke to one of her former boy­friends, she would feel the brunt of it 
from Don­ald and his flail­ing pun­ish­ments. That pun­ish­ment box would be out in no time
flat.

 But she de­cided not to worry about some­thing that hadn‘t happened. Don­ald 
was only talk­ing, and there was noth­ing more to it than that. She cast the anxi­ety out of her
mind so that she could en­joy the full be­ne­fit of this fab­ulous fuck.

 It was as hard a fuck as she ima­gined it would be. The floor was un­yield­ing and 
she did have to keep her cunt in one po­s­i­tion for the bom­bard­ment of Don­ald‘s cock. 
And bom­bard­ment it was.

 He had teased her long enough. He had pulled in and out, up and back, enough 
times to make her cunt walls beg for more, but deeper.

 And so, just when she least ex­pec­ted it, Don­ald plunged the full length of his 
boner in to the deep­est part of her cunt!

 "Ah­h­hhh!“ she screamed. "You hit bot­tom!“ He could feel the head of his cock up 
against in­ner cun­tal flesh that was so deep, he thought that he had not touched that area in 
all the times he fucked her in over a year of mar­riage.

 He had reached a vir­gin area in a devir­gin­ized cunt! He kept his cock 
em­bed­ded all the way in­side. Just as when he had the full length of his dick in her throat, it 
was a strain on Dolly to keep the full length of his prick in her cunt.

 But in her po­s­i­tion, she could only lie there and take it.

 He was in so far that he could feel his balls sit­ting up on her ass cheeks. The flesh 
was still hot from the beat­ing he had ad­min­istered.

 The warmth of her well-spanked ass cheeks stirred the cum in his nuts.

 He be­came so aroused, that he star­ted a fuck mo­tion more fren­zied than any he 
had laid into her be­fore. It was a real pis­ton ac­tion which sent the cun­tal gravy in her moist
hole gush­ing out the lips.

 Bam, bam, bam. He, rammed his thing up her cunt with a fury.





CHAPTER THREE


Dolly‘s cunt was aching sev­eral days after her fuck­ing. That didn‘t mean that 
Don­ald didn‘t keep banging her all week long.

 When Don­ald was hot, he made sure that his Dolly was there to take his load of 
gism. He awoke each morn­ing with a hard-on, and he re­lieved him­self up Dolly‘s cunt. At 
night he‘d fuck her, too. Some­times he‘d fuck her be­fore din­ner, some­times after, and 
of­ten, he‘d fuck her be­fore din­ner and after din­ner, too.

 Once or twice a week he‘d show up at the house in the middle of the day. He 
claimed that he‘d got­ten horny think­ing about Dolly while he was at his job, and that he 
needed a pick-me-up fuck boost.

 If Dolly wasn‘t home when he got there, he made sure that he waited for her un­til 
she ar­rived. He wanted to see that she had been out do­ing the shop­ping, or had been 
tak­ing his clothes to the clean­ers.

 He wanted to make cer­tain that she didn‘t ar­rive home on the arm of an­other 
man. Don­ald was jeal­ous, to say the very least. And Dolly was faith­ful to her hus­band 
one-hun­dred per­cent.

 He had never caught Dolly at any­thing, and he be­lieved that it was his strict 
at­ti­tude which made her know bet­ter than to try any­thing out of line.

 Even without an aching cunt, Dolly would have been con­cen­trat­ing on her pussy 
when she walked into town to see what was hap­pen­ing there. She was be­ing watched by 
every Tom, Dick and Harry. She knew it, and she dug it. But she found her­self look­ing back at
them, des­pite her hus­band‘s warn­ings.

 "Good morn­ing, Mrs. Pritchard,“ Jimmy said as Dolly entered the phar­macy.

 "Good morn­ing, Jimmy,“ Dolly replied with a smile. She al­ways had a spe­cial smile
for Jimmy be­cause Jimmy was, well, Jimmy was spe­cial.

 Jimmy was eight­een years old, but he barely looked it. He was tall and lean, with 
sandy blond hair and a boy­ish smile. He was a little bit shy around Dolly, but she liked to 
watch how quickly he would warm up when they spoke to one an­other whenever she vis­ited
the phar­macy where Jimmy worked .after school.

 This morn­ing Dolly had al­most hoped that she would avoid see­ing Jimmy. In fact,
that was one reason why she had gone into the store be­fore noon. She be­lieved that he 
would only be there in the late af­ter­noon, after three-thirty when school let out.

 But school had let out early that af­ter­noon. His af­ter­noon and morn­ing classes 
at St. Fran­cis Academy had been can­celled.

 It wasn‘t that Dolly didn‘t want to see Jimmy‘s hand­some face. It was just that she 
was buy­ing some­thing that was a little bit per­sonal and she was a bit shy about ask­ing him
for it. Mr. St. Marks, the store­keeper, was in the back.

 "What can I do for you today, Mrs. Pritchard?“ young Jimmy asked.

 "Oh, I‘d like some tooth­paste,“ she said, not yet ready to tell him what it really was 
that she wanted.

 "Some­thing that‘ll give your mouth some sex ap­peal?“ he asked. And then he 
quickly ad­ded, "Not that your mouth isn‘t very sexy now. It is.“

 She smiled. "My hus­band likes that flu­or­ide tooth­paste, Jimmy.“

 "Oh, yeah,“ Jimmy answered, re­mem­ber­ing that Mrs. Pritchard be­longed to 
some­body else. He fan­tas­ized about her from time to time, won­der­ing what it would be 
like to feel her lips on his, to kiss her, or to sleep with her for a night.

 "Oh, and Jimmy, one more thing,“ Dolly said as an af­ter­thought.

 "Yes, Mrs. Pritchard?“ the hand­some boy asked.

 "Uh, Jimmy, come here a minute.“

 The boy had turned away to get the tooth­paste when Dolly called him back. There 
was some­thing else and she had to whis­per it to him. Their faces were so close, they were 
prac­tic­ally touch­ing noses.

 "Jimmy, do you have any­thing for a sore, uh, a sore wo­man‘s thing?“ she 
whispered.

 "A sore wo­man‘s thing?“ he asked, a bit con­fused.

 "Yes, You know the little pussy that a wo­man has between her legs. Mine is sore 
from too much activ­ity with my hus­band.“

 Jimmy‘s face turned red and he felt his heart start beat­ing faster and faster. This 
was too much. He was sure that he knew what she meant. Jimmy was used to hav­ing wo­men
ask him for sorts of per­sonal things. There were plenty of things in a drug store for a 
wo­man‘s vari­ous privates.

 But this was Dolly Pritchard, the one doll he dreamed about. He could hardly 
be­lieve that Dolly Pritchard was talk­ing to him about her pussy, Did he have any­thing for 
her sore pussy? Did he ever! His tongue!

 But that thought left his head as soon as it had entered. It was just a thought.

 "I‘ll ask Mr. St. Marks,“ Jimmy told her. "He‘ll know.“

 "Oh, uh, al­right Jimmy,“ Dolly replied.

 The boy went into the back room and told Mr. St. Marks what Dolly had said to him.
Mr. St. Marks gave the boy sev­eral salves and a re­lax­ant for aching muscles which was to be
put in a tub of warm wa­ter. "Have her soak it in this,“ he said.

 "Here, Mrs. Pritchard,“ Jimmy said. He gave Dolly the vari­ous creams and soak­ing 
salts, and told her what his boss had said. He for­got about the tooth­paste, and so did Dolly.

 "I wish I had a nice whirl­pool bath to soak it in,“ Dolly told Jimmy. "That would feel 
real good on it.“

 "I go to a gym near here on Sat­urdays. They have a whirl­pool bath,“ Jimmy said.

 "Oh, maybe I can go there. I have a few hours be­fore I have to be home to start 
din­ner for my hus­band.“

 "I don‘t think you‘ll be able to get in, Mrs. Pritchard. You have to be a mem­ber, and 
the club is so full now, they‘re not let­ting any new people in for a few months, at least,“ 
Jimmy told her.

 "Oh,“ Dolly sighed, turn­ing«her beau­ti­ful smile into a pout.

 Jimmy hated to see her un­happy, even for a mo­ment. He quickly made an 
al­tern­ate sug­ges­tion.

 "I have a card though,“ he smiled. "It has my name on it. If it didn‘t, I‘d give it to you 
and let you go in my place. But us­ing my card, I can bring a guest into the club. I could take 
you!“

 "Could you, Jimmy?“ Dolly said, her face light­ing up with en­thu­si­asm. "Oh, that 
would be great! But what about your job? Don‘t you have to stay at work?“

 Jimmy thought about it. It was true that he had a com­mit­ment with Mr. St. Marks 
to work. But he had come in early be­cause there was no school on that day. He was ac­tu­ally
sev­eral hours early, and the store didn‘t get busy un­til later in the af­ter­noon.

 "I‘ll just tell Mr. St. Marks that I‘ll be out for a while, I‘ll get back here at my reg­u­lar 
time. I‘m sure he won‘t mind. He was do­ing me a fa­vor by let­ting him help me out today.“

 "Oh, that‘s great,“ Dolly said. "But I in­sist on pay­ing you for the time you would 
have been earn­ing wages from Mr. St. Marks.“

 "Oh, you don‘t have to do that, Mrs. Pritchard,“ Jimmy said.

 "I in­sist. Now, come on and let‘s go. My little you-know-what is aching and I want 
to soak it in that whirl­pool so that I‘ll be all ready for my hus­band when he comes home 
from work.“

 Mr. St. Marks was nice about the whole thing, but when he saw Jimmy leav­ing with 
Dolly Pritchard, he raised his eye­brows. It seemed harm­less enough, but he knew that Dolly‘s
pussy was sore, and now he saw her leav­ing with the eight­een-year-old boy.

 Some­how he made the as­so­ci­ation between the two.

 But Mr. St. Marks knew when to keep his mouth quiet. He knew many secrets about 
the people in the town, simply be­cause of what products they bought in his shop. He knew 
which boys were buy­ing con­doms and which girls were on birth con­trol pills.

 When a guy got the clap, he waited to see which girls would next come to him for a 
pre­scrip­tion for the same thing. He knew all that and many more secrets, be­sides.

 And still he had a thriv­ing busi­ness, so he cer­tainly did know when to re­main 
quiet about his cus­tom­ers.

 He was al­most like a doc­tor in that re­spect. The cases of his buy­ers were held in 
strict con­fid­en­ti­al­ity.

 Dolly and Jimmy ar­rived at the Health Spa. Dolly was proud, in a way, to be seen 
with such a young man. As for Jimmy, he was pleased to be in the com­pany of a wo­man, a 
full-grown wo­man like Dolly.

 Dolly en­joyed talk­ing with Jimmy on the way to the health club. Jimmy had a lot to
say about his stud­ies and about his work in the drug store. He was so sweet, and Dolly felt 
that she could just eat him up.

 After he signed Dolly in as his guest, they went down to the chan­ging rooms. There
was‘ a locker room for males, and an­other one for fe­males, even though the swim­ming 
pool and the steam room and the whirl­pool were used by both sexes to­gether.

 Dolly was able to bor­row a bathing suit from the locker room at­tend­ant, even 
though the suit they gave her seemed to be about two sizes too small. It was very tight at the 
crotch, and the line of the suit cut into her private parts down there.

 She had to keep pulling the crotch of the suit down over her cun­tal realm. The lips 
were barely covered. A strand or two of blonde pussy hair poked out from un­der the suit.

 At the top, Dolly‘s big breasts seemed to stretch the suit like any­thing Jayne 
Mans­field had ever worn. Her large nipples poked out at the ma­ter­ial, and Dolly just knew 
that the top would sag on who­ever wore it after she did.

 When she met young Jimmy in the damp re­cre­ation area, she saw him in a 
bathing suit for the first time. He was hardly as mus­cu­lar as her hus­band Don­ald. He was 
softer and more gentle. Of course, Dolly glanced down at the bulge between his legs.

 It was not a huge bulge, .as her hus­band had, but it did seem as if the boy‘s prick 
was hard! It seemed to throb through the ma­ter­ial which had be­come shiny from the 
wa­ter. He‘d taken a swim across the pool be­fore Dolly had changed and come down.

 "It‘s hot down here with all the steam and all the heat,“ Dolly said.

 "Yeah, hot,“ Jimmy answered.

 "Well, come on, I hardly wait to get into the whirl­pool!“ Dolly en­thused.

 "Hey, there‘s go­ing to be a con­test. Some­body‘s go­ing to win two free tick­ets 
on a world cruise!“ a voice from be­hind them piped up. "They‘re pulling the lucky win­ners 
from the cards that‘ve come in today. They really wanna give the tick­ets away real bad. One 
of us has a chance to win!“

 "Oh, that‘s great,“ Dolly said. "I may get more out of this than just a whirl­pool 
bath,“ she ad­ded.

 The young boy and the busty blonde entered the whirl­pool slowly. Jimmy put his 
foot in the wa­ter to test the tem­per­at­ure of it. It was very“ hot. Dolly walked down the 
wooden steps into the large whirl­pool tub.

 She inched her way down the steps with care. Then she just de­cided to go all the 
way. She flopped in and her huge breasts floated above the sur­face of the wa­ter.

 The wa­ter was bub­bling up out of sev­eral spick­ets.

 "Wow! I feel it bub­bling up my be­hind,“ Dolly giggled in­no­cently as the wa­ter 
surged out and force­fully caressed her anus. "Come on in,“ she called to Jimmy.

 Jimmy was still chicken. The wa­ter was too hot for him. He didn‘t have as much 
fleshy pad­ding to pro­tect him from the heat as Dolly did.

 But Dooly took his hand and gave him a play­ful tug. He splashed into the wa­ter. 
Plop! He was all the way in and he wasn‘t even angry with Dolly for pulling him.

 Once he man­aged to get in the wa­ter did feel won­der­ful. He let it mas­sage his 
back as he im­mersed him­self to the neck. His chin was just be­low the wa­ter line.

 "Oh, look,“ Dolly smiled. "The wa­ter is bub­bling up so much, I can‘t even see our 
bod­ies un­der­neath it!“

 "I know we‘re both down there,“ Jimmy said. "I know we both have bod­ies be­low 
our necks. At least, we did when we first came in here.“

 Dolly star­ted gig­gling. She hadn‘t been out with a male other than her hus­band 
in over a year. It was fun. And Jimmy‘s youth brought out the play­ful­ness in her.

 "Let me see if I can feel you un­der the wa­ter,“ Dolly said.

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard, don‘t do that,“ the boy answered. He felt her foot find his foot. 
He felt her fin­gers find his belly. The rush­ing of the wa­ter made the en­tire sen­sa­tion that 
much more fun. And wild.

 It was great, but Jimmy was so ex­cited he was afraid that he might cum right then 
and there. He could just ima­gine the cum float­ing up to the sur­face of the whirl­pool, 
whirl­ing around and stick­ing on everything.

 But that didn‘t hap­pen, not yet any­way. What did hap­pen was a sur­prise to both 
Dolly and Jimmy. Dolly had be­come so dizzy with the heat, that she let go of her 
in­hib­i­tions and did what came nat­ur­ally for her. She for­got all about Don­ald her 
hus­band. She for­got about Don­ald‘s con­stant warn­ings. She touched Jimmy‘s dick!

 She felt the young boy-cock. She had been cor­rect. It had been erect all the time. It
was a thick piece of young meat, and it jerked slightly when she played with it un­der the hot, 
bub­bling wa­ter of the whirl­pool bath.

 Jimmy was shy about touch­ing Dolly un­der the wa­ter. He knew that nobody 
would be able to see him do it. The rush­ing wa­ter covered the bod­ies be­neath it, and 
be­sides, nobody was in the tub but the two of them. That wasn‘t what bothered him.

 He just didn‘t know if it would be right. Mrs. Pritchard was a mar­ried wo­man and 
everything. But damn, she was so in­vit­ing, and she was play­ing with him!

 He fi­nally summoned up enough nerve to do to her what she was do­ing to him. 
He really wanted to, and he just went ahead and did it.

 He placed his hand on the pussy which Dolly had said was sore. The bathing suit 
had rid­den way up on her cunt, ex­pos­ing much of the pussy lips un­der the wa­ter. He 
star­ted to slide his fin­gers un­der the bot­tom of the suit and he had her pussy in his hand.

 It was the first grown-up pussy he‘d ever had, and it felt like noth­ing he‘d ever felt 
be­fore. Aside from Dolly, there had only been Dorothy Minkin and Susanna Smith, two girls 
at school, but they were just little pussies.

 The hot wa­ter swirl­ing like rap­ids on their bod­ies made the feel­ing all the more 
won­der­ful. They both leaned back in the whirl­pool bath and re­laxed fully.

 The only parts of them which weren‘t re­laxed were their privates. His cock was 
hardly re­laxed. It was stiff. And Dolly‘s poor pussy was juicing right in the wa­ter.

 Dolly star­ted to moan and the sound echoed through the tiled room.

 "Oh, Jimmy,“ she said softly. "Mas­sage my pussy with your hands. It‘ll feel so much 
bet­ter, I know it will.“

 "How do I do that, Mrs. Pritchard?“ he asked.

 She took his hand and in­ser­ted right in­side the open­ing of her cunt. She 
dir­ec­ted his fin­gers to her clit.

 "Just rub very gently all around the area in­side the open­ing. Don‘t go too deeply. 
Just rub gently up and down and in little circles. Treat it lov­ingly and make it feel good. And 
please, Jimmy, don‘t neg­lect that little joy but­ton.“

 He figured out what the joy but­ton was. Each time he played with the little clit, 
Dolly star­ted to moan and move her lower torso around like a bitch in heat.

 Dolly‘s eyes began get­ting heavy-lid­ded. She let her face get closer to the boy‘s 
face. She let her lips pucker. She let the boy kiss her gently.

 His tongue probed its way into her mouth. She was a mar­ried wo­man and he was 
a teen­aged boy. They were in open view in a small town health club.

 It was scan­dal ma­ter­ial! If Don­ald ever found out, he‘d have Dolly‘s ass! Dolly 
was either beg­ging for a beat­ing by play­ing this sex game with young Jimmy,-or her pussy 
was buzz­ing so wildly that she had to give in to it.

 Whichever the case, she was headed for trouble! Cunt trouble! But the boy‘s kisses 
were sweeter than wine. And he was so hot for Dolly. He was filled with boy sperm, and he 
needed a warm place to rocket his load.

 They were en­joy­ing each other be­low the wa­ter and above it, too. They were 
feel­ing each other up and mak­ing the most of an early af­ter­noon di­ver­sion.

 And then Dolly heard a fa­mil­iar voice. It was the voice that woke her up each 
morn­ing. It was the voice of her hus­band, Don­ald Pritchard!

 Dolly‘s baby blues opened wider than her cunt. A mir­ror stretched across one wall 
of this health club, and she could see Don­ald‘s power­ful frame re­flec­ted in the glass. What 
was worse than that for Dolly was the fact that he was headed her way.

 "Oh, my gosh!“ she ex­claimed.

 "What‘s the mat­ter? Did I hurt you?“ Jimmy blur­ted out. His hand was still in­side 
her pussy-snatch.

 "No, but if that man over there catches us, he‘ll sure make me hurt. It‘s my 
hus­band!“ That was about the worst thing that Dolly could have uttered at that mo­ment, as 
far as Jimmy was con­cerned. He‘d heard about angry hus­bands and what they do to 
naughty, cheat­ing wives.

 He‘d heard about what they do to the guys, too. He took one look at the muscle 
bound male com­ing in from the locker room and he knew this wouldn‘t be easy.

 "I‘m gonna take me a dip in the pool,“ the man was heard to say.

 The pool was just along­side the whirl­pool. It was dan­ger­ously close.

 Dolly held onto young Jimmy for dear life. There was no way that she could make a 
quick get­away this time. All she could do was keep her head just above wa­ter level, hop­ing 
that the rim of the wooden whirl­pool would hide her from his sight.

 She was so nervous, her teeth were chat­ter­ing, even in the hot wa­ter. At a time 
like this, she needed to be fucked. Maybe that would re­lieve her ten­sions. She could think of
noth­ing else.

 "Fuck me, Jimmy,“ she rasped. "Fuck me.“

 "Mrs. Pritchard!“ Jimmy ex­claimed, "do you wanna get us both killed! It‘s bad 
enough that we‘re in this tub to­gether when you‘re not even a mem­ber of the health club. 
But if your hus­band caught us with my cock in­side of you, I don‘t know how we‘d ever get 
out of here alive.“

 "Oh, but Jimmy, this is my one chance to do what I really want. Even if my hus­band 
is in the same room, don‘t I have a right to do what I want. I want your prick.“

 "Mrs. Pritchard, has the heat got­ten to your head?“ he asked, ser­i­ously.

 Just then, Don­ald Pritchard climbed out of the swim­ming pool.

 "You know what I love?“ he yelled over to Jimmy, whose head was vis­ible over the 
rim of the whirl­pool while Dolly‘s was not.

 "Uh, no, sir, what is it that you love?“ Jimmy stammered.

 "I love to get into a whirl­pool after a swim. The pool is cool and the whirl­pool is 
hot. That‘s how the Swedes keep in good health, you know. They go from hot to cold, hot to 
cold.“

 It was get­ting hot­ter and hot­ter for Jimmy and for Dolly. "Oh, it‘s not so hot in 
this whirl­pool today. I don‘t think you‘d like it,“ Jimmy said when Dolly tugged at his cock and
squeezed his balls so that he‘d say some­thing, any­thing, to keep Don­ald Pritchard away 
from the whirl­pool.

 "Non­sense, young man,“ Don­ald replied laugh­ing. "I‘m com­ing in.“ Dolly was 
panic-stricken. There was only one thing that she could think of to do at this mo­ment. She 
simply wasn‘t able to face Don­ald and tell him any­thing, real or made-up, and so she did as 
the os­triches do. She ducked be­low the sur­face.

 When Don­ald star­ted to step into the whirl­pool, Dolly had just gone 
un­der­wa­ter. She clung between Jimmy‘s legs. Her body was hid­den by the bub­bling of 
the wa­ter as it whooshed out on all sides.

 She was sur­prised to find that the boy still had a hard-on des­pite all the anxi­ety. 
She was be­gin­ning to think that his prick never went down.

 "You‘re right,“ Don­ald said. "It isn‘t hot enough today.“ Dolly was curs­ing her­self 
un­der­wa­ter for not real­iz­ing that her mus­cu­lar hus­band used the health club. How in 
the world could she have for­got­ten about that? She had been fool­ish in­deed, and her 
breath wasn‘t hold­ing out.

 Even with her ex­pans­ive chest, she could only hold her breath for so long.

 Just then there was an an­nounce­ment over the loud­speaker.

 "We‘ve picked a win­ner in the sweepstakes. One of you lucky club mem­bers has 
won a world cruise for two on board the S.S. Noonan. And the win­ner is, Mr. Don­ald, 
Pritchard.“

 "That‘s me!“ Don­ald shouted with glee. "That‘s me!“ He splashed out of the 
whirl­pool, grin­ning hap­pily at Jimmy and then at his face in the long wall mir­ror. He 
bounded out of the pool area and made his way to­ward the front desk to claim his prize.

 He left not a mo­ment too soon. Dolly, who hadn‘t heard any of what was go­ing 
on, since she‘d been un­der­wa­ter, came up like a seal. Her breath wouldn‘t hold out 
an­other mo­ment and she had to come up and face whatever awaited her.

 "Where‘s Don­ald?“ she asked, her face wet and sur­prised.

 "He‘s just gone out to claim his tick­ets on the lux­ury liner. You and he will be 
go­ing around the world,“ Jimmy said, his face a blank.

 "Folks, Mr. Pritchard has just claimed his prize,“ the voice an­nounced over the 
speak­ers. "He says that he‘s go­ing back to his of­fice to show all the people there, and then 
he‘ll give his wife the sur­prise of her life.“

 Dolly looked at Jimmy. "Good,“ she said. "We have time to fuck.“ Jimmy was 
shak­ing after the or­deal, but he, wasn‘t com­plain­ing.

 "Come on with me,“ Dolly said, tak­ing Jimmy by the hand and lead­ing him from 
the whirl­pool to­ward the steam room. "We‘ll do it in here.“

 They pushed open the glass door to the room and a lot of hot steam swirled out. 
In­side, wet steam filled the room. Again, it was nearly im­possible to see what was go­ing on, 
this time be­cause the heavy steam was like thick smoke which hid everything which was more
than a few inches from a per­son‘s face.

 There was a bench built into the tiled wall, and Dolly was get­ting ag­gress­ive. She 
prac­tic­ally pushed young Jimmy down on the bench and star­ted milk­ing his cock with her 
mouth. Need­less to say, the young boy­stick was still hard, in fact, it was harder than ever 
with Dolly‘s mouth wrapped around it, slid­ing up and down with lust.

 The next thing Jimmy knew, Dolly had stripped off the ‚too-tight bathing suit. She 
stretched the suit around Jimmy‘s neck, hold­ing each end in a hand as she held onto his cock
with her mouth.

 She was bob­bing back and forth lust­fully. The sound of wet slurp­ing was filling 
the steamy room as she sucked and sucked and sucked.

 This was the first cock she had sucked be­sides her hus­band‘s cock. It wasn‘t as 
large as Don­ald‘s, but she didn‘t mind at all. It fit her mouth bet­ter than Don­ald‘s over­sized
rod,‘ and the boy made such mar­velous moan­ing sounds, it turned her on!

 Her na­ked breasts were boun­cing back and forth in the steam-filled room as she 
bobbed back and forth on the boy cock. Her pussy hair was limp from the steam, and the hair 
on her head hung in straggles.

 They were mak­ing their own steam and it was rising up from the fric­tion of her 
wet mouth on his young cock.

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard you really know how to suck,“ Jimmy groaned.

 The girls in his classes at school didn‘t suck nearly as well as this wo­man.

 She took her mouth off his cock for a mo­ment be­cause she had some­thing to say
to him. She wanted to do more than suck his cock.

 "I‘m work­ing on your prick to get it good and hard. I want you to fuck me with it.“

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard,“ the boy gasped. He wanted to. He was al­ways afraid that he‘d 
be scared and do some­thing wrong when he fucked. Mrs. Pritchard had a way with him and 
he knew it would be just great. His cock had been rock-hard for all the time that they‘d been 
to­gether. He was sure that it would stay hard in­side her cunt.

 He was wor­ried about one thing. Be­ing a sales boy in the phar­macy, he knew 
about the prob­lems that some people had and he didn‘t want to cre­ate such prob­lems for 
him­self or for Mrs. Pritchard.

 "What about birth con­trol?“ he asked Dolly Pritchard.

 This was some­thing that she hadn‘t thought of. She had been try­ing to have a 
baby for the en­tire year of her mar­riage to Don­ald. Noth­ing had happened.

 Don­ald told her that he was sure that there was noth­ing wrong with him. He told 
Doily that there must be some reason why she couldn‘t have a baby.

 As much as Dolly wanted a child, she was afraid to con­front a doc­tor with her 
prob­lem. Many people are like that. Rather than face the prob­lem, they ig­nore it. This was 
Dolly‘s typ­ical mode of op­er­a­tion. Just as she had hid­den from her hus­band by duck­ing 
be­low the sur­face of the wa­ter in the whirl­pool, she avoided the tests and other 
in­con­veni­ences of med­ical ex­am­in­a­tion re­gard­ing her prob­lem.

 "I can‘t con­ceive a baby,“ she told Jimmy. "I don‘t know ex­actly why be­cause I 
haven‘t checked it out, but I don‘t pro­duce the right hor­mones, or some­thing, I guess. That 
makes it safe. I can‘t get preg­nant.“

 Jimmy had many things to ask her about re­gard­ing that. He wondered if her 
hus­band was dis­ap­poin­ted that she could not bear chil­dren. He wondered how she felt 
about it, and he hoped that she didn‘t feel badly.

 He thought of her as more than just a cunt. He had fallen for her from the first time 
he laid eyes on her in the phar­macy. Many a night he would think about her, and he would 
ima­gine him­self with her, kiss­ing her, fuck­ing her.

 And now he had what he‘d dreamed about. He had it all and he didn‘t even have to 
use rub­bers. She was even more than he‘d ima­gined she would be. She was pant­ing and 
beg­ging him to fuck her right there in the steam room.

 He was glad that he went to a club which had a steam room for both males and 
fe­males to­gether. That was the way it was in Ja­pan, and that was the way it should be.

 He was glad that he could feel her in his arms. She was even more than he‘d 
ima­gined she‘d be phys­ic­ally as well as men­tally. She was as well-con­struc­ted out of her 
clothes as she had seemed when she was fully dressed. In fact, her breasts were lar­ger than 
they‘d ap­peared when they were con­fined be­neath her top.

 They fleshed out over his hands as he held them.

 "Oh, baby,“ Dolly moaned. "I thought I could res­ist this. I‘ve res­isted this for a long
time. But it‘s so good. I want to go all the way. I want to sit on your cock. Let me sit on it. Let 
me sit on your cock, baby. Fuck me!“

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard, yes, yes, yes. My cock is up for you, and it‘s all wet with the spit 
from your mouth. If your pussy feels as good as your mouth, I‘ll cum!“

 "Yes, cum. Cum up in­side my womb. Fuck me, Jimmy.“ He took his stiff boy cock 
and held the fat thing up. It was dif­fi­cult for Dolly to see it in the steamy room, but when she
straddled him by pla­cing her feet on either side of his body on the bench, she was able to 
dir­ect it into her spread lips.

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard, your pussy lips feel so good. I‘m slid­ing my prick into your 
pussy. I can‘t be­lieve it, Mrs. Pritchard. Oh, wow!“

 "Be­lieve it, baby,“ Dolly rasped. "Wiggle that young piece of dick in­side of my wet 
cav­ern of sex heat and we‘ll know that it‘s real.“

 He did just that. He wiggled his prick and held it up in­side her twat. But she did 
most of the work. She slid up and down on his prong. Her feet were firm on the bench and 
she rocked and she moved up and down on his dork.

 "I really want to feel your prick all over in my pussy,“ she cried softly. "I want to feel 
it deep and I want to feel it scrap­ing against the wet walls. Oh, baby, fuck my cunt. I love the 
way you fuck me.“

 She could barely see the youth be­fore her, but it was cer­tainly in­ter­est­ing to 
fuck in all that mist. She rocked back and forth on his cock and it felt so damn good. She ran 
her fin­gers through the boy‘s hair. She pulled at his hair just to keep her­self from scream­ing
out in screams of pas­sion arousal. The sweat dripped.

 They were both hot as hell in the steamy room and Jimmy was cer­tainly en­joy­ing 
the best fuck of his young life. As for Dolly, she would be hard pressed to think of a more 
en­joy­able fuck for her cunt. Don­ald was great, but this young kid was won­der­ful also, and
in a way that ex­cited her like crazy. No won­der her clit was red hot.

 There was such danger in this fuck and that made it so ex­cit­ing. First of all, if she‘d 
been caught in a pub­lic place; it would be the end of her tail. Don­ald would make her ass 
look like a piece of raw meat after he got through with it.

 But the idea that they could get caught here in the steam room made it like a scene 
in a sexy spy movie or some­thing. Danger sparked or­gasm in Dolly Pritchard!

 "Do you think I‘m too young for you?“ the boy asked.

 "What do you think?“ Dolly moaned, rock­ing back and forth and slid­ing up and 
down on the shaft of his young piece of meat.

 There was no need to an­swer. It was ob­vi­ous that he was old enough to fuck her 
right, and in fact, she was turned on by the fact that she was sev­eral years older than he.

 Age didn‘t mat­ter now. All that mattered was the throb­bing pas­sion which was 
welling up in the con­nec­tion between his body and the body of Dolly Pritchard.

 The door to the steam room opened. The fuck­ers were in the midst of their .red hot
fuck. They were really go­ing at it, and it was hot and heavy.

 Jimmy froze, des­pite the heat, when the door opened and a man walked in. He 
could tell that it was a man be­cause when the door opened and the air from the out­side 
dis­persed the steam for a mo­ment, he could see the out­line of a mus­cu­lar, 
broad-shouldered mass.

 Dolly kept rock­ing back and forth on the dick,“ though. The steam hid her from the
view of any­one who might have come in, and the feel­ing of Jimmy‘s ever-hard prick 
stretch­ing her sore cunt was too much to lose. True, she had told Jimmy that her pussy was 
sore. It was. But Jimmy was giv­ing her the best rem­edy any­one could think of for an aching 
pussy. He was giv­ing her a lov­ing hot fuck!

 "I‘m so happy I could just go out and fuck the world,“ a man‘s voice said through 
the steam. "Wait‘ll Dolly hears that we‘ve won a cruise.“

 Gulp! Don­ald hadn‘t run right off to work. He was hanging around the health club 
for a while longer. He was in the very same steam room in which his wife was at the mo­ment. 
His cheat­ing wife was rid­ing a young boy‘s cock.

 Fate had helped them avoid the worst earlier in the af­ter­noon out in the 
whirl­pool. But could they ac­tu­ally es­cape the eagle eye of Don­ald Pritchard now that 
Dolly was boun­cing on Jimmy‘s prick there in the very same steam room?

 "I gave my wife a call to tell her the news, but she must‘ve been out do­ing the 
shop­ping,“ Don­ald Pritchard said. He didn‘t even know who he was talk­ing to, but Jimmy 
sure knew. Jimmy had a lump in his throat be­cause of the lump which was lodged in Dolly‘s 
pussy. He knew what Dolly had been out shop­ping for.

 She‘d picked up his boy dick!

 Don­ald sat him­self down a few feet away from the fuck­ers. The steam hid the 
sight of Don­ald‘s wife with her cunt hold­ing Jimmy‘s cock.

 Dolly had enough sense to stop boun­cing up and down on the thing. She just 
stayed with her cunt down deep on the dork. It felt so good filling her like that, and it pressed 
into, her cunt walls when she rocked from side to side.

 "Are we alone in here, kid?“ Don­ald asked Jimmy.

 "Uh, sure, sure. Of course we‘re alone. Why?“ Jimmy said.

 "Well, if we‘re alone we can talk some man talk. I wouldn‘t wanna of­fend any ladies,
and some­times ladies stick it out in here. ‚Course, it‘s a little bit hot in this steam room for 
ladies. I al­ways think that any bitches who stay in this room are just that; bitches.“

 This was in­ter­est­ing for Dolly to hear. She didn‘t say a word, of course. She only 
held Jimmy close and tried to calm his flut­ter­ing nerves with her caresses.

 He was nervous, but his dick was still hard and he knew that he had to go along 
with whatever fate had to of­fer at this point. He had to hope for the best.

 "Oh yeah, well what is it you wanna talk about?“ Jimmy asked.

 "Aw, my wife. I think she‘s been cheatin‘ on me,“ Don­ald said.

 "Really? What makes you think that?“ Jimmy asked.

 "Oh, I don‘t know. A guy just gets a feel­ing about that kind of thing. You‘re too 
young to know about that. You‘re not mar­ried yet, are you?“

 "No, sir. I‘m eight­een years old, go­ing on nine­teen. I‘m not mar­ried yet, sir. In 
fact, I don‘t even have a girl­friend.“

 "Well, it‘s a big thing be­ing mar­ried. You‘ll find out.“

 "Yeah, well,“ Jimmy said with much curi­os­ity, "what would you do if you found out 
for sure that your wife really was cheat­ing on you?“

 "She‘s been warned about what I‘d do. I‘d beat her black and blue. She wouldn‘t sit 
down for a week, I swear,“ Don­ald in­sisted sharply.

 "Oh,“ the boy said with a gulp. "And what about the guy? What if you found him in 
the midst of fuck­ing your wife or some­thing like that.“

 "I‘d knock his fuck­ing teeth out. Then I‘d, oh, I don‘t know. I think I‘d bet­ter for­get
about all that. The more I think about it, the worse I feel. Be­sides, this boat trip I just won will 
do a world of good for us both. Maybe it‘ll help Dolly re­lax enough to have a kid. A wo­man 
should give a man a baby, don‘t you think so?“

 "Uh, yes, sir, I agree with you,“ Jimmy said. "A ship cruise is good for that. It 
some­times helps. Some­times a wo­man is just too nervous. She needs a nice long voy­age 
out on the sea to re­lax her pussy muscles, I guess.“

 Dolly clamped her cun­tal muscles tightly around Jimmy‘s shaft. When she heard his
re­mark she also snaked her head up to his breast and gave it a bite.

 "Ouch!“ Jimmy yelped.

 "What was that, son?“ Mr. Pritchard asked.

 "Oh, noth­ing. I just burned my bot­tom on the hot bench,“ he said.

 "Well, young man,“ Don­ald Pritchard said, get­ting up from the bench, "I hope that 
someday you find a cunt as warm and wet and deep and tight as the beau­ti­ful pussy of my 
hot-clit­ted wife. I hope you find it soon.“

 "Thank you, sir,“ Jimmy said, as he pressed his prick into the very cunt of which the 
muscle­man spoke. "Thanks a lot for everything and con­grat­u­la­tions on the trip.“

 "You bet!“ Don­ald Pritchard replied.

 When he closed the door Dolly‘s cunt showed Jimmy how happy she was.

 She pushed her­self all the way down on his boy cock, and even stuffed his balls 
into the open­ing of her hole.

 "You were won­der­ful!“ she giggled.

 "Not as won­der­ful as I‘m gonna be in your cunt,“ he told her.

 "Oh, yes, baby, give it to me that sweet, gentle way of yours,“ Dolly moaned.

 "No way^ baby!“ Jimmy snapped, sud­denly turn­ing the tables. "You‘re a real 
fuck­ing bitch, you know that?“

 "Jimmy, what do you mean? How can you talk to me that way?“ Dolly gasped.

 "You‘re a slut, that‘s all there is to it. What kind of wo­man rides a 
nine­teen-year-old prick in the steam room of a health club while her hus­band sits in there 
with them? You de­serve to be beaten, baby. You de­serve the whip­ping your hus­band is 
gonna give you when he finds out.“

 "But he won‘t ever have to find out,“ Dolly said, whim­per­ing.

 "For your sake I hope he never does,“ Jimmy replied. "But for now, I‘m gonna give 
you a fuck­ing that‘ll really have your cunt sore.“

 He placed his hands on Dolly‘s full but­tocks. He lif­ted her with his hands while he 
turned her over so that she was flat on her back on the bench. His cock never left the warm 
womb of her pussy while he did this.

 "Wrap your flirty legs around me and take it,“ Jimmy snapped.

 "Oh, Jimmy, please go gentle. My pussy is sore now and I just know that my 
hus­band will really give it to me later, es­pe­cially now that he‘s won the sweepstakes.“

 "Tough luck, slut,“ Jimmy said. All of his an­ger was up. He could have been killed 
be­cause of Dolly‘s ways. He knew that if Don­ald had seen through the steam, it would have 
been the end for him.

 "Ow, ow, ow, ah, oh,“ Dolly cried as the boy used his nine­teen-year-old prick as a 
weapon in her cunt. He was ram­ming her. He was really giv­ing it to her.

 "Whores that cheat on their hus­bands de­serve to take it like this. You heard how 
happy your hus­band is with your cunt. You heard him say it. Well, you should be 
horse­whipped. I‘m not go­ing to do it, be­cause it would leave marks and then I‘d get in 
trouble. Not that you‘d care. You just like to get screwed, that‘s all.“

 "You‘re wrong, Jimmy, you‘re wrong. I like you as a per­son. I love my hus­band, too.
But I‘m a pas­sion­ate wo­man, Jimmy. I need it from more than one man. I need a lot of it. I 
need it all the time.“

 "Yeah, slut, take it.“

 Jimmy didn‘t even think that he had this power in him. He didn‘t think that he could 
ever treat a wo­man this way, es­pe­cially one as beau­ti­ful as Dolly Pritchard.

 But her brazen at­ti­tude re­gard­ing fuck­ing in front of her hus­band struck a note
in his be­ing. He couldn‘t tol­er­ate it. He sided with her hus­band. He be­lieved that any 
wo­man who did such a thing should be beaten.

 He, after all, was a young male, and as a male, he un­der­stood that side of the 
pic­ture. He wasn‘t go­ing to beat her be­cause he wasn‘t mar­ried to her. But he was go­ing 
to get his rocks off in her cunt by giv­ing her a hard fuck which threw pain into her twat. She 
de­served it and it would make him cum fast.

 Jimmy slam-fucked her naughty cunt the way Don­ald had bumped her pussy the 
night be­fore. Don­ald had even screwed her that very morn­ing, so it was no won­der her 
pussy was bruised. It would really carry the pain of this fuck­ing after Jimmy was done.

 Dolly could hardly breathe between the fuck­ing of the teen­ager and the heavy 
steam which con­sumed her. She real­ized that even if other people came into the steam 
room at this point in the fuck­ing, it would be un­likely that Jimmy would cease his 
re­lent­less and mer­ci­less plow­ing of his boner in her cun­tal pud­ding.

 The spongy va­gina took all the blows. She had no choice.

 It was like a beat­ing. In­stead of beat­ing her with a belt, Jimmy was beat­ing her 
with his cock. He was beat­ing his an­ger into her cunt and every stroke was as much a 
pun­ish­ment as it would have been had he been giv­ing it to her with a belt across her ass.

 "Take it, Mrs. Pritchard, take it,“ the boy said in a strangled voice. His voice was 
strangled with fever. He was get­ting ready to blast. His nuts tingled as if there were a 
thou­sand tiny pins prick­ing each nut. His dick was on fire and it was sear­ing, the cunt walls 
of Dolly Pritchard.

 He was fuck­ing her so hard she thought her hips would split apart. She was so 
ex­hausted, she could hardly keep her legs open.

 But his plunging prick took care of that. There was no way she could avoid the 
beat­ing of his cock into her cunt.

 The deep thrusts to the depths of her cun­tal cav­ern, com­bined with the scrap­ing
of her clit and the fric­tion on her pussy lips, brought her to her cli­max.

 "Oh, Jimmy, you‘re killing me with your prick and it‘s mak­ing me cum.“

 "I knew you liked it hard and hurtin‘, Mrs. Pritchard. I knew that would make you 
cum. You were cruis­ing for a bruis­ing. That‘s why you pro­voked your hus­band. If he‘d 
caught you, you would have taken a whip­ping right herb in the steam room.

 "So in­stead you‘re tak­ing my cunt whip­ping. Oh, ah, Mrs. Pritchard. I‘m 
cum­ming, too!“ Her cun­tal spasms and con­vul­sions triggered his or­gasm when her twat 
walls mas­saged his dick like crazy.

 For some reason, the steam in the room stopped pour­ing through the spick­ets, 
and the steam dis­persed, leav­ing the two fuck­ers in pools of sweat.

 A pool of boy-jizz was lodged in­side Dolly‘s cunt.

 She licked the boy‘s face with her wet tongue muscle.

 "Thank you for pun­ish­ing me,“ she sighed. "I needed that.“

 "Yeah, well, I think you‘d bet­ter get home be­fore your hus­band does. I know he‘ll 
beat you if you come home late.“

 "I don‘t know how I‘d take any­thing more,“ she sighed.

 But of course, there would much more for Dolly Pritchard to en­dure. She was a 
cheat­ing wife, and she‘d have to pay. For now, she let the hot spunk of the young boy fill her 
hot pussy. His sperm swam into her womb.





CHAPTER FOUR


Run­ning along in a bow-legged trot, Dolly man­aged to get back home just 
minutes be­fore Don­ald re­turned home.

 "Dolly! I‘m home,“ he called.

 The busty blonde beauty went to meet him at the door.

 "Well, Hello Dolly!“ he sang out in tune to the song from the Broad­way mu­sical.

 "Well, Hello Don­ald,“ she replied in har­mony. "What makes you so cheer­ful?“ she 
asked, al­though she had a pretty good idea.

 "Oh, let‘s just say I‘ve got a sur­prise for you. Some­thing to help you with the 
baby.“ Dolly‘s face turned sad. "You‘re not go­ing to start up with that baby thing again, are 
you? You want me to get preg­nant, but you want it so badly, it‘s mak­ing it hard on me. 
We‘re try­ing too hard.“

 "I‘ll make it hard on you,“ Don­ald said, .los­ing his happy grin.

 Dolly didn‘t know if he meant that he‘d fuck her hard, beat her hard, or what. With 
Don­ald it could have meant any­thing.

 "Honey, I just can‘t have a baby. It must be im­possible. You told me that your­self.“

 "I‘m not a doc­tor. You should go to a doc­tor and find out what‘s wrong with you. 
It couldn‘t be hered­it­ary. You‘re mother had a baby, didn‘t she?“

 "Well, I think that‘s pretty ob­vi­ous, isn‘t it,“ Dolly answered dryly.

 "Aw, look, honey,“ her hus­band said, soften­ing. "I don‘t want to see you in a bad 
mood to­night. I‘ve got a great sur­prise for you. I know you‘ll be happy.“

 "Al­right, tell me what it is?“ Dolly said.

 "Not so fast I want this to be spe­cial. Now, you go and fix us some drinks.“ Dolly 
turned and went into the kit­chen where she kept the booze. Don­ald took a look at that full 
ass of hers and he couldn‘t keep from fol­low­ing be­hind her like a pussy­cat fol­low­ing a 
fish­er­man who‘s car­ry­ing his catch on a rod over his shoulder.

 The only thing was, Dolly was the pussy and Don­ald had the rod.

 "Oh!“ Dolly yelped when she felt Don­ald pinch her ass. "You startled me.“

 "I couldn‘t keep away from you, baby,“ he told her. "I‘m so fuck­ing hot.“

 "Al­right, al­right,“ she told him. "Let‘s get some drinks down our throats first. If we 
start now, we‘ll never get the drinks, and frankly, I need a drink. I‘ve had a rough day.“

 "Oh, yeah, I meant to ask you about that. I tele­phoned here dur­ing the day. You 
weren‘t home. Where were you?“

 "Don­ald, must you know my where­abouts at every mo­ment? Can‘t you trust me 
an inch?“ Dolly asked.

 "I can trust you an inch, Dolly,“ her hus­band answered. "It‘s the six, seven and eight 
inches that I can‘t trust you.“

 "Well, for your in­form­a­tion I was out at St. Marks drug­store get­ting some­thing 
to soothe my pussy. You fucked me so much, I needed some­thing to calm it down.“

 "Yeah, did they slip it in for you?“ Don­ald asked sar­castic­ally.

 "Oh, Don­ald, stop it. Come on, let‘s have some drinks, and you can tell me about 
this won­der­ful sur­prise you have for me,“ Dolly said, bring­ing the sub­ject back around to 
any­thing that didn‘t have to do with Jimmy and the steam room fuck.

 She brought the li­quor out from the cab­inet, and she also brought out a book she
had been sav­ing for such an oc­ca­sion. It was a book of nasty jokes, and she opened the 
page to read a list of spe­cial drinks.

 "What would you like me to mix for you?“ she said. "I could give you a muff-diver.“

 "What the fuck is a muff-diver?“ Don­ald asked, get­ting into the spirit.

 "You should know, darling,“ Dolly cooed. "You are one, aren‘t you?“

 "Not too of­ten, baby,“ Don­ald replied. "Only when the muff‘s as sweet as yours.“

 "Well, I mix a real sweet muff-diver. It‘s a very short drink in a very tall glass. And if 
you‘re really thirsty, you might want a Vir­gin‘s Ruin.“

 "What‘s in a Vir­gin‘s Ruin?“

 "Vodka, or­ange juice, and a bus­ted cherry.“ They both laughed.

 "No, give me some­thing that really fits my per­son­al­ity,“ Don­ald said.

 Dolly scanned the pages of the book. "How about a Mar­quis de Sade?“ she said 
after com­par­ing her hus­band‘s per­son­al­ity with the names of the fun drinks.

 Don­ald wasn‘t too thrilled. He didn‘t think of him­self as a sad­ist. He beat his wife 
only when he felt she de­served it, and then for her own good and cor­rec­tion. Dis­cip­line 
was an im­port­ant thing for him. He be­lieved in it.

 "A Mar­quis de Sade,“ Dolly con­tin­ued, read­ing from the book, "is best served on 
the racks. Not the rocks, dear, the racks. It‘s scotch, rye, bour­bon, gin, vodka, and rum in 
equal parts. No ice, no soda, no noth­ing. Or maybe you‘d like a Sad­ist‘s De­light. It‘s Chivas 
Regal and ker­osene in a fros­ted glass.“

 "Ker­osene‘s ex­pens­ive,“ Don­ald snapped. "Give me that book!“ He ripped the 
book from Dolly‘s hands. "Here, let me find some­thing that suits you and your drink­ing 
per­son­al­ity.“

 He scanned the page as Dolly seated her­self on a kit­chen chair. She was ready for 
a laugh, after hav­ing had one on her hus­band.

 "Ah, here‘s some­thing that‘s per­fect for you,“ he said. "The Cocks­man. A good, 
stiff sat­is­fy­ing drink.“

 "My pussy is pretty sore. I think it would sting when you poured it in.“

 "Ah, Dolly, here‘s a per­fect drink for you. It‘s per­fect for to­night be­cause it refers 
to what I want to hap­pen on this, oh, I al­most spoiled the sur­prise,“ Don­ald said.

 "Well, what is it?“ Dolly asked. She was talk­ing about the sur­prise and the spe­cial 
drink he‘d picked for her, as well.

 "It‘s called a Tit-Wringer. Scotch and mother‘s milk.“ The re­mark cut right through 
Dolly. "Don­ald, don‘t you real­ize how hard I‘ve been work­ing on hav­ing a baby for you. It‘s
just not that easy.“ Her voice was harsh and strident. She was ir­rit­ated and it showed.

 "I‘ll show you how easy it is, you spoiled little cunt,“ he snapped. He was both angry 
and play­ful at the same time. He felt that she needed some sense fucked into her, and yet he 
was in too good a mood to be really angry.

 With one quick move­ment he got hold of Dolly‘s shoulders and picked her up off 
the chair, onto the kit­chen table.

 "Don­ald, what are you do­ing?“ she screamed.

 "I‘m gonna fuck you right here on the kit­chen table,“ he an­nounced.

 "Don­ald, don‘t. No, no, stop,“ she cried. She was kick­ing and fight­ing him off, but 
he over­powered her eas­ily. He pinned her to the table, and star­ted work­ing^ her panties 
down off her body.

 The reason for her fight­ing was a simple one. Her panties were damp with an­other
male‘s cum. Her cunt was filled with the boy cum of a teen­ager.

 She knew that when her hus­band stuck his weapon into her cunt-hole, the jizz 
would spew out and give her away. She knew that Don­ald would then do some­thing drastic.
He might even tie her to the kit­chen table and ... oh, it was too hor­rible to even con­sider as 
the pos­sib­il­it­ies flashed be­fore her.

 "Yeah, I love to rape my wife on the kit­chen table,“ he laughed. "Fight me, honey. I 
love it when you fight me. It gives me all the more reason to knock you around. You‘ll learn 
who wears the pants in this fam­ily, baby. And you‘ll learn who rips the panties off and starts 
plow­ing.“

 "Please, please, no,“ Dolly begged. It seemed that she was al­ways beg­ging for him 
to stop, or to start. "I can‘t. Not now. Later, not now,“ she cried.

 "I said now! Don­ald is hot now and Don­ald ex­pects you to spread it and take it.“ 
He was hard and it wasn‘t dif­fi­cult for him to snag her pussy with his tool.

 She screamed as the dick sailed into her snatch. He was fa­mil­iar enough with his 
wife‘s pussy to know just how to throw the stick into her. He jabbed his pecker into the moist 
slit formed by Dolly‘s peachy pussy lips.

 The dick went right in, "You‘re good and wet,“ he told her when he felt his prong 
slide in so eas­ily. "You‘re so full of crap, Dolly. You beg me not to do it, but your cunt‘s been 
juicing all the time. You‘re a real pisser, baby,“ he grinned.

 "Yes, baby, I guess I am,“ Dolly said, pick­ing up on the per­fect ex­plan­a­tion for 
the wet­ness in her cun­tal realm. "You got me so hot that the fe­male fuck fluid just star­ted 
gush­ing through me.“

 She was will­ing to take the pain of an­other fuck­ing as long as Don­ald didn‘t 
re­cog­nize what the lub­ric­ant really was. She figured that he wouldn‘t know. He‘d fuck her, 
he‘d shoot his own wad up her cav­ern of lust, and then he‘d as­sume that the stuff was his 
when he saw or smelled it on the end of his prong.

 He began get­ting into that juicy fuck. His dick was fuck­ing the scum of young 
Jimmy into the depths of his wife‘s deep twat. If only he knew!

 Dolly only prayed that he wouldn‘t find out.

 The boy‘s spunk was seep­ing out the cunt lips and drip­ping down Dolly‘s creamy 
thighs. Some of it even rolled out onto the kit­chen table.

 Still, Don­ald kept on fuck­ing. "Mmmmm, good fuck, honey. Good hot fuck,“ he 
grunted as he rammed his prick into Dolly‘s openly-splayed pussy.

 She was on her back on the kit­chen table, tak­ing every inch of his pum­mel­ing 
pecker.

 Don­ald‘s cock plunged deep. It was Dolly‘s un­for­tu­nate luck that Don­ald‘s deep
plunge hit a pocket of scum. The goo gushed out pro­fusely from Dolly‘s twat.

 It was a thick glob and it was un­like Dolly‘s cunt juice.

 "Hey, wait a minute,“ Don­ald grunted. "What‘s this?“ Dolly‘s heart was in her throat.
She was pet­ri­fied.

 Don­ald pulled out of her snatch in one yank of a mo­tion which made her pussy 
lips pucker, un­will­ing to let him go. But he was out with a wet pop­ping sound, and he took 
the glob of white sticky stuff in his fin­gers.

 "This isn‘t cunt cream!“ he shouted.

 "Of course it is,“ she said. "What else could it be?“

 "You tell me,“ he answered.

 "Oh, oh, that must be what the boy from the drug­store gave me,“ Dolly answered 
hon­estly, al­though she didn‘t mean to say that it was his cum. "He gave me a salve to soothe
my aching pussy. I told you that.“

 "Let me see the tube then,“ Don­ald said.

 Dolly threw her legs over the side of the table. She pulled her panties up. She 
hopped off the table and went to find the bag in which the tube was loc­ated.

 "Here it is,“ she said tri­umphantly. "You‘re a jeal­ous hus­band, that‘s all. This is the 
salve and you can read the la­bel for your­self.“

 He read the tube‘s la­bel and sure enough it said that it was va­ginal salve used, to 
ease ir­rit­a­tion of the va­ginal mem­branes. He wasn‘t con­vinced, how­ever.

 "Dolly, this con­tainer hasn‘t been opened yet,“ he said. "Look, I‘ve just opened the 
top and it‘s fresh up there. This is the first squeeze. Be­sides, this salve is like grease. The stuff 
in your cunt is like, like, hell, it‘s like cum! Dolly, you‘ve got a load of cum up your twat!“

 "It must be yours from this morn­ing,“ she cried.

 "Bull­shit, bitch! You‘ve been com­ing up with too many ex­cuses. First it was cunt 
cream, then it was salve. It‘s cum, that‘s what it is. You‘ve been cheat­ing on me.“

 "No, no, I haven‘t,“ she told him.

 "I can‘t prove it. I‘m not go­ing to take this spunk to a labor­at­ory to have it 
checked to see if it‘s real or if it‘s mine, or any­thing like that. As far as I‘m con­cerned, you‘ve 
been fucked. And that fucks me. But you‘ll pay. Go into the bed­room and get down on the 
bed with your ass up for dis­cip­line. I‘m go­ing to give you a taste of such dis­cip­line, you 
won‘t ever make the same mis­take again.“ It was fu­tile to ar­gue. He‘d made up his mind, 
and be­sides, deep down Dolly knew that it was cum. She did de­serve to be pun­ished 
ac­cord­ing to the rules which had been told to her in ad­vance by her hus­band.

 She slinked sulkily out of the kit­chen and took off all of her clothes in the 
bed­room. When she was nude like this she felt so vul­ner­able.

 She fol­lowed her hus­band‘s or­ders and placed her­self on the bed to await his 
dis­cip­line.

 Be­fore his an­ger could wear off, Don­ald stomped into the bed­room. He had the 
pun­ish­ment box in his hands.

 He wasn‘t go­ing to let Dolly de­cide which pun­ish­ment she would take this 
even­ing. He was go­ing to give her more than one type of pun­ish­ment. He might just give 
her every pun­ish­ment he could come up with.

 Dolly star­ted cry­ing into her pil­low. In the re­cent days she had been beaten and 
fucked to a pulp. She wondered if the fuck­ing of young Jimmy had been worth what she was 
now about to re­ceive.

 "Dolly, I‘m go­ing to give you what you de­serve. I‘m go­ing to start off with the 
hair­brush. Just stay down and take it un­til I de­cide to stop. Re­mem­ber, I‘m the one who‘ll 
de­term­ine when you‘ve had enough.“

 "Yes, Don­ald,“ she whimpered.

 Whack! The hair­brush came down across both ass cheeks at once. It happened 
much quicker than she‘d ima­gined it would.

 "I haven‘t even star­ted yet,“ he told her. "That was only to teach you how to 
ad­dress me. Dur­ing this spank­ing you will call me Mas­ter. Do you un­der­stand? I‘m the 
Mas­ter and you‘re the sex slave.“

 "Yes Mas­ter,“ Dolly answered.

 "Good. Now, keep your ass up. I‘ve got a heavy hair­brush. I‘m go­ing to give you 
ten with the smooth side. Then I‘ll give you the bristles. I want you to count and ask me for 
each spank. Do you un­der­stand, slave?“

 "Yes, Mas­ter,“ the naughty wife answered.

 "You‘ve com­mit­ted adul­tery, haven‘t you?“

 "Yes, Mas­ter.“

 "You need to be pun­ished for that, don‘t you, slave?“

 "Yes, Mas­ter. I need to be pun­ished.“

 "Start beg­ging!“ the wronged hus­band told her.

 "Beat me with the hair­brush, Mas­ter, Please. Hit my ass with the hair­brush and 
teach me to be good, Mas­ter. Please.“

 Whack!

 "One, Sir. Thank you Sir. May I have an­other one, Sir,“ the adul­ter­ous wife 
moaned.

 "Yes you may.“

 Whack!“

 "Thank you, Mas­ter,“ Dolly answered, though her voice cracked this time and a 
single tear rolled down her cheek. "May I have an­other one, Sir?“

 "No, not yet. You were told to count out the strokes. You didn‘t fol­low my 
in­struc­tions. I‘m go­ing to have to start over from the be­gin­ning. We‘ll see if you 
re­mem­ber to count them out. And if you don‘t count loud enough, I‘ll start over again!“

 The bare white globes of Dolly‘s ass were marked with two red prints. The places 
where the brush had landed were red hot and sting­ing. But the spank­ing had only just 
be­gun.

 In fact, as far as Don­ald was con­cerned, the spank­ing hadn‘t even star­ted yet. 
Those first two hard brush strokes stung like the devil, but they were just warm-ups to the 
rest. If she had coun­ted but the way she‘d been told, she would have been that much ahead 
of the game. But she didn‘t and there was hell to pay.

 "I‘m sorry, Mas­ter,“ the humbled wife cried. "Please give me my ten with the 
hair­brush. I‘ll sing the count out loud and clear.“

 "That‘s bet­ter,“ the harsh hus­band replied.

 He raised his arm up high. He swung the hair­brush down near her globes sev­eral 
times, but he didn‘t land the brush on her pos­terior as yet. He was just test­ing his stroke to 
make cer­tain that the brush landed ex­actly where he wanted it to land.

 Once or twice the smooth end of the heavy plastic brush touched the trem­bling ass
flesh of Dolly‘s bared buns. The flesh would re­act with a tremor, but Dolly didn‘t count. She 
knew that only the hard ones would be con­sidered count­ing strokes.

 "Al­right, Dolly,“ Don­ald said, "get your butt ready.“ Dolly star­ted out by keep­ing 
her flesh re­laxed back there. She heard the brush swish down through the air and she felt the
hard back of the brush crack down into the twin pil­lows of ass flesh. It cracked across both 
mounds at once.

 "Ow! One, Sir. Thank you, Mas­ter,“ Dolly said in a voice loud enough to sat­isfy her 
hus­band‘s de­mands. "May I have an­other one, Sir?“

 "Yes you may,“ he replied, and again the man‘s arm wiel­ded the brush as if it were a
weapon for her aching but­tocks, and it most cer­tainly was. It was a sting­ing weapon, at 
that.

 Each stroke seemed harder than the one be­fore. Per­haps it was be­cause the 
globes were already sore and burn­ing when newer strokes were laid on.

 Per­haps it was be­cause Don­ald was rais­ing his arm higher each time and 
swat­ting her na­ked buns with more and more force. He was a muscle­man, and he had 
plenty of muscle grease to put be­hind his swing.

 Whack! Whack! Whack!

 The stac­cato rhythm of the spank­ing with the hair­brush rang through the house. 
The brush left its red call­ing card with every whack.

 For the first half of the spank­ing, Don­ald smacked her all over her ass. He‘d smack 
one spot, and then the spot closest to it. The next smack would land a frac­tion of an inch 
from that spot. And so on un­til the en­tire area flamed.

 By the sev­enth stroke, the beau­ti­ful globes were crim­soned all over. Not a bit of 
white re­mained. The en­tire area of the ass, both cheeks, was red and sore.

 But he still wasn‘t fin­ished.

 By this time Dolly was hav­ing dif­fi­culty in tak­ing it. She was grit­ting her teeth, 
clench­ing her fists, and tears were rolling down her face.

 It was dif­fi­cult for her to bring her­self to ask for an­other stroke when she really 
didn‘t want any more. In fact, the beat­ing was the last thing she wanted at the mo­ment. And
yet, she had to ask for an­other, an­other, and an­other.

 There were three more strokes with the back of the brush-be­fore, she would be 
al­lowed to feel the next set of pun­ish­ment strokes. She knew that she had bet­ter ask for 
them, or else she might get a quick and power­ful vol­ley of un­res­trained strokes and that 
would really set her tail on fire.

 "Please, Sir, may, I, have, an­other, one, Sir?“ she asked slowly, stam­mer­ing.

 "Yes, you may. And it‘s go­ing to be hard. And after it‘s over, I want you to hurry up 
and re­quest the next one, and the next one after that.“ She dreaded it, but at least it would 
end that part of the pun­ish­ment.

 Crack! The brush ex­ploded across her right but­tock.

 "Thank you, Mas­ter. That was num­ber eight. May I have num­ber nine, please?“ 
Crack! The brush landed harder and in pre­cisely the same place. The im­print it cre­ated 
landed dir­ectly on top of the pre­vi­ous im­print.

 It knocked the wind out of Dolly. She was un­able to catch her breath for the 
beg­ging. That was her mis­take.

 "I don‘t hear any­thing from you,“ her hus­band said.

 "I, I, I‘m so ...“

 Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! The brush landed time and time again 
without pause. Each stroke was flailed into the already-burn­ing right but­tock. Each stroke 
landed on top of the one be­fore it. The area was wel­ted.

 "Stop! Oh, ow, stop!“ Dolly screamed.

 She was kick­ing her legs wildly and she tensed every muscle in her but­tocks to 
with­stand the pain.

 But her kick­ing was re­war­ded with more of the same from the hair­brush, and 
when the right globe was aching with a deep throb­bing, he did the same to the left but­tock. 
And then, as if that weren‘t enough, he star­ted work­ing on her up­per thighs.

 Dolly was be­side her­self with an­guish.

 Just when she thought that she would ex­plode back there, her hus­band told her 
to bite the pil­low.

 "Sink your teeth into the pil­low to hold on and take it,“ he told her. "You‘re gonna 
need some­thing to hold you down. This is gonna hurt.“

 Dolly felt like ask­ing him what he thought the rest of the spank­ing felt like. It hurt 
like hell. But he was telling her that this part of pun­ish­ment would REALLY hurt!

 When she felt what he dished out, she knew what he meant. He had poun­ded the 
smooth end of the heavy brush into her rear re­peatedly and the res­ult made her en­tire 
back­side throb, and pulsate with pain.

 Now he turned the brush over and gave her a beat­ing with the bristle end. Of the 
brush.

 The bristles were also made out of plastic; hard fibers of clear plastic.

 The bristles numbered in the hun­dreds. There were per­haps 
two-hun­dred-and-fifty little points dig­ging into her ass flesh with every stroke of the brush 
on her be­hind.

 The bristles were un­yield­ing. They smacked into her soft flesh. They in­den­ted the
flesh each time they struck her. They didn‘t pierce the skin or leave blood, but they left red 
dots where they struck.

 The red dots blen­ded into the already crim­soned skin, es­pe­cially after there 
be­came so many of them. Her pun­ish­ing hus­band wasn‘t go­ing lightly on her cheat­ing 
ass. He was sweat­ing pro­fusely from the ef­fort he used to de­liver this beat­ing, and so was 
she.

 He star­ted his beat­ing on her but­tocks, again, and moved down to her up­per 
thighs. When she thought that she would die from the throb­bing pain and the sting­ing pain,
Don­ald turned her over on her back.

 He turned the hair­brush back to the smooth side and star­ted spank­ing her front 
with it. He gave each of her big breasts a crack, and then he roughly spread her legs. The 
cun­tal area was wet and the juice moistened her thighs.

 That was fine be­cause he liked to hear the wet­ness crack­ing and sput­ter­ing 
each time the back of the brush hit her moist in­ner thighs. He held her down by the stom­ach
with one strong arm, while he used the other muscled arm to beat her in­ner thighs with the 
hair­brush.

 Each time he cracked her sens­it­ive flesh, the force of the blow moved her leg 
fur­ther out from the cen­ter of her body. He worked the right in­ner thigh, first, smack­ing it 
out from her cunt, and then he went to the other side.

 He smacked her left side un­til she was spread so wide apart, she felt the strain in 
the joints of her hips. She was sure she would ache for days.

 When she was burn­ing up on her be­hind, back thighs, in­ner thighs and breasts, 
he hopped up on the bed and jammed his thick tool into her satin cunt box.

 "Now I‘ll fuck the cum out of your hole,“ he told her. "I‘ll fuck it out of you and I‘ll 
know that you won‘t try that shit again too soon. Not un­less you want an­other ses­sion like 
this.“

 "No, no, I don‘t,“ she cried, the tears stream­ing hotly down her face. "I‘ll never-do 
that again. I‘m so sorry. I only want your cock.“

 "You‘ve got it, baby,“ he told her.

 He rammed his prick into her cunt with a pas­sion that made her twat as steam­ing 
as her spanked rear end.

 Even as he fucked her, and she felt the sting­ing where she‘d been hit, she writhed 
and ro­tated her head in circles.

 She thought about the pun­ish­ments he gave her and she wondered if she really 
wanted to be beaten. She had been warned not to be­have that way. She had been told not to
cheat on her man, and she‘d agreed whole­heartedly.

 And yet she had flaunted what she was do­ing by flick­ing in a steam room, even, 
though she was well aware that her hus­band was in the very build­ing and that he could walk
in on them at any mo­ment.

 In fact, he had done, just that, and still she re­fused to re­lease the big boy cock 
which filled her. In­stead, she threatened Jimmy‘s life by be­hav­ing in such a brazen man­ner,
and she earned her­self some more harsh treat­ment by do­ing so.

 Was she really a glut­ton for pun­ish­ment?





CHAPTER FIVE


Dolly ac­ted sur­prised when Don­ald told her about the world cruise. In fact, she 
was a bit sur­prised. He didn‘t tell her that he‘d won the trip in a sweepstakes at the health 
club. In­stead, he pre­ten­ded that he‘d paid for the tick­ets.

 So, she‘d caught him in a fib, and she felt that she could give one back. (This was 
not the basis of a work­ing mar­riage re­la­tion­ship, at least not the best work­ing mar­riage 
re­la­tion­ship.)

 Dolly‘s fib was at least a bit more ra­tional. She wanted to pro­tect the life of young 
Jimmy from St. Marks Phar­macy, and so when Don­ald per­sisted in his de­mands 
re­gard­ing the cum, Dolly made up a new story.

 She didn‘t want to get Jimmy in­volved, or even men­tion the health club. So she 
told her hus­band that she‘d been raped.

 "Raped? What do you mean?“ Don­ald said with alarm.

 "I was walk­ing down Main Street after go­ing to the phar­macy,“ she lied. "There‘s 
a deser­ted street down there. You know, Wash­ing­ton Av­enue?“

 "Yeah, I know it. They‘re do­ing some con­struc­tion down there. They‘ve knocked 
out some build­ings. They were con­demned. The rats run around down there and nobody in 
his right mind walks over there. So what were you do­ing there?“

 "Oh, I was chas­ing my hat. A breeze blew it off my head and since you gave me 
that hat for my birth­day last year, I wanted to save it,“ Dolly said, think­ing fast. It had been a 
windy day. She re­membered that be­cause her skirts had blown up ex­pos­ing her panties for
all to see.

 "Yeah, so what happened?“ Don­ald asked, ob­vi­ously be­liev­ing her story about 
the hat.

 "I was run­ning along and my hat blew into the build­ing area of one of those 
build­ings when the wind changed dir­ec­tion. It was cold and dark in there. There was a lot of
wet dirt on the ground and dust, and bricks, and oh, it was ter­rible,“ she said. She had walked
by there once to watch the humpy con­struc­tion work­ers work in knock­ing the place down.
She re­called what the work site looked like and de­scribed it in de­tail. Of course, the 
con­struc­tion work­ers were no longer on the site be­cause the sched­ule for re­build­ing 
had not been worked out as yet.

 "So, tell me about the rape part,“ Don­ald said. "That‘s what I wanna hear.“ He was 
touch­ing his massive mauler. Even though he had shot a load of joy juice into her steam­ing 
twat, mix­ing his cum with the boy sperm of virile young Jimmy, he was get­ting aroused 
again. He would‘ve killed any man who raped his wife, and yet he got off on the fantasy he 
had about rape.

 He was aroused by forced sexual in­ter­course. That much was ob­vi­ous in his 
fuck-style.

 "I found my hat and I bent over to pick it up. The next thing I knew, a pair of hands 
was work­ing on my ass cheeks un­der my dress.“

 Dolly de­scribed the scene from her vivid ima­gin­a­tion. She said that the man 
slapped a piece of heavy tape over her mouth.

 "This is to keep you quiet,“ he told her.

 Then he forced her down, to the ground, ripped at her panties, and plunged his way
into her cunt, fuck­ing her madly un­til he re­leased a hot stream of li­quid fire from his big 
black fire­hose.

 "Black? You mean he was a nig­ger?“ Don­ald ex­claimed.

 "No, he wasn‘t a black man,“ Dolly said, chan­ging her story in mid-stream. 
Sud­denly she‘d had an at­tack of con­science. She felt that black people had enough 
prob­lems and she didn‘t want to lay an­other trip on them by put­ting them into her fantasy, 
even though her first fantasy con­coc­tion did in­volve the bust­ing of her white pussy by a 
big chocol­ate stick.

 "He had a dark prick, but his face and body weren‘t that dark. I don‘t know what he 
was. I know a lot of the people in this town, and I‘d never seen him be­fore. He had a sort of 
blurry face, if you know what I mean. No dis­tin­guish­ing char­ac­ter­ist­ics. I wouldn‘t be 
able to re­cog­nize him again if my life de­pended upon it.“

 "You mean to tell me that a man fucked you by force in the empty con­struc­tion 
site and you can‘t re­mem­ber what he looked like?“

 "No, I can‘t. You‘re not a wo­man, Don­ald. You wouldn‘t un­der­stand what it‘s like 
to be taken in that man­ner. After it‘s over, and even while it‘s hap­pen­ing, a girl gets so 
crazy, she doesn‘t re­mem­ber a thing.“

 "So that‘s how you came to have scum up in your cunt.“

 "That‘s right, and after he fin­ished, the man ran away. He yelled out some­thing 
about leav­ing the city. He said we‘d never find him again.“

 "I as­sume that you went to the po­lice,“ Don­ald said.

 "No, I cer­tainly did not. Do you think I want to go through the hu­mi­li­ation of 
that. I don‘t want those po­lice of­ficers and de­tect­ives ex­amin­ing my pussy. I knew that 
you wouldn‘t want a bunch of men look­ing in­side my twat. Be­sides, they‘d never catch the 
guy, any­way. He ran away, I wouldn‘t be able to re­cog­nize him even if he took me out to 
din­ner, and I just didn‘t want to‘ go through the em­bar­rass­ment. If I did that, every­body 
in town would buzz­ing about Don­ald‘s Pritchard‘s wife and how she was raped down in the 
con­struc­tion site. They‘d be say­ing things like ‚What was Dolly Pritchard do­ing down at 
that dan­ger­ous con­struc­tion site in the first place?“

 "They‘d say I was a tramp and a slut. They‘d whis­per and giggle when I‘d pass on 
the street and every time they‘d see us, they‘d be think­ing of my raped pussy.“

 "You were right not to tell the po­lice,“ Don­ald breathed, after hear­ing all the 
things that Dolly told him. He didn‘t want any of that.

 "But why didn‘t you tell me? Why‘d you try and hide it from me, Dolly?“ he asked.

 "I didn‘t want to worry you or get you up­set,“ she answered meekly.

 "Oh, Dolly, you‘re such a won­der­ful wife,“ Don­ald said. His eyes filled with tears, 
al­though he held his head back so that she wouldn‘t see his emo­tion welling up. Of course 
she saw it all, and was touched.

 He held her close and she could feel the love that he had for her. She knew that he 
was a harsh hus­band and she wasn‘t al­ways happy to re­ceive the rout­ings he laid on her. 
But deep down it was ob­vi­ous that he loved her, and he really be­lieved that he was 
train­ing her with his dis­cip­line, .and train­ing was some­thing he did to some­body he 
cared about. It was his nature and his up­bring­ing which de­term­ined that.

 He had Dolly. She was his wife and in­ten­ded to train her well be­cause he loved 
her so. She would take it, be­cause he gave her so much.

 Cer­tainly, she was flattered that he cared enough about her to beat her for 
adul­tery. Every­body knew that .adul­tery was a sin, and sins should be pun­ished. At least, 
she‘d learned that in Sunday School. It was in the Bible.

 If he didn‘t care about her, he‘d let her run off and be a slut. But he cared. He cared 
and made sure that she be­haved for him.

 From that day on their mar­riage seemed to be on more solid ground. It wasn‘t that 
any­thing really changed. She still did things like burn­ing the toast, scorch­ing his shirt with 
the iron, and leav­ing her nylons hanging in the bath­room. He still beat her for all of these 
things. The pun­ish­ment box was opened of­ten.

 But the dif­fer­ence was in their at­ti­tude to­ward each other. Love flour­ished 
between them now. Dolly took the ab­use be­cause she real­ized that her hus­band 
ad­min­istered it for many reas­ons, not the least of which was love and de­sire.

 She took it be­cause she real­ized that if she were really good, she wouldn‘t need to
be beaten. She wanted cor­rec­tion so that she could im­prove her­self.

 Also, she began to re­cog­nize that she was dir­ectly re­spons­ible for much of her 
pun­ish­ment. If she didn‘t want to be pun­ished, she wouldn‘t do all the naughty things she 
did. Get­ting fucked by young Jimmy had been the worst thing she‘d done.

 But she didn‘t re­gret it, now that it had passed. She did en­joy it at the time. She‘d 
al­lowed her­self to in­dulge in that press­ing de­sire. She was pun­ished for it by her 
hus­band (and by Jimmy, too) but that was al­right be­cause it was all for a reason.

 She got to love her hus­band in a more solid way after that in­cid­ent. They were 
hap­pier than ever. Their fuck ses­sions were longer and deeper.

 She didn‘t go back to the phar­macy after that par­tic­u­lar day. That is, she didn‘t 
go back un­til two months later when she began to suf­fer from stom­ach cramps. She 
needed some re­lief and so she re­turned to the shop.

 Of course she was think­ing about Jimmy on her way over there. She was afraid of 
what would hap­pen when she saw him again, but she was de­term­ined to face it and not let 
her emo­tion get the best of her.

 She did think of Jimmy‘s eyes, his lips, his hair, his smile, his voice, his cock and his 
balls. She did think about the things they did to­gether in the whirl­pool bath and in the 
steam room at the health club.

 But she loved her hus­band and she owed her fi­del­ity to him. Jimmy was go­ing to
have to re­main a won­der­ful one-time ex­per­i­ence. Per­haps it was bet­ter that way, all the
way around.

 Jimmy flushed when he saw the beau­ti­ful Dolly. She looked more vo­lup­tu­ous 
and ra­di­ant than ever, due to the beat­ings and sex ses­sions with her hus­band, no doubt.

 Mr. St. Marks greeted Dolly with a smile.

 "We haven‘t seen you for a while,“ he said. "My, don‘t you look won­der­ful. I 
re­cog­nize that glow!“

 "What ever do you mean, Mr. St. Marks?“ Dolly ques­tioned.

 "Oh, I don‘t want to say any­thing,“ the phar­macist replied.

 It was a quiz­zical thing for him to say, Dolly thought to her­self. She didn‘t dwell on
it, though. She was happy to see Jimmy again.

 As soon as he saw her, all of his feel­ings about her again stirred in his heart and in 
his dick. The mo­tor of his throb­ber star­ted purring.

 "Did any­thing hap­pen to you when you got home that other day after the health 
club?“ Jimmy whispered.

 "I got a good spank­ing, Jimmy. My hus­band dis­covered your boy-cum in my 
hole. He used the hair­brush on my hide. He really tanned it.“

 "Oh, Mrs. Pritchard,“ the boy sighed. "I wish I could‘ve been there.“ He reached 
down and brought up a salve. "I would‘ve rubbed this sooth­ing salve into your aching flesh. I 
would‘ve made it feel so much bet­ter.“

 "Oh, it felt good all hot and sting­ing. It hurt, don‘t get me wrong. I cried plenty and
I couldn‘t sit down for four days! But the aches only re­minded me that I‘d been a bad wife. 
I‘ve been good ever since.“

 "In that case I would‘ve taken some Ben-gay and rubbed it into the aching wounds. 
That would‘ve really set your ass on fire. Then I would‘ve used the stuff in­side your pussy hole
as a lub­ric­ant. You‘d be screamin!“

 "Jimmy!“ Dolly ex­claimed. "What‘s got­ten into you? The last time I saw you I saw a 
sweet young man. Now you‘re a wicked little stud.“

 They both laughed. Dolly wasn‘t alarmed. If any­thing, she liked that qual­ity in her 
men. Jimmy was per­fect. He was sweet, gentle and young, and yet he did have that 
dom­in­at­ing streak in him. Dolly needed that in her men.

 She needed that be­cause she was the soft, vul­ner­able, very pink type of sex­pot 
who needed the ag­gres­sion and con­trol of a mas­cu­line man.

 She needed a man like her Don­ald, who would pun­ish her for be­ing un­faith­ful.

 "Any­way, Mrs. Pritchard, I‘m sure you didn‘t come here to shoot the breeze. What 
can I do for you?“

 Young Jimmy was learn­ing fast. He left his ques­tion open-ended, so that Dolly 
could an­swer in any way she chose. Maybe she was there to buy some products. Maybe she 
was there be­cause she wanted an­other roll in the steam.

 She had come after three-thirty, just the time that Jimmy star­ted work. Yes, she 
couldn‘t deny that she‘d come to see him. But she didn‘t want to re­peat any of what had 
happened be­fore. She was there to buy a few items.

 There were those stom­ach cramps that she‘d been hav­ing. Es­pe­cially in the 
morn­ing. And she had been hav­ing dif­fi­culty in keep­ing her food down.

 She was leav­ing on the ocean voy­age in a few weeks. She didn‘t want to spend the
en­tire trip in her cabin. So she was there for some re­lief. She also needed to buy a num­ber 
of things to take with her on the cruise.

 Fi­nally the time for the ocean trip had come and she was eager to get away for a 
whole month out on the ocean. That was an­other reason that she wanted to see Jimmy 
be­cause she‘d be gone at sea, and once out on the ocean, it would be im­possible for-her to 
see him.

 Jimmy gave Dolly the vari­ous things she asked for, and when it came to the 
stom­ach cramps, he asked Mr. St. Marks to help out. The head phar­macist gave Dolly a 
strange look. He ad­vised her to see a doc­tor, al­though he did give her some pills.

 Dolly thanked Mr. St. Marks, and she said so long to Jimmy. The boy wanted to see 
Dolly a little bit more. It was time for his fif­teen minute break, and he left the store. He and 
Dolly spent the fif­teen minutes talk­ing about this and about that. It was dif­fi­cult at first to 
get into con­ver­sa­tion, and every now and again the con­ver­sa­tion lulled. There were 
those awk­ward breaks.

 But all in all it was a fif­teen minutes which they were both glad they‘d spent 
to­gether. There was a genu­ine af­fec­tion between them.

 "Well, have a good time on your trip, Mrs. Pritchard,“ the boy said. "I hope“ I‘ll see 
you when you get back.“

 "Yes, I‘m sure you will, Jimmy. Even though noth­ing can hap­pen between us, 
be­cause of my hus­band and all, I don‘t want to let go of you that eas­ily. I like you too 
much. You were the first boy I ever did it with other than Don­ald, my hus­band. It was 
beau­ti­ful, and I don‘t think I‘ll ever for­get it.“

 "I don‘t think I‘ll ever for­get it either, Mrs. Pritchard,“ the boy said.

 "Well, have a good day,“ Dolly told him.

 "You too,“ the boy said.

 "You too,“ Dolly replied, and then she real­ized that she was re­peat­ing her­self, 
she was be­hav­ing like a school­girl and here she was sev­eral years older than the boy, in 
fact, she, at twenty-eight, was ten years older than he.

 But he had an ef­fect on her, that was for sure. It was a pleas­ant ef­fect, and one 
which she was glad she had the chance to ex­per­i­ence.

 The day that the cruise began was a warm and sunny one. Dolly and Don­ald went 
down to the dock and there they found all of the fun that one sees in a movie when a ship 
sets off on a cruise.

 There were stream­ers out over the wa­ter, at­tached to the dock at one end and to 
the ship at the other. There was a party on board the ship for every­body and their guests to 
cel­eb­rate the voy­age that was about to take place.

 Some of the people at the party had just come down to the docks that Sunday 
be­cause they knew that there would be free food on board. They told the cap­tain that they 
were guests of Mr. And Mrs. Smith. They were told which cabin the in­ev­it­able Smiths were 
stay­ing in, and then they got lost in the party-go­ers.

 Every­one was hav­ing a good time, tak­ing a tour of the lux­ury liner and see­ing 
all the rooms on board.

 There was a large din­ing room with lots of tables. There was a stage in the din­ing 
room so that mu­si­cians and en­ter­tain­ers could per­form for the diners.

 Food was one of the ma­jor at­trac­tions on these voy­ages. Every­body gained at 
least five pounds, maybe more, after they got off that boat. There was break­fast, brunch, 
lunch, snack, din­ner, snack, late sup­per, and more. And all of it was so good.

 There was a swim­ming on board the ship, as well as deck chairs, shuffle­board, card
rooms, disco room, a movie theater (not play­ing ‚The Po­s­eidon Ad­ven­ture‘ or ‚The 
Ti­tanic‘) and vari­ous bars and decks for just re­lax­ing.

 "What funny win­dows,“ dumb Dolly cooed.

 "Those round win­dows are portholes,“ Don­ald told her as they went to their 
state­room.

 It was an at­tract­ive room, al­though one corner of the room was sloped. "Oh, well,
you can‘t ex­pect everything when the tick­ets are free,“ Don­ald said.

 "Free? I thought you said you bought the tick­ets es­pe­cially for me,“ Dolly said, 
know­ing that she‘d caught his slip.

 "Oh, well, I meant that you couldn‘t com­plain. You didn‘t pay for your tick­ets.“

 "Oh, Don­ald, you‘re so clever,“ Dolly replied.

 "I know that,“ he answered.

 Soon the whistle was sound­ing deeply and it was time for the ship to set sail. The 
guests scur­ried off the ship when the sig­nal blas­ted and the an­nounce­ment was made. 
"All ashore that‘s go­ing ashore.“

 Dolly and Don­ald leaned over the side of the ship even though they had nobody to
bid them farewell. People on the dock were throw­ing stream­ers and con­fetti, and wav­ing 
like mad. The stream­ers which con­nec­ted the boat to the dock ripped apart as the ship 
moved off into the wa­ter.

 Every­one on the land was cheer­ing and wav­ing. Ex­cept for one per­son and 
Dolly was pretty sure she knew who that was. She didn‘t bring her glasses with her, and so his 
face ap­peared as a blur, but some­thing about him made her think that the boy on the shore 
was none other than Jimmy from the phar­macy.

 "Good­bye, Jimmy,“ she whispered to her­self as‘ the ship pulled away.

 There was a lot of fun on board the ship. Dolly loved to have her long blonde hair 
teased ‚and bubbled up by the ship‘s hairdresser, a funny, roly-poly man named T.C He took 
Dolly‘s wigs and really went to town on them, cre­at­ing what he called ‚a mass of turd curls‘ 
for the bouncy, busty babe.

 Dolly had a small singing voice, and she looked so pretty, that one night the 
cap­tain of the ship in­vited her to sing for every­body. She asked Don­ald if she could do it, 
be­cause he had her trained to. Ask per­mis­sion re­gard­ing . such things.

 "I told him that I was a coun­try singer and he said that I could sing. What do you 
think. Do I have your per­mis­sion?“ she asked.

 "Only if they let me do a weight­lift­ing show right along with you. I wanna show 
‚em my strength,“ Don­ald told her.

 So it was ar­ranged. Don­ald and Dolly did a dance for the audi­ence who watched 
from the round tables in the din­ing room. An older mat­ron was very in­ter­ested in 
Don­ald‘s feats of strength. She watched him through a mag­ni­fy­ing glass, not that any part 
of Don­ald Pritchard re­quired en­large­ment. Everything was already blown up enough!

 The same was cer­tainly true for Dolly. In fact, her vo­lup­tu­ous curves and big 
breasts were even big­ger now than they‘d been be­fore. She was put­ting on weight, and she
at­trib­uted it to the won­der­ful food on board the ship.

 But through­out the voy­age, Dolly was sick. Her stom­ach cramps had be­come 
worse, and her head grew dizzy every so of­ten. She wasn‘t feel­ing well at all.

 She was also eat­ing like crazy, and she‘d eat the strangest things. She mixed cream 
soda in milk. She mixed cola in milk. She ate pickles and mixed them with any­thing she could 
get her hands on. And then she‘d com­plain that her stom­ach hurt.

 Fi­nally, it was too much for her to con­tinue ig­nor­ing what she should have done 
long be­fore. She went to a doc­tor. On board the ship, the doc­tor was Dr. Fish, which 
seemed quite ap­pro­pri­ate.

 The good doc­tor ex­amined Dolly with avid in­terest. He saw hun­dreds of 
pa­tients each year and he ex­amined them in the struc­ture of a pro­fes­sional ca­pa­city.

 But Dolly was much dif­fer­ent. She was mag­ni­fi­cent, es­pe­cially without her 
clothes, and Dr. Fish was only hu­man.

 He watched as she went be­hind the screen in his ship of­fice. He watched as she 
tossed her nylon stock­ings over the top of the screen. She didn‘t wear a bra, so that he didn‘t
get to see. But he saw her mag­ni­fi­cent breasts and her beau­ti­ful body when she stepped 
from be­hind the screen in all her glory.

 He had her sit on his pad­ded table and he placed an in­stru­ment up to her chest. 
He po­si­tioned his head some­where between her breasts and listened to the thump, thump, 
thump of her heart. Her breasts were so large, that he felt the soft­ness of them graz­ing the 
side of his face as he listened.

 "Breathe deeply,“ he told her, and she did, caus­ing her breasts to stick out even 
more.

 "Mmmmmm. Hmmmmm,“ he muttered to him­self as if dis­cov­er­ing some deep, 
dark secret. Dolly‘s fin­ger­nails dug into the pad­ding of his ex­amin­ing table. She wasn‘t 
too crazy about his ap­proach, even though Marie, the girl she‘d be­come friends with on 
board the ship, had told her that the doc­tor had a mar­velous bed­side man­ner. Marie had 
been on the ship once be­fore, a year earlier, and ap­par­ently she‘d had a chance to 
ex­am­ine the doc­tor‘s tools.

 Any­way, the doc­tor did all the stand­ard tests and ex­am­in­a­tions, and then he 
told Dolly that he would have to ex­am­ine her pussy.

 "But why, doc­tor? There‘s noth­ing wrong with my pussy,“ she said.

 "How can you be so sure?“ the doc­tor asked. "And more im­port­ant, why do you 
in­sist that noth­ing‘s wrong?“

 "Oh, I guess it‘s be­cause of my hus­band. I think he‘s given me some­thing of a 
com­plex,“ Dolly sighed, fi­nally get­ting all of this off her big and beau­ti­ful chest.

 "Your hus­band has given you a com­plex about your va­gina?“ the doc­tor asked.

 "Yes, well, he fucks it raw and then he blames me for not be­ing able to have a baby.
We‘ve been work­ing on it for a long time. More than a year. My mother told me that there 
are cer­tain days, just be­fore I have my period, that are best for fuck­ing, you should par­don 
the ex­pres­sion.“

 "I‘ve heard the ex­pres­sion be­fore,“ the doc­tor replied. "I‘ve even seen it writ­ten 
in the school­yard where my sons go to school. They‘ve heard it too.“

 "Well, my mother told me that there was a forty-eight hour period be­fore my pussy
period that would be the time that I‘d be most fer­tile. Now, Don­ald fucks me at least twice a 
day, every day, so we never miss fuck­ing on those days. But those days I circle on the 
cal­en­dar, and we make sure to fuck like bun­nies when they roll around. Still, noth­ing‘s 
happened. My hus­band says that I must be sterile.“

 The doc­tor could hardly con­tain his amuse­ment. How­ever, only a small smile 
came to his lips, and Dolly didn‘t no­tice it.

 Dr. Fish was pretty cer­tain that Dolly was preg­nant. Her faint­ing spells, her 
ap­pet­ite, her weight, and her morn­ing sick­ness all seemed to be signs of early preg­nancy. 
They had star­ted some months be­fore.

 How­ever, he didn‘t want to let Dolly know what he ima­gined to be true. He knew 
that she and her hus­band had been try­ing hard to have a baby, and he didn‘t want to 
dis­ap­point her if this was just a false alarm.

 He had already taken a test de­signed to de­term­ine whether or not Dolly was 
ex­pect­ing. He would know the res­ults in sev­eral days.

 "Now, Mrs. Pritchard,“ Dr. Fish said, "you seem to be in bet­ter health than you 
might ima­gine. I do see some in­jury to you in­ner va­gina, per­haps from con­stant 
in­ter­course of a vi­ol­ent and pro­longed nature.“

 Dolly gulped, know­ing how true that was.

 "I see some of the same ir­rit­a­tion down your throat.“ Dolly again gulped and 
swal­lowed, feel­ing the sore­ness down there. She knew that Don­ald‘s over­sized and 
vi­ol­ent prick had done it, but it was a pain she loved. Even as she gulped and swal­lowed 
now, she thought about the way she gulped and swal­lowed his cum, and then gulped and 
swal­lowed again and again to get it all down.

 "I also no­tice, Mrs. Pritchard, that you have some black and blue marks and some 
red welts on your legs and but­tocks.“

 "Oh, yes, I, uh, fell down in the street,“ Dolly said.

 "No, these seem to be marks re­ceived from an in­stru­ment of some kind. A belt, 
per­haps, or a whip.“

 "Oh, oh, that,“ Dolly said, again try­ing to keep her hus­band‘s tem­per to her­self. 
"Yes, well, I was raped, doc­tor. I was walk­ing down by the con­struc­tion site on Main Street 
and I was raped. That might ex­plain the dam­age in my pussy and down my throat. The man 
was very force­ful and well hung. He rammed me in both places.“

 The doc­tor was dis­turbed my such an ad­mis­sion, and yet he didn‘t be­lieve it, 
some­how. He had seen Dolly Pritchard and her hus­band on board. They were not a couple 
to be over­looked. His muscles and her bust and blonde­ness were enough to turn any eye. 
Even the eyes of the ship‘s min­is­ter had grazed Dolly‘s charms.

 Whether or not there was lust in his heart was for the min­is­ter him­self to know.

 Any­way, Dr. Fish had seen the rough way Mr. Pritchard handled his wife. He had 
seen Don­ald take Dolly roughly by the arm and pull her off the crowded dance floor when 
her big be­hind pressed into the butt of a male dan­cer on the floor.

 "I‘ll show you where to put your ass,“ the doc­tor had in­es­cap­ably heard Don­ald 
Pritchard tell his wife. "You‘ll put your ass up and take a beat­ing. I didn‘t bring that 
pun­ish­ment box along for noth­ing,“ he said.

 The doc­tor had been more than curi­ous and he‘d slinked be­hind the couple on 
the dark deck of the ship. He fol­lowed them to their state­room and then he‘d heard the cries
and the strap­ping sounds. Dolly had got­ten a razor strap across her be­hind. It landed 
re­peatedly across her bare but­tocks.

 The curi­ous and aroused young doc­tor had stood on his toes to peer through the 
porthole of the cabin. He watched as the angry hus­band spanked the abund­ant flesh of his 
wife‘s full-bod­ied buns.

 So, Dr. Fish knew that Dolly might have sus­tained her bruises in a way that she 
didn‘t care to ad­mit. The doc­tor was fa­mil­iar enough with the body to re­cog­nize that the
red­dest of her wounds had been given no more than twenty-four hours earlier. They had 
been at sea for longer than that.

 The doc­tor had stayed peep­ing at the win­dow long enough to watch the re­ward
Dolly re­ceived fol­low­ing her sub­missive tak­ing of the strap. Don­ald Pritchard un­leashed 
his mon­ster prick and fed it to his wife with aban­don.

 The doc­tor re­called think­ing that the man was built very large, and even though 
Dolly was a nat­ur­ally-pad­ded wo­man, she was not as tall as her mus­cu­lar hus­band, not 
at all. He re­membered think­ing that she must‘ve had a deep pussy to take that pum­mel­ing
pecker, es­pe­cially con­sid­er­ing the pis­ton ac­tion the man gave her.

 Now he real­ized that it was Dolly‘s will­power and her love of her hus­band (and 
his big dick) which al­lowed her to stretch her phys­ical ca­pa­city to ac­cept all of him so 
harshly and so of­ten. But it did show it­self.

 And there was noth­ing wrong with that. The doc­tor had stud­ied psy­cho­logy, 
too, and he knew that the dom­in­ant-sub­missive com­bin­a­tion had to be mu­tual to some
ex­tent. Oth­er­wise, Dolly wouldn‘t be tak­ing the ab­use so will­ingly so of­ten. She would 
have had the sense to leave Don­ald for her own pre­ser­va­tion; un­less deep down she 
wanted it too.

 The doc­tor‘s con­cern, the reason why he re­com­men­ded that Dolly cur­tail that 
type of activ­ity, was that he feared for the baby, if she were, in­deed, preg­nant.

 "I want you to take it a little bit easy,“ Dr. Fish told Dolly. "And take one of these 
each morn­ing.“ He handed Dolly a bottle of small, white pills.

 "What is it, doc­tor? What is it for?“

 "They‘re a spe­cial anxi­ety-re­du­cing pill. They can take away ten­sion and help a 
wo­man have a baby. Her men­tal state is most im­port­ant, and you‘d do well to take one 
each and every morn­ing. Your morn­ing ill­ness might con­tinue, but you‘ll feel much calmer 
when you take these.“

 "Oh, thank you, doc­tor,“ Dolly smiled. She hugged him and her na­ked boobs 
pressed into his clothed body. He could feel her in­sist­ent nipples pok­ing into the crisp 
white ma­ter­ial of his coat.

 "Also, I‘d like to have a chat with your hus­band,“ he ad­ded. "I‘ve seen him on 
board. I watched his muscle dis­play the other even­ing, and I en­joyed it nearly as much as I 
en­joyed your song. I want to give him an ex­am­in­a­tion be­cause it‘s al­ways im­port­ant 
for men who lift weights to get reg­u­lar check-ups to make sure that he hasn‘t strained 
any­thing. You know what I mean, don‘t you, Mrs. Pritchard?“

 She didn‘t but she was so happy that she might be able to have a baby if she took 
those anxi­ety-re­du­cing tab­lets. So it didn‘t mat­ter that she didn‘t un­der­stand every 
word that Dr. Fish told her be­cause she heard what she wanted to hear.

 "I‘ll have, Don­ald come see you to­mor­row. I‘m sure he‘ll be happy to have an 
ex­am­in­a­tion. He‘s very con­cerned about his body,“ she told the doc­tor, who figured as 
much of the muscle­man.

 What didn‘t real­ize was that the pills the doc­tor gave her were noth­ing but sugar 
pills. They were the candy-coated non­sense drops used by chil­dren who played doc­tor with
store-bought kits.

 Dr. Fish was pretty cer­tain that Dolly was fer­tile. He sus­pec­ted that the prob­lem 
of fer­til­ity might lie with Don­ald, and he wanted to check that pos­sib­il­ity out.

 The pills might have a psy­cho­lo­gical ef­fect on Dolly and Don­ald, and could be 
used to take credit if Dolly was really preg­nant. He would give a bottle of the pills to Don­ald 
as well, and de­term­ine whether or not Don­ald was able to sperm up a baby.

 Dolly rushed back to the cabin with the good news that she had spe­cial pills which 
might as­sist her in her struggle to have a baby. But she was to find Don­ald wait­ing with a 
strap in his hand.

 "What‘s the mat­ter?“ she asked when she saw the stern ex­pres­sion on his face 
and re­cog­nized it as the face of dis­cip­line.

 "I found the let­ter you were writ­ing.“

 Dolly knew im­me­di­ately what he was re­fer­ring to. She had star­ted this let­ter 
sev­eral times, never ex­pect­ing to ac­tu­ally mail it. She was go­ing to rip this one up and 
toss it away as she had done with the rest, but she must‘ve left it in the cabin.

 Don­ald had it in one hand, the strap in the other. The let­ter was a note she‘d 
writ­ten to Jimmy, thank­ing him again for everything, and telling him that she‘d en­joyed 
their little chat. She wrote that she hoped to see him when she re­turned from the cruise, and 
that was the end of the mat­ter.

 But Don­ald wasn‘t pleased. Again he took this as a threat.

 "Who the fuck is this punk Jimmy?“ Don­ald growled.

 "He‘s the teen­ager who works at the phar­macy,“ Dolly answered.

 "He‘s old enough to fuck, isn‘t he? And at the phar­macy he‘d have free con­doms, 
not that you‘d get knocked up any­way, but it would give him free­dom to fool around, 
wouldn‘t it.“

 "Don­ald, please let‘s not get into this now. I have some good news from the 
doc­tor and ... "

 Don­ald lunged at his wife. His tem­per was riled once again. He really didn‘t have 
any­thing solid to go on this time. There was no men­tion of love or sex in the let­ter. It could 
have been a simple friendly note to a young boy. It could have been.

 Don­ald just wanted to make sure that it was only that. He hadn‘t heard Dolly talk 
about this Jimmy, and yet they had had a chat, ac­cord­ing to the let­ter. And she was 
thank­ing him ‚for everything.‘ He didn‘t like that at all and he wanted to make sure that she 
didn‘t try any­thing and that she feel his pun­ish­ment for hav­ing writ­ten a let­ter to 
an­other male without con­sult­ing him first.

 He had been wait­ing for her out­side the cabin. He had his idea all worked out. This
was go­ing to be a real hu­mi­li­at­ing pun­ish­ment, part of Mrs. Pritchard‘s voy­age of pain.

 He lif­ted her up in his mus­cu­lar arms and hois­ted her through the open porthole
which looked into their cabin. Her head fit in eas­ily. It was a tight squeeze for her chest. Her 
waist nar­rowed down and that slipped through eas­ily enough, but her flared hips and big 
ass could not fit through. He knew that they wouldn‘t.

 Dolly was stuck!

 Her big ass was out­side the porthole, fa­cing .any­body who might pass by on the 
deck. It was the din­ner hour and it was get­ting dark. Nobody was ac­tu­ally out walk­ing the
deck at that hour. They were pre­par­ing for din­ner.

 But still Dolly was hu­mi­li­ated at the idea that any­body might pass by and give 
her what her hus­band star­ted giv­ing her. He used the belt to beat her ass six, seven, eight 
times. He smacked her good!

 "And when I‘m fin­ished strap­ping you,“ he told her, "I‘m gonna fuck you!“

 "No, no, you can‘t,“ Dolly pleaded. "The doc­tor told me that I had to be care­ful 
be­cause my throat and pussy were be­ing fucked too much and too hard.“

 "It‘s your ass that‘s stick­ing out the porthole,“ Don­ald grinned. "I‘ll fuck you up the
ass!“ After the beat­ing left her but­tocks sore (it was a quick beat­ing, though a hard one, 
and nobody caught the act) Don­ald pulled Dolly for­cibly out from the porthole. But he 
wasn‘t fin­ished, not by a long shot.

 He re­in­ser­ted her, this time with her bust and head stick­ing out the porthole 
over the deck. Her big ass was stuck again, this time in­side the cabin.

 She couldn‘t even see him, but she felt his thick-fingered hands spread her vir­gin 
as­shole. Don­ald held her reddened cheeks apart and po­si­tioned the head of his glisten­ing
fuck-stick at the puckered rose­bud of her rear hole.





CHAPTER SIX


Her mounds looked like two large peaches. The skin of the oval mounds was softer 
than peach flesh. He ran his strong very gently over the del­ic­ate sur­face of her ass cheeks. 
His fin­gers traveled down the val­ley, into the cleft, into the hole.

 He pressed the giv­ing cheeks apart just a little bit more, this time us­ing the palms 
of his hands for pres­sure, be­cause his fin­gers were busy feel­ing the softly lined skin all 
around the little hole.

 His prick was curved up to meet the pulsat­ing en­trance. This was one time he 
wished that he could see her face.

 "Aw, Dolly,“ he husked. "You really are a honey.“ And she was. Her as­shole was a 
beauty. His blood-en­gorged prick head was quiv­er­ing at open­ing. The purplish head was 
gently for­cing the walls apart.

 "Take me, take me, Dolly,“ the man groaned, as he felt his prick enter the as­shole of
his pun­ished wife.

 Dolly felt the head spread her hole apart. Thank God he was go­ing gently with her 
this time. The sight of that del­ic­ate fruit of an as­shole, that ripe double-can­ta­loupe of ass, 
had calmed him with its mag­ni­fi­cence.

 It was the kind of young, vir­gin ass that any man felt com­pelled to treat with 
tender lov­ing care. More than that, he treated the little as­shole with ad­or­a­tion, be­cause 
the lovely thing was so tender, so young and un­tried.

 He loved his wife. This was al­most a proof of it to her. He never doubted it. Even 
Dolly only doubted it from time to time, and then in pain­ful mo­ments.

 But now he was so gentle with her. He was de­flower­ing her.

 He wanted to use her lovely anal chan­nel to slide into again and again. He wasn‘t 
go­ing to be fool­ish enough to hurt her with rough­ness.

 If he did that, he might lose her for good. She might tighten up her hole for him, 
be­cause of her fear. Then he‘d have to really force her in or­der to get it in, and he didn‘t 
want to do dam­age. He was smart enough to know that dam­age could take place.

 Ass fuck­ing for the first time is some­thing that re­quires will­ing­ness on both 
parts.

 Dolly‘s most re­cent beat­ing made her very will­ing. It al­ways worked that way 
with her.

 The head was well-lub­ric­ated. By stick­ing Dolly‘s hindquar­ters in­side their room,
he was able to get some cream for his shaft. He slicked the rod up and squir­ted plenty of 
sweet cream on Dolly‘s yearn­ing as­shole, too.

 The tender little hole danced on the man‘s fin­ger. He pressed it in, and the gush 
from the thick cream could be heard. Her little as­shole closed around the prob­ing fin­ger, 
and she mas­saged his fin­ger with her tight ass walls.

 The head just slid in with some twist­ing and gentle pres­sure. Dolly groaned as it 
entered. She groaned louder and more deeply as it pressed fur­ther for­ward un­til her 
beau­ti­ful as­shole was filled with prick; her hus­band‘s prick, after he‘d pun­ished her.

 He‘d spanked her ass cherry red, and now her as­shole was tak­ing his cock.

 The sound, of Dolly‘s sex-thrilled groan caused her friend Marie to come see what 
was the mat­ter. It soun­ded as if some­body had groaned after a deep stabbing. That was 
true in a way, Dolly‘s ass had been pen­et­rated deeply.

 "Dolly, was that you?“ Marie asked, her face full of alarm.

 "No, Marie, I don‘t think so. What do you mean, any­way, honey?“ Dolly said.

 It was not too easy for Dolly to speak. Each time she star­ted to an­swer, Don­ald 
would push his hardened shaft into her with a gently twist­ing cork­screw of a mo­tion. When 
he sank all the way in to where the head of his prick hit an in­ner or­gan, Dolly moaned.

 "Dolly, are you sure you‘re al­right?“ Marie asked. Now Marie‘s face was really 
re­veal­ing just how strange this seemed to her. Here was Dolly stick­ing way out of the 
porthole. And Dolly‘s pat­tern of speak­ing was so strange. Every few minutes she‘d start 
moan­ing.

 Don­ald was go­ing very slowly now, feel­ing the in­side of Dolly‘s ass with his prick.

 He had been in­side her pussy many times. This first ex­per­i­ence in rear door 
fuck­ing was a de­light for him. A sheer de­light!

 He was sa­vor­ing every inch of her damp hole. He was in­side what seemed to be a
second as­shole. He had pressed so far for­ward into her ass, it felt as if he had entered a new 
realm of vir­gin ass. He groaned deeply.

 "What was that!“ Marie screamed when she heard the manly sound which was more 
like the groan of a male jungle beast than that of a civ­il­ized man.

 "What was what? I didn‘t hear any­thing,“ Dolly said, try­ing to smile.

 "You mean to tell me that you didn‘t hear that groan?“ Marie gasped. "It soun­ded 
as if it came from in­side your room.“

 "I‘m sorry that I can‘t in­vite you in to. See for your­self that nobody‘s in there, but 
my na­ked ass is on the other side of this porthole,“ Dolly said.

 "Na­ked?“ Marie smiled, her en­tire ex­pres­sion chan­ging.

 Sud­denly Marie was no longer wor­ried. Some­thing new had come into her head 
and body.

 Her hip arched out and she put her fin­ger in her mouth to get enough spit to curl a
spit curl in her pixie-styled brown hair.

 She was smil­ing and lick­ing her lips at the same time when she told Dolly that she 
wouldn‘t mind com­ing in for a drink. Dolly hadn‘t even asked.

 "I just told you that I‘m na­ked un­der the other side of this porthole,“ Dolly said.

 "I know, and that‘s why I‘d like to come in. I‘m a girl too. You don‘t have any­thing 
I‘ve never seen be­fore. I may not have seen yours, but I‘m sure mine isn‘t all that dif­fer­ent. 
Mine‘s pretty hot now, though. Oh, I feel it twitch­ing.“

 Dolly was shocked. She never sus­pec­ted that her girl­friend Marie, the at­tract­ive 
stew­ard­ess who was fi­nally re­lax­ing on board a ship, was that way when it came to sex.

 "Marie, you didn‘t tell me that you make it with wo­men?“ Dolly said, still 
de­term­ined that Marie not enter the room.

 "I like girls and boys. I like them both. Since I was never able to de­cide which I liked‘
bet­ter, I de­cided to stick with both. It‘s more fun that way, and I never get bored.“

 Don­ald was able to hear every word even from the other side of the porthole. 
Sound traveled eas­ily on board the ship. He was be­gin­ning just how many people had 
heard the sound of his belt crack­ing and echo­ing across the stretched ass globes of his 
naughty wife.

 He was very in­ter­ested in what this doll Marie was say­ing to his Dolly. He didn‘t 
like the idea of his wife be­ing pro­posi­tioned by a wo­man.

 If it had been a man on the other side of the portal, he would‘ve known what to do. 
He‘d have gone out there and given the guy a piece of his mind, and then a piece of his fist. 
He‘d prob­ably knock the dude out.

 But a wo­man was so dif­fer­ent. A wo­man was just like Dolly, and a wo­man would
be the kind of com­pet­i­tion that Don­ald couldn‘t com­pete with.

 So he kept his ears open to the con­ver­sa­tion. Dolly had fixed it so that Marie 
thought the room was empty. This gave Marie the con­fid­ence to just speak out as if nobody 
could hear.

 Dolly‘s po­s­i­tion in the porthole made it easy for Marie to go ahead and do more 
than talk about her de­sire. Dolly‘s pretty breasts were lodged through the porthole. The 
abund­ant breast flesh couldn‘t move away from Marie‘s les­bian love.

 Marie threw cau­tion to the wind and went with her emo­tions. As the ship swayed 
back and forth on the rock­ing wa­ters, Marie‘s hands mas­saged the breasts of Dolly 
Pritchard through the porthole.

 Dolly had been able to talk her way out of les­bian ad­vances when talk­ing was 
enough. But once Marie went all the way and began caress­ing Dolly‘s tits, it was too late for 
talk. This was ac­tion, and des­pite her ini­tial protests, Dolly fell into a state of arousal when 
she felt the gentle ma­nip­u­la­tions of her girl­friend‘s fe­male hands.

 This wo­man knew how to caress her breasts beau­ti­fully. She knew how to do the 
move­ments which felt best and which would start Dolly moan­ing softly.

 Don­ald heard only the sound of Dolly moan­ing. Since he was con­stantly for­cing 
his big bone around in­side her vir­gin as­shole, he as­sumed that she was moan­ing for him 
alone.

 He pumped her only when he wanted to get su­per-hard. Most of the time he left 
his shaft bur­ied in­side of her, just hard enough for it to feel good for both of them.

 Dolly was moan­ing be­cause of the filled feel­ing that sent new sen­sa­tions 
cours­ing through her beau­ti­ful body. She was re­spond­ing whole­heartedly to the 
fuck­ing of her vir­gin butt.

 But it was Marie‘s skilled tit mo­tions which were mak­ing Dolly‘s ass buck back on 
Don­ald‘s prong. It was Marie who was mak­ing Dolly writhe bey­ond nor­mal lim­its.

 "Mmmmm, take that rear door fuck­ing, Dolly,“ Don­ald groaned loudly.

 Marie‘s eyes opened wide. For a mo­ment she even with­drew the nipples of Dolly‘s 
tits from her fin­gers.

 But she re­placed her fin­gers around the yearn­ing tan nipples. She real­ized that 
Dolly was nude on the other side of that porthole, but that she was not alone.

 She wondered only whether it was Dolly‘s cunt or ass that was get­ting the work­ing
out, and whether it was Don­ald‘s mouth, hand, prick, or spe­cial sex toy that was mak­ing the
con­nec­tion.

 Marie‘s soft lips found Dolly‘s little ear.

 "I‘m go­ing to have to stop that sweet moan­ing of yours,“ she whispered. "Your 
hus­band might find out that I‘m here driv­ing you crazy, too. I know how jeal­ous he is. You 
showed me the bruises.“

 Dolly didn‘t wait long to find out how Marie in­ten­ded to si­lence her.

 A mo­ment later, Marie‘s lips were pressed on Dolly‘s. A moan from Dolly‘s throat 
now echoed through Marie. On both sides of the porthole, Dolly made com­mu­nic­a­tions 
with her body. She was mouth to mouth with Marie, who stroked, fondled and tweaked her 
nipples and breasts.

 Her hus­band‘s thick prong was deeply em­bed­ded up her well-pun­ished 
as­shole.

 The three-way sexual bal­let was danced as the ship rocked back and forth, and the 
salty spray came crash­ing up on Marie and on Dolly‘s lovely breasts and face.

 The fuck­ing from both sides was an ex­per­i­ence for Dolly. The prick of her 
hus­band was some­thing she would never for­get. She re­cog­nized the feel of it up her ass 
as much as she would if he‘d slipped it up her pussy.

 She loved it both in her ass and her pussy. She simply loved his cock.

 But this was doubly de­light­ful. Her girl­friend Marie, the cute stew­ard­ess with 
the dimples and the twink­ling eyes, was show­ing her pas­sion­ate side.

 Her mouth was warm and lov­ing as it sucked on the nipples of Dolly‘s breasts as if 
she were a baby an­imal suck­ing for milk.

 Dolly‘s moans were now stopped by Marie‘s fin­gers. Marie used her hands to 
wiggle her fin­gers in. She ex­plored Dolly‘s mouth with her fin­gers, run­ning the tips over 
Dolly‘s teeth, her tongue, and down her throat.

 Marie‘s tongue flicked back and forth over the erect nipples. She sucked the flesh in 
and ran her tongue in circles around the soft mound.

 The rhythms of Don­ald and Marie were var­ied. Don­ald was go­ing slower than 
Marie.

 As a res­ult, Dolly didn‘t know when she would cum. She couldn‘t con­cen­trate on 
one or the other of her sex part­ners. She had to shift her cen­ter of sen­sa­tion back and 
forth between the two people who didn‘t even to get to see one an­other.

 Don­ald had Dolly‘s ass, and Marie had her tits and mouth.

 Then Don­ald felt the hot spray of Dolly‘s cunt. She was bump­ing and al­most 
scream­ing, and it was ob­vi­ous to both Marie and to Don­ald that the one in the middle was
cum­ming.

 "Ah­hhh, oh, oh,“ Dolly cried as the fe­male co­ital juice rock­eted from her 
con­vulsing pussy hole. "Oh, here it goes, here it goes,“ she cried.

 Both part­ners stayed with her un­til her quak­ing sub­sided. Don­ald re­mained 
with his prick pressed in­side of her as she came. He felt the spas­madic clutch­ing of Dolly‘s 
ass chan­nel on his cock as her pussy came.

 Marie covered Dolly‘s mouth with kisses and re­tained her hold on those lus­cious 
breasts.

 Once Dolly‘s pas­sion fits were over, Marie moved away.

 "I‘d like to do more with you, honey,“ Marie told her, "but that hus­band of yours 
scares me. I‘m glad I‘m a single girl. No men, no prob­lems.“

 Dolly had time to ask Marie an im­port­ant ques­tion. "I thought you said you liked 
men and wo­men. You told me you did it with both sexes.“

 She wanted to make sure that Marie was a swinger, and not just a les­bian.

 "I do, I do,“ Marie answered with a smile. "It‘s just that I haven‘t been with a man in 
years. I haven‘t found one to dom­in­ate me the way I need to be dom­in­ated,“ Marie 
whispered. "When I do, spread. Till then, let me eat pussy!“

 She wrinkled her nose up. She was really cute.

 She was cute enough for any man, and yet she was stick­ing with chicks for the time
be­ing. A girl like Dolly wasn‘t about to make Marie think of go­ing back with men, either.

 Dolly watched as Marie zig­zagged down the deck sash­ay­ing her be­hind. Two 
gen­tle­men ap­peared on the deck, the first to walk the deck since the buxom wench was 
placed through the porthole.

 They saw Marie walk­ing by and they were aroused im­me­di­ately. They looked at 
her, they looked back at each other, and then their eyes fol­lowed Marie‘s beauty once again.

 Marie knew that she had them in­ter­ested in her. She could just feel their gazes on 
her body. She al­ways knew when men were trail­ing her with their eyes. It happened of­ten 
and she was, aware of it every time. It was sort of preen­ing for her to be in the spot­light of 
their at­ten­tion. It was glory for her.

 But she didn‘t en­cour­age them at all. She merely turned her head around and 
looked back at Dolly. She found that Dolly, lean­ing out the porthole, was star­ing at her. 
Their eyes met again, and they both smiled.

 They both had a spe­cial secret to keep from Don­ald. The secret was that they had 
made love while Don­ald fucked Dolly on the other side of the porthole.

 It was funny, when Dolly thought about it. Don­ald had al­ways told her to stay 
away from other men. He would‘ve said as much about other wo­men, but the thought had 
never oc­curred to him.

 Hav­ing just spanked her with the belt for a be­lieved flir­ta­tion, Don­ald fucked 
her up the as­shole. He didn‘t know that all the time that he fucked her, she was get­ting 
kissed and fondled by the lovely Marie.

 It happened right there un­der his nose, so to speak. It was his wife‘s full ass that 
was un­der his nose, and he was just rev­ving up to cum.

 "I‘m gonna really fuck you now,“ he told Dolly through the porthole.

 "No, Don­ald, don‘t. I vis­ited the ship‘s doc­tor today,“ she said. "He said that if I 
take these pills, I may be­come preg­nant.“

 "Preg­nant!“ Don­ald gasped. "Why didn‘t you tell me?“ He was very ex­cited, but 
he had to re­mind him­self not to get car­ried away. He was ex­cited enough to pull Dolly 
through the porthole so fast that her breasts would scrape around the circle‘s walls.

 He kept his cock in­side of her and gently squeezed her through.

 "Why-didn‘t you tell me?“ he re­peated.

 "You didn‘t give me a chance,“ she told him.

 "Oh, honey, I‘m sorry. I hope I didn‘t spank you too hard.“

 "Oh, not too hard,“ Dolly said, rub­bing her buns now that she was in­side the cabin
room. "I de­served a good spank­ing with the strap,“

 "You sure did, baby,“ Don­ald told her. "That‘s why I gave it to you.“

 "You‘re a won­der­ful hus­band,“ she sighed, hug­ging him. "I‘m so glad I mar­ried 
you. Now I know that when we have a baby, there won‘t be any prob­lem about dis­cip­line in
the fam­ily.“

 "I‘ll take care of that,“ Don­ald as­sured her. "A child has to be raised with 
dis­cip­line and so does a wife. It‘s my duty as a man.“ Dolly hugged him close. He was rough 
on her at times, x but ‚ she was a big girl and any­thing less would not have been fit­ting.

 "Do you think that you‘re really preg­nant?“ the happy Don­ald said.

 "I don‘t know, I‘m not sure. But the doc­tor gave me pills to help it along. He called 
them anxi­ety re­du­cing pills. I think he wants you to take some too. He wants you to drop 
by and see him.“

 "Aw, Dolly, I don‘t need any pills. I‘m a virile man.“

 "I know you are, Don­ald,“ the un­der­stand­ing wife replied. "But you should go in 
for a check-up. You‘re a body­builder, re­mem­ber? You‘ve got to keep your­self in shape on 
the in­side as well as on the out­side.“

 "I guess you‘re right, Dolly,“ her hus­band re­spon­ded. "Hey, you know I‘ve still got 
a hard-on that needs tak­ing care of. Are you sure you‘re too sore in the pussy and throat?“

 Dolly swal­lowed. Her throat did need a rest. Her pussy un­du­lated in­side. It was 
fuck-sore, too. And now her ass was hurt­ing, be­sides. In­side and out!

 "I‘m really pretty sore,“ Dolly answered sheep­ishly. "But I want you to cum.“

 "Lay down on the bed, baby,“ Don­ald said. "I‘ll fuck you between the tits.“ Tit 
fuck­ing was a rare treat for these two. It didn‘t hap­pen of­ten be­cause Dolly‘s holes were so
in­vit­ing. But now that her ori­fices had all been used, it was time to get all fric­tioned up by 
Dolly‘s firm tits.

 "Your nipples are nice and hard,“ Don­ald said, feel­ing each firm one with his 
fin­gers. He was breath­ing hard. There was some­thing more sexual about Dolly than there 
had ever been be­fore. That was say­ing quite a lot!

 Maybe it was the idea that she might be preg­nant. There was some­thing very 
beau­ti­ful about a wo­man at that time. She cer­tainly wasn‘t show­ing any­thing yet, and 
still there was a spe­cial glow about her that Don­ald had never seen on her be­fore.

 Her flesh was warm and rosy. Don­ald could feel the heat of her body on his 
glisten­ing fuck rod as he straddled her on the bed and worked his way up un­til his ass was 
crouched over her belly and his erect tool was po­si­tioned between her tits.

 His piss slit was pulsing. A drop of pre-cum oozed from the slit. He pressed the 
droplet out onto her soft white breast. He used the vel­veted head of his thick prong to slide 
the pearl of se­men around and around on the tit flesh.

 "Oh, Don­ald, Don­ald,“ she moaned. "It feels so good. Get my breast all sticky with 
your power­ful cum.“

 She was able to prop her head far enough so that she could ob­serve the power­ful 
stalk stick­ing out from her hus­band‘s hairy crotch. She watched as the head of the cock 
smoothed the clear li­quid into her skin.

 When he squeezed his piss gash, it be­came a hole, and the ooze con­tin­ued to 
drip. He brought the hole of his prick up to Dolly‘s firm right nipple. He was able to in­sert the
firm but­ton of breast tip into the head of his cock.

 She was ac­tu­ally fuck­ing him in the cock with the nipple of her breast! "Oh, 
Don­ald, you‘re the greatest,“ she moaned. "I can feel the heat of your prick around my nipple.
Ow, it‘s wild!“ she gasped. "It‘s wild.“ He worked his prick open­ing up and back on the stiff 
nipple which jut­ted off her globe like a rub­ber tip. He really felt the tit nipple push into him. 
He felt what it was like to be fucked, only it was her tit do­ing the fuck­ing on his piss slit.

 The sen­sa­tion lured the cum right out of his dick. Not in foun­tains. Not yet.

 It was still just the pre-cum lube which trickled out in little noisy ex­plo­sions of 
gism which made her nipple slick with man-cum.

 When he had the right nipple bright red with arousal, he moved his prick down the 
side of the globe, into her cleav­age, and up the other moun­tain.

 The ooze from his dick left a wet trail along her skin.

 Dolly took her fin­gers and tweaked the flesh of her tit to make it stand up real high.
Then she pinched at the au­re­ole to swell the whole breast up for Don­ald.

 He felt the firm nipple of Dolly‘s left breast find the deep­ness of his piss slit. He felt 
like he wanted to piss and cum at the same time.

 His dick shuddered un­con­trol­lably in tiny tremors. It al­most felt as if little sparks 
were fly­ing between his piss open­ing and her tit nipple. It was like the tiny shocks one gets 
after walk­ing on a new car­pet. They were like little light­ning bolts to his cock, and to Dolly‘s
sens­it­ive breast.

 Dolly reached her un­der hand down un­der her hus­band‘s ass. She found his big 
balls and she kept her hand around them, giv­ing them firm, lov­ing sup­port.

 "Oh, yeah, Dolly, yeah,“ he husked when he felt the warmth of her hand down there.
It was as if she warmed his en­tire crotch by put­ting her hand there. They were not 
sep­ar­ate. They were one solid unit, meshed through sex.

 "Dolly, if you keep that up, I won‘t hold out much longer,“ Don­ald said.

 "I don‘t want you to hold out,“ she replied. "I want you to shoot. I want to watch 
your mag­ni­fi­cent load. I want to see it gush like a gey­ser.“

 "That‘s gonna be the thick white goo that makes you preg­nant,“ he groaned, 
feel­ing the se­men climb­ing from his nuts, through his stiff­en­ing bone.

 "Yes, yes! Cum baby, baby cum!“ Dolly cried, feel­ing the tingling in his nuts and 
hold­ing the sac more firmly in her hands.

 "Oh, Dolly, Dolly catch it!“ he cried.

 He moved his prick down into her cleav­age and began to slide his body back and 
forth. His thick cock, slicked with her own cunt cream and ass goo, moved back and forth 
between her orbs> He held the twin beau­ties close to­gether so that they provided hot 
fric­tion on his dick.

 Sud­denly his head reared back and the foun­tain began to spray.

 The first blast flew out with one of Don­ald‘s un­in­hib­ited grunts. It flew over 
Dolly‘s head and landed on the couch. Such a waste. But Dolly was quick to catch the next 
shots as they flew from the piss slit she had tit-fucked.

 She tried to take it all in her mouth, but she was twice splattered dir­ectly on her 
face. A third gush hit her neck.

 But she was able to catch all the rest and suck it down into her mouth. She savored 
her hus­band‘s sperm, ima­gin­ing that she could get preg­nant by his manly spunk, even 
when she took it down her throat.

 Again, a spank­ing had brought them to­gether. She had already for­got­ten about 
Jimmy. She was eager to have Don­ald‘s baby.

 The fact that she might be car­ry­ing the baby of young Jimmy never oc­curred to 
her.





CHAPTER SEVEN


The next day was a clear day out at sea. The air breezed over the deck, bring­ing 
with it the salt­i­ness of the ocean.

 Don­ald walked proudly to the of­fice of Dr. Fish. He didn‘t like the idea of go­ing to
a doc­tor, but he did it be­cause he wanted to be prime shape if he was go­ing to be a father. 
He had a lot of con­fid­ence in him­self now.

 Secretly, he sus­pec­ted that per­haps he wasn‘t cap­able of giv­ing Dolly the child 
they both wanted so des­per­ately. Per­haps part of his body­build­ing and macho style came
out of his in­sec­ur­ity about his man­hood.

 He had the per­fect build and then some. The same could be said about his cock 
muscle. He flexed the cock up Dolly‘s won­der­ful pussy of­ten enough.

 And yet he felt that he had to keep blam­ing her for not be­ing able to con­ceive a 
child. He was sure that it was her fault. Or so he claimed.

 But now that seemed to be in the past, be­cause the doc­tor had sug­ges­ted that 
Dolly might be preg­nant. At least, he had said that it was pos­sible if she took the 
anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills. That told Don­ald that he‘d been cor­rect all along, that it was Dolly 
who had been hav­ing dif­fi­cult in the pro­duc­tion of a child.

 So he felt much bet­ter know­ing that and know­ing that the pills might cor­rect the
prob­lem. He did want to be a father, and he did want to raise a child with Dolly. He was sure 
that she would be a won­der­ful mother, and he also be­lieved that the baby would keep 
Dolly from roam­ing.

 Dr. Fish gave Don­ald a com­plete ex­am­in­a­tion. He was look­ing es­pe­cially for 
one thing and test after test showed the same res­ult. It seemed that Don­ald‘s sperm count 
was low. He came forth a tre­mend­ous burst of se­men each time he shot. He came forth 
with so much of the li­quid, that the im­preg­nat­ing ac­tion of the sperm it­self was 
weakened.

 It was as if the abund­ant amount of his load, which Dolly loved so much, was 
watered down. The doc­tor knew of no way to cor­rect that.

 But Dr. Fish knew bet­ter than to tell Don­ald Pritchard about the find­ing. Dr. Fish 
had eval­u­ated the tests he had given Mrs. Pritchard the day be­fore. It was of­fi­cial, Dolly 
Pritchard was ex­pect­ing a baby!

 The com­bin­a­tion of his test res­ults led to clear­cut con­clu­sions. Firstly, Dolly 
was preg­nant. Secondly, her hus­band could not have been the father.

 Every­body on board knew of Don­ald‘s jeal­ousy by this time. The spank­ings had 
cracked and echoed through the decks more than a few times. If a pas­sen­ger hadn‘t been 
treated to the sound of the smacks and the cries, then he had been told about it by one or 
more of the other pas­sen­gers.

 It was the hot­test piece of gos­sip on board the ship.

 So Dr. Fish didn‘t dare men­tion his find­ings to Don­ald Pritchard. After all, this was
a ship out on the ocean. There would be no way for Dolly to get away from her angry 
hus­band if he were to find out that she was preg­nant by an­other man.

 As it was, this had been already been a voy­age of pain for Dolly Pritchard. The 
doc­tor didn‘t want to dress the wo­man‘s aching bruises, so he told what he called a 
pro­fes­sional fib. It wasn‘t ex­actly true, but it would solve a lot of prob­lems.

 "well, doc? What‘s the ver­dict?“ the beam­ing and con­fid­ent Don­ald Pritchard 
asked.

 "Well, young man, I‘m happy to tell you that you‘re in top con­di­tion. Everything is 
fine.“ He wondered if he should tell Mr. Pritchard that Dolly was preg­nant. He de­cided ^ that
since it was Dolly who had come to him for the tests, it was Dolly who should hear the res­ults.

 "I‘d like to take an­other look at your wife,“ Dr. Fish ad­ded in­stead. "I want to see 
how she‘s do­ing. I gave her a few anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills.“

 "Yes, doc, she told me. She said that it would help her have a baby. Is that true?“

 "Do you want her to have a baby?“ the doc­tor asked.

 "Heck, yeah! I want that real bad. I‘ve been do­ing it to her real reg­u­lar now for 
over a year. Still noth­ing. I figured there was some­thing wrong with her. It was 
dis­ap­point­ing. I still loved her, of course. But I do want her to have a baby.“

 "That‘s en­tirely pos­sible now,“ the doc­tor said.

 "Oh, wow, that‘s great. Those pills are really some­thing,“ Don­ald beamed.

 The doc­tor looked at the bottle from which he had taken Dolly‘s pills. He knew that
the so-called anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills were noth­ing more than sugar.

 "Yes, they work won­ders,“ he replied.

 "Well, doc­tor, I‘ll just say that you really made my day,“ Don­ald en­thused.

 "I‘m glad of that,“ Dr. Fish replied. "Treat her gently, won‘t you?“

 "Sure thing, doc,“ Don­ald Pritchard answered. Know­ing that she might soon be 
‚with child,‘ Don­ald in­ten­ded to treat her very gently. He might even have to cur­tail his 
harsh spank­ings.

 Dolly was hav­ing her hair done by T.C., the ship‘s hairdresser when Don­ald left the 
doc­tor‘s of­fice. As Don­ald ap­proached his cabin he found Marie there. She had just 
knocked on the door, and find­ing nobody in the room, she had turned to re­turn to her 
single room aboard the liner.

 "Oh, hello, Don­ald,“ Marie smiled.

 "Hello Marie. Were you look­ing for me?“ Don­ald asked.

 "Ac­tu­ally, I was look­ing for Dolly,“ the petite beauty replied.

 "Dolly‘s hav­ing her hair done,“ her hus­band told the young stew­ard­ess. "I guess 
you won‘t get to play with her this time,“ Don­ald sneered.

 "Play with her? What are you hint­ing at?“ Marie asked.

 "You know what I mean. I heard what you said to her yes­ter­day. I know that you 
have more than friendly in­terests on your mind when it comes to my wife.“

 Marie was chal­lenged.

 "She is quite at­tract­ive,“ she replied, en­joy­ing the way she was ob­vi­ously 
pro­vok­ing his ire. He was a jeal­ous man, and there she was telling him that she was eager 
to give his wife some­thing that he could never give her. She was eager to give his wife 
an­other warm pussy.

 "I don‘t want Dolly fool­ing around with any­body but me,“ he said firmly. "She 
knows that and she‘s been beaten more than once for even so much as look­ing as an­other 
man. The same goes for .wo­men, only more so. If you don‘t want Dolly to take a whip­ping, 
you‘d bet­ter lay off.“

 Marie‘s nipples were firm and her hot little box was juicing. This was a real 
chal­lenge and she was ready for it. Marie was used to ex­cite­ment. The whirl­wind world of 
be­ing an air­line stew­ard­ess had ac­cus­tomed her to such ex­cite­ment.

 Ex­cept for the in­cid­ent through the porthole with Dolly, this ocean cruise had 
been rather dull for Marie. It was too slow for her pace, up un­til now.

 Sud­denly the pro­spects for fun were much higher.

 "I think that Dolly should be the one to de­cide who she fucks with and who she 
doesn‘t,“ Marie replied, bit­ing into the juicy chal­lenge as if it were a mango.

 "I think I should de­cide that, Marie. I‘m her hus­band!“ Don­ald flared.

 "And an old fash­ioned one at that,“ Marie told him, her dimples flash­ing.

 "Damn right I‘m old fash­ioned. Dolly gets more than a taste of good old fash­ioned
dis­cip­line every time she gets out of line. I‘m the man of our fam­ily and I make the rules. 
She car­ries them out or else she feels my strap for it.“

 "You sure wouldn‘t be able to turn me over your knee that eas­ily,“ Marie teased.

 "Oh, wouldn‘t I?“ Don­ald said.

 "No you wouldn‘t!“ Marie, snapped, and with that she turned on her heels and 
star­ted walk­ing off to­ward her cabin down the hall of that deck. She wiggled all the way, 
her ass get­ting Don­ald‘s prick hard. She slammed the door to her cabin so loudly that the 
lifesaver hanging on a hook be­side her door fell from the hinge.

 Don­ald was boil­ing. His urge to pun­ish was strong. He felt like tak­ing that firm 
butt of Marie‘s and pum­mel­ing it with his fists. He felt like giv­ing that bitch a real hard 
spank­ing, harder than what he gave Dolly.

 There weren‘t enough items in his well-stocked pun­ish­ment box to use on Marie‘s 
naughty rear.

 He felt his blood pres­sure rising and he really had a need to give a spank­ing. He 
was afraid that if he didn‘t give the spank­ing to the one who de­served it, he might take it 
out on Dolly. He‘d done that be­fore.

 But now he knew that he had to be care­ful with Dolly. He‘d go easier on her, and 
beat her only for out and out in­dis­cre­tions, if she flir­ted with an­other man he‘d have to 
pun­ish her, but he wasn‘t go­ing to spank Dolly for Marie‘s fresh mouth.

 It was Marie who needed to be spanked for that. Her cur­va­ceous, 
twenty-one-year-old but­tocks needed to feel his flat-backed, wooden hair­brush.

 He knew that if he barged into her room and used his strength on her now, he 
might find him­self faced with an as­sault and bat­tery charge. His body was a weapon.

 He de­cided to calm down first. He re­turned to the of­fice of the ship‘s doc­tor.

 "Dr. Fish, I feel really tense,“ he said. "I really want to start punch­ing.“ The doc­tor 
heard his story and real­ized that his tem­per had taken the best of him again. The doc­tor 
de­cided to give Don­ald Pritchard some of those ma­gical anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills. They 
were harm­less, and the psy­cho­lo­gical ef­fect worked won­ders.

 The doc­tor be­lieved that many ail­ments could be cured in the head of the 
per­son be­ing treated. If Don­ald be­lieved that they were anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills, his 
an­ger and tem­per would sub­side ac­cord­ing to his men­tal be­lief.

 He gave Don­ald two of the pills, and only seconds after swal­low­ing them down, 
Don­ald re­por­ted that he felt much more re­laxed, even calm.

 He walked from the doc­tor‘s of­fice with a new at­ti­tude. He was go­ing to give 
Marie what she de­served, but he was go­ing to be ra­tional about it. He was go­ing to be a 
per­fect dis­cip­lin­arian and give her just what she needed.

 He went to his cabin and left with the pun­ish­ment box un­der his arm. He walked 
to Marie‘s door and knocked firmly sev­eral times.

 Marie answered the door wear­ing a cling­ing sweater. Her ex­cited nipples pressed 
against the soft ma­ter­ial. Her well-turned legs were en­cased in a pair of dark stock­ings. At 
the door, she shif­ted her weight from side to side and looked anxiously at the men­acing 
black box be­neath Don­ald‘s strong arm.

 "You shouldn‘t go around mak­ing the play for an­other man‘s wife,“ he told her 
firmly. "Don‘t you know that you could get spanked for be­ing such a bad little les­bian and 
mak­ing a play for the wife of a real man.“

 Marie wasn‘t re­bel­li­ous this time. There was some­thing so com­mand­ing about 
Don­ald‘s man­ner. Per­haps it was that he be­lieved what he was say­ing. He was a jeal­ous 
man and the idea of Dolly writh­ing be­neath the sheets with an­other wo­man made him 
angry.

 And yet he was calm. He knew what he was go­ing to do and Marie was be­gin­ning
to sense what was com­ing.

 "You know what hap­pens to girls like you when the hus­band finds out, don‘t you?“
he asked severely.

 "They, they get spanked,“ she answered, her voice com­ing in breathy gasps. She 
could feel the strange arousal com­ing over her in hot flushes.

 Don­ald entered the room, push­ing her aside gently as he sat him­self down on the
couch in her cabin. The black pun­ish­ment box was at his side.

 Marie closed the door and locked it. She felt that she was blush­ing deeply.

 "Come over here and bend over my lap,“ Don­ald told her.

 Meekly, she walked to­ward him. She waited a mo­ment when she was close 
enough to feel his hot breath on her. She wanted to res­ist. But then she gave in. She 
po­si­tioned her­self across his lap, her head droop­ing close to the floor.

 He didn‘t hes­it­ate. He knew what he was there for. He reached un­der the 
waist­band of the body stock­ing and pulled the dark stock­ings down to her thighs. Be­neath
the sheer black body stock­ing was a brief pair of black panties cut so ab­ruptly that they were
little more than a three-inch strip con­ceal­ing the cleft of her bot­tom and her ripe pussy.

 The anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills were hav­ing their psy­cho­lo­gical ef­fect on Don­ald. 
He went through the paces in a leis­urely man­ner. He calmly pulled the panties down off her 
baby-soft mounds. The skin of her ass was like pink satin.

 He ad­mired the en­ti­cing area, and ran his hand over the cheeks. Marie clenched 
her but­tock muscles when she felt his fin­gers caress her where she knew she would be 
smacked. He could see her furry pussy peek­ing out between her ass cheeks. It was 
moisten­ing as he caressed her but­tocks.

 He slowly and meth­od­ic­ally opened his spe­cial pun­ish­ment box and found the 
oval hair­brush which had of­ten smacked his wife‘s ass to a bright cherry red. With his left 
arm he held Marie in place by her waist.

 For a breath­less mo­ment there was still­ness as Don­ald raised his right arm with 
the hair­brush in his hand. Know­ing that his arm was po­si­tioned high above her with the 
smooth end of the wooden brush fa­cing down to smack her cheeks, Marie began to wriggle 
and writhe be­neath him. She anxiously ex­pec­ted the crack of the brush on her bare 
be­hind.

 Sev­eral times he brought the smooth sur­face of the brush down to her ass globes,
just to give her feel of the soft­ness of the hair­brush as it circled her globes.

 Then he lif­ted the brush up very high and brought it down crisply.

 As soon as the first blow landed squarely across her pink­ish-white flesh, Marie 
star­ted kick­ing and try­ing to squirm away.

 "Oh, no, please stop,“ she begged, but her whim­pers went for noth­ing. He 
brought the hair­brush down in a re­lent­less shower of ex­pertly de­livered strokes.

 She star­ted sob­bing without shame, and prom­ising between each sob that she 
would be good and that she‘d stay away from Dolly from now on.

 "I‘ll see to it that you do,“ Don­ald said. "Oth­er­wise you and Dolly will have red 
asses from me.“

 He didn‘t stop spank­ing, though. He con­tin­ued to let the brush brighten her 
round ass globes. He watched as the soft flesh bounced back un­der the hail of smacks.

 Soon every inch of her pale pink be­hind had be­come red. Even then, he 
con­tin­ued to wal­lop her, tak­ing no no­tice of her plead­ings for him to stop.

 "I‘m go­ing to give you a real pair of hot crossed buns!“ he told her.

 Marie con­tin­ued to sob and writhe across his lap.

 Even after he stopped spank­ing her, Marie still wiggled. It felt as if he were still 
giv­ing it to her, her ass was so hot and hurt­ing. It was a mass on fire.

 When she fi­nally stopped writh­ing, she felt Don­ald‘s hand at her cunt. She had 
wanted to be dom­in­ated by a man, and she had fi­nally found the man to do it. It was too 
bad that he be­longed to an­other wo­man.

 But she had him for this mo­ment, and after a spank­ing like that, she de­served 
some con­sol­a­tion. Her en­tire cleft was gleam­ing with cunt juice, and Don­ald used his 
fin­ger to bring the sticky wo­man flow all over her crotch. He stroked back and forth in the 
en­ti­cing area between her heated ass and her sex-heated cunt.

 Her sobs of pain were now re­placed by girl­ish whim­pers. She felt the wet 
strok­ing of her most private area, and she felt the prick of her girl­friend‘s hus­band 
press­ing at the front of his pants.

 Over his knee as she was, she could feel the throb­bing of his stiff­en­ing penis at 
her gut. She knew that he wanted to bury that shaft in­side of her, and she wanted it in­side 
her clutch­ing cun­tal pas­sage.

 "Do you know what you can ex­pect if you fool around with my wife again?“ 
Don­ald Pritchard asked her.

 "Yes, I un­der­stand,“ she sighed. "You‘ll fan my rear un­til it feels like I‘m sit­ting on 
a lighted stove.“

 "I want you to feel that heat now as I move on in my dis­cip­line of you,“ Don­ald 
told her. "I want you to think about what you got while I fuck you.“

 It was go­ing to hap­pen! She knew that she‘d been spanked, that was for sure. And
now she was go­ing to get her re­ward.

 It would be a very spe­cial re­ward for Marie. She hadn‘t been fucked by a man in 
two years! Her pussy was so tight, it was prac­tic­ally a vir­gin hole all over again.

 They moved from the couch to the bed.

 "I won‘t fool around with Dolly any­more,“ Marie told Dolly‘s force­ful hus­band. "In 
fact, if you fuck me right, I might not fool around with wo­men ever again.“

 Don­ald grinned. This was quite a boost to his manly pride. He was de­term­ined to 
give Marie a fuck­ing that would rival the spank­ing in .in­tens­ity.

 His joy­stick was slicked with the spit from his mouth and with some of that sweet 
cunt nec­tar which had seeped out of Marie‘s nearly-vir­gin pussy hole.

 Those del­ic­ate folds of cunt were glisten­ing, and the soft pud­ding be­neath her 
young pussy mounds gave way to Don­ald‘s slicked fin­gers.

 He star­ted with one and then two. Fi­nally three fin­gers gently probed the moist 
re­gions of Marie‘s sweet snatch. He felt the soft lips and the fur around them. He felt the way 
the pussy par­ted to give him ac­cess to the damp in­terior.

 He moved in un­til three fin­gers were in­ser­ted to his knuckles. He had Marie 
moan­ing and scratch­ing the bed like a young bitch in heat.

 Her ass was still glow­ing and the heat re­minded her of the dom­in­ance of this 
man. Not that his ap­proach would lead her to think oth­er­wise, even for a mo­ment.

 He was firm with her. He didn‘t stretch or tear her del­ic­ate cun­tal mem­branes, 
but if she tried to squirm away for a bit, he pressed fur­ther into her and with a greater, more 
in­sist­ing pres­sure.

 "Open that cunt up,“ he said.

 "Oh, yes, Don­ald,“ she sighed. "It‘s open for the man who spanked me.“ The stick, 
all coated with her va­gina gravy, throbbed as it ap­proached the open­ing. He was on top of 
her. He pressed his penis into her young snatch, feel­ing the warm lips part moistly for the 
in­vad­ing mem­ber.

 His manly prong went into her inch by inch. His tongue was out to fill her mouth as 
he filled her pussy with his cock.

 If Dolly was go­ing to be tender and del­ic­ate for the months ahead, then Don­ald 
felt that it would be good to have someone like Marie around. He was get­ting his first feel of 
her poontang on board the ship after her spank­ing. He liked it.

 He wanted more and more. And he wanted to give the naughty young wo­man 
more and more of his hair­brush, his belt, his hand, and even his rid­ing crop. He wanted to 
try out all of the in­stru­ments in his pun­ish­ment on her rear end.

 "The lady likes the feel of a hard spank­ing across her ass, doesn‘t she?“ she teased.

 "Yes, yes, the lady loves it! She needs it.“

 "I know she does,“ Don­ald grunted, ac­cent­ing his re­marks with pis­ton-like 
thrusts of his rod down her wet hole.

 Her cunt was cling­ing to his shaft as he rammed the back of her twat re­peatedly 
and rubbed her clit back and forth with the base of his mighty mauler.

 "Beaten and fucked, that‘s what I need to be,“ she cried. "I‘ve al­ways wanted to get 
fucked this way. I needed to learn the les­son first. Now I‘m yours. Take me. Take me and fuck 
the hell out of me. Oh, screw it.“

 Don­ald start­ing thrust­ing his hips faster and faster. His cock was like a blur 
soar­ing in and out of the cling­ing hole of young Marie.

 He felt the ten­sion mount­ing. Her hole was just too hot. The walls were just too 
tight. The depths were just too wet. He couldn‘t hold back. He was go­ing to blast.

 "I‘m get­ting ready to shoot it. I‘m get­ting ready to fire hot sperm down your 
pussy,“ he told Marie.

 "Oh, Don­ald, don‘t,“ she cried. "I‘m not fixed.“

 "What do you mean,“ he grunted, try­ing to stop plow­ing her, but his prick kept 
quiv­er­ing, as if his fin­ger had pressed too far on the trig­ger of his gun to turn back.

 "I mean that I haven‘t been with a man like this for two years. I don‘t use any birth 
con­trol. If you cum in­side of me, I might get preg­nant.“

 Don­ald sud­denly flashed back to his wife Dolly. He in­sisted that she be faith­ful, 
and yet here he was in the cabin of her friend Marie. The spank­ing was one thing. She 
needed to be spanked to teach her a les­son and to keep her away from Dolly.

 But the sight of her lus­cious buns as they were smacked to a glow had been too 
much for Don­ald to res­ist. The quiv­er­ing of her moisten­ing pussy had been too much for 
Don­ald. He had to sink his dick into her. He hadn‘t bothered to think.

 But if he got Marie preg­nant, then he would have some trouble on his hands. It 
would be double trouble. Marie and Dolly would both be after him, and right­fully so.

 He wanted only Dolly, when he really thought about it. He felt the head of his 
pecker twitch­ing and open­ing up.

 He pulled his boner out of Marie‘s quiv­er­ing quim. The heavy thing flopped down 
on top of her cunt and sprayed hot gushes of man-jizz all over her. Most of it landed in her 
dark brown patch of pu­bic hair.

 Don­ald, still pant­ing, rubbed the thick cream into the tangled bush of fe­male 
crotch hair. The strands were soaked with his sperm, and the white globs of cream meshed her
pussy hair to­gether as he mas­saged her just-fucked cunt.

 The sen­sa­tions coursed through her, but she still couldn‘t cum.

 "Spank me,“ she whispered. "Turn me over and spank me un­til I cum,“ she begged.

 This shocked Don­ald. He knew that his ladies loved to be spanked. It pun­ished 
them for their mis­be­ha­vi­ors and it got them ready for the dick. Don­ald loved to smack 
bot­tom be­cause the asses got him hot for the cunts.

 Once he saw those full cheeks glow­ing hotly, he wanted to sink his prick into the 
juicy in­ner cunt.

 But Dolly was al­ways so grate­ful once her spank­ings were over. Now here was 
Marie ask­ing for more of a beat­ing. She needed more so that she could cum.

 Don­ald shrugged his shoulders. If she needed to be spanked that badly, he was 
glad to ob­lige. He turned her over and told her to kneel on the bed with her ass up for his 
pun­ish­ment.

 She did as she was told, stick­ing her ass out and up. She was reel­ing in 
an­ti­cip­a­tion. She wanted him to beat her ass un­til it was sore enough to trig­ger her 
or­gasm.

 Again, there was that mo­ment of si­lence. Don­ald had re­turned to his 
pun­ish­ment box. Marie heard the snap lock on the box open up. She heard him fish­ing 
around in­side to loc­ate the per­fect in­stru­ment with which to give it to her.

 Her ass was still red from the pre­vi­ous beat­ing. The area between her as­shole 
and her pussy was shin­ing wetly.

 Don­ald found just what he wanted. He knew that it would sting, es­pe­cially since 
her ass had already been worked on and was red all over.

 He with­drew a long strip of raw­hide. He doubled it over and raised his hand high. 
The raw­hide whistled through the air and landed with a re­sound­ing crack across the 
roun­ded globes of Marie‘s per­fect ass.

 She jumped when she felt it. She had re­ceived enough with the hair­brush to leave 
her but­tocks throb­bing with a dull pain. This in­stru­ment, the raw­hide, stung like hell. She 
hadn‘t ex­pec­ted any­thing quite like what she was get­ting.

 Don­ald smacked her back and forth, back and forth. When she star­ted to wriggle 
and com­plain that she couldn‘t take it, he held her in place with one hand while he 
con­tin­ued to strike her with the other.

 That‘s what she needed. She needed to feel it just up to the point that she could no 
longer stand it. He built up and up smack­ing her with greater and greater in­tens­ity, and lie 
cer­tainly hadn‘t star­ted out lightly.

 "Oh, Don­ald, I‘m go­ing to cli­max,“ Marie moaned.

 It was then that Don­ald stopped, mid-stroke.

 "Don­ald, Don­ald, don‘t stop now,“ she pleaded. "Beat me un­til I cum,“ she 
begged.

 He knew what he was do­ing. He brought her just up to the point of cli­max and 
then he stopped. He wanted to bring her there sev­eral times be­fore tak­ing her all the way 
to or­gasm. That way, when she came it would really rock the ship.

 He brought her to near cli­max no less than three times.

 By the fourth ap­proach, Marie was sweat­ing. She was in a fren­zied state. She was 
prac­tic­ally bit­ing the fuck­ing wall!

 "Open up your as­shole,“ he told her firmly.

 She didn‘t hear him at first, she was so en­grossed in her pas­sion.

 He sent the raw­hide sail­ing into her flesh. It was an ex­tra-hard stroke.

 "I said reach back and open up that as­shole,“ Don­ald re­peated.

 Marie reached back and felt the sting­ing heat rising off her ass cheeks. She 
fingered the cleft with the damp­ness of her cunt juice. The twat sub­stance was mixed with 
the heavy cream which Don­ald had smeared into her twat hair.

 She pulled the cheeks apart and ex­posed her vul­ner­able as­shole to him.

 Don­ald stepped back and warned her to keep the hole open. He changed his 
po­s­i­tion so that the thin strip of leather could hit down into the open­ing of her vir­gin 
as­shole.

 Three times he slapped her tender hole with the raw­hide strip.

 That was enough to make her en­tire body shake. She col­lapsed in spasms of 
or­gasm.

 She was still trem­bling and feel­ing the vo­lup­tu­ous agony of sexual pain when 
Don­ald closed the door to her cabin and re­turned to his wife.

 This second hon­ey­moon voy­age had been just that for Dolly and Don­ald 
Pritchard. It was a voy­age made in heaven. It brought them very close to­gether. They were in
love all over again, and the love was laced with spank­ings.

 Dolly re­turned to the ship‘s doc­tor to get the res­ults of her ex­am­in­a­tion. 
When she heard that she was preg­nant, she jumped for joy. She was told by Dr. Fish that she 
would have to take it easy for a while, but she was ad­vised to ex­er­cise.

 So Dolly and Don­ald ex­er­cised to­gether in a most de­light­ful way. They 
dis­covered that when Dolly sat her pussy down on Don­ald‘s mon­strous shaft, she could 
keep him hard by work­ing her cun­tal muscles whenever she felt his thick thing flag­ging.

 She prac­ticed that, and in this way they found that they could spend hours with 
him in­side of her. One lazy af­ter­noon on board the ship they spent six hours like that.

 The anxi­ety-re­du­cing pills really seemed to do the job for Dolly and Don­ald. 
Dolly was ex­pect­ing a baby and Don­ald felt like a prize stud.

 Dr. Fish wor­ried to him­self about girls like Dolly. He could see that they egged 
their hus­bands on for a taste of the belt. Of­ten Don­ald would have to tell Dolly that she was
just beg­ging to be beaten.

 He alone seemed to know that Dolly must have been preg­nant by an­other man. 
He wondered what had pro­voked Dolly to go that far with someone else when she knew that
her hus­band was the jeal­ous type who showed his jeal­ousy with the belt.

 Did she need to be whipped?

 The doc­tor felt sorry for Don­ald Pritchard, the great big tower of man­hood who 
wasn‘t really the father of the baby grow­ing in­side of her. How could he be? His sperm 
count was too low. But Don­ald wasn‘t count­ing.

 Don­ald was stud of the ship as far as he was con­cerned. That much be­came 
ob­vi­ous some months later when the trip was over and every­one had settled back down. 
While Don­ald cared for his ex­pect­ant Dolly, someone else was ex­per­i­en­cing the 
feel­ings of im­pend­ing moth­er­hood.

 The night that Don­ald and Dolly had Marie over for din­ner, the news came out. 
Don­ald and Dolly had ex­changed phone num­bers and ad­dresses. They had re­mained 
friends after the trip was com­pleted. The salt air had faded out, but the sen­sa­tions shared 
amongst them had not.

 Marie‘s tail still tingled when she saw Don­ald. She looked at his hand, his right 
hand, and ima­gined that his belt was wrapped around it. She could al­most see that black 
leather curl­ing wickedly around his palm, the bit­ter tail of it hanging, swinging back and 
forth.

 "Ow!“ She could vir­tu­ally feel that belt swing, down across her na­ked ass. She 
could feel the thou­sands of tiny tingles in the pat­tern cris­scrossed on her by the im­pact of 
the belt as it struck back and forth over her bare skin.

 At the same time, she could still feel the firm nipple of Dolly‘s golden tit mound as 
she sucked at it. She could still feel the flat­ness at the tip of Dolly‘s nipple. She could feel the 
bouncy qual­ity that the tit had when she gently clamped her teeth around it and flicked it 
back and forth with her tongue.

 She re­membered the wet warmth of Dolly‘s full-lipped mouth. She re­called what it
was like to mas­sage Dolly‘s breasts and make love in •her mouth while her hus­band 
butt-fucked her at the same time. To top it off, Don­ald never even knew that while he worked
her over through one side of the porthole, on the other, some­thing just as juicy was tak­ing 
place.

 It was drip­ping from the corners of Marie‘s mouth.

 "So what‘s this big an­nounce­ment you have for us?“ Don­ald asked his din­ner 
guest. "Dolly‘s been telling me that you wanted us to be the first to know.“

 "Let‘s all lift our glasses,“ Marie sug­ges­ted. "Let‘s lift our glasses and toast the 
good news.“

 Dolly and Don­ald raised their glasses high and the three gob­lets of crys­tal, 
spark­ling with scar­let li­quid, met in the middle of the table. They were about to chime in 
three-part har­mony.

 "The good news,“ Marie star­ted, "is for me as well as for Dolly. Dolly is ready to 
have her baby next month, and now, I dis­cover that I‘m ex­pect­ing, too!“

 "Oh, how won­der­ful!“ Dolly ex­claimed. "Con­grat­u­la­tions!“ Don­ald just 
gulped. "Yes, that‘s fine,“ he fi­nally said. "Who‘s the lucky guy?“ They sipped their cock­tails. "I
know who he is,“ Marie answered, "but I‘m not telling.“

 "Not telling? Whatever for?“ Dolly asked, her eyes wide as blue sau­cers.

 "He‘s mar­ried; to some­body else. Mar­ried to a friend of mine, as a mat­ter of fact.
I don‘t want to hurt their mar­riage by com­ing out with it. They love each other too much. I 
was just a one-time thing with him. It was great, and I al­ways wanted a baby. I‘ll raise the 
child by my­self.“

 "Oh, Marie, I think that‘s won­der­ful. You‘re really ter­rific,“ she en­thused with 
genu­ine joy for her friend. "Oh, I could just hug you. But not too tight, be­cause of our 
ba­bies.“

 The girls giggled and Marie went to Dolly and they hugged each other.

 Don­ald watched. He didn‘t get jeal­ous over their bear-hugs. It was ob­vi­ously a 
mu­tual ex­pres­sion of love and not lust.

 He was do­ing some quick men­tal arith­metic. He was count­ing the months 
between that time on the ship cruise and the present. He wanted to know when the baby was 
due.

 He waited to find out. He told Dolly that he‘d take care of the dishes. "The doc­tor 
told you to take it easy,“ he cau­tioned.

 He ex­pec­ted Marie to join him in the kit­chen, os­tens­ibly to dry the dishes, but 
ob­vi­ously to whis­per with Don­ald over the roar of the wa­ter as it flowed. "Marie, when is 
your baby due?“ he asked.

 "If you‘re won­der­ing if it‘s yours, the an­swer is yes. I was only with you, and I 
haven‘t been with any­one since. No man, any­way.“

 "Oh, Marie, what are you go­ing to do? You should‘ve told me that you weren‘t fixed
sooner. Pre-cum get out, you know. On a wild man like me, a little cum is power­ful stuff. One 
tiny drop of my po­tent sperm is enough to do it. Look at Dolly, but at least we‘re mar­ried. 
You, Marie, what are you go­ing to do?“

 "Stop run­ning off at the mouth,“ she whispered, pla­cing her little pinky fin­ger up 
to his lips. "I‘m go­ing to do ex­actly as I said. I wanted a child all my life. I want this one. I‘ll 
raise the child as my own, borne of a won­der­ful seed planted by you on a night I learned 
that I could have glor­i­ous sex with a man. I still prefer wo­men. I al­ways have. But with a 
man, I wanted to be dom­in­ated. That‘s what I think a man should nat­ur­ally do. If there 
were more men like you, I might not be a les­bian today. But I am a les­bian, and I‘m happy. 
Now I‘m go­ing to raise a child. Like many moth­ers who raise their chil­dren alone, I‘m 
go­ing to give my child enough love for two par­ents.“

 Don­ald was get­ting a hard-on just from be­ing near Marie. He was so proud to 
know that he was the father of her child. He knew that the baby would be a beau­ti­ful child, 
and he prom­ised to give Marie whatever as­sist­ance he could.

 "Don‘t worry, Don­ald,“ Marie said sooth­ingly. "Everything will work out fine.“

 "What‘s go­ing on in here?“ Dolly said as she entered the kit­chen, break­ing up the 
little get-to­gether.

 "Oh, we were just go­ing over some of the fun times we had on the ship,“ Marie 
said.

 "Yes, that was some voy­age,“ Dolly sighed.

 That night, as Don­ald slept be­side his na­ked wife, he thought about some of the 
ideas which had swept through his mind be­fore Marie brought him the news of her 
preg­nancy.

 He couldn‘t stop think­ing that he was not the real father of Dolly‘s baby. Even 
be­fore the in­fant was born, he sus­pec­ted that he might not be the one. He had felt that 
way since he dis­covered the cum of a male on his wife‘s body. She had said she‘d been raped,
but he never be­lieved it.

 Not really. He was afraid that some­body else‘s sperm had done its work in­side his 
wife. He didn‘t really care if it was the rap­ist or her lover. One would be as bad as the other. 
He wanted to be the father and some­thing kept pulling at him, telling him that he wasn‘t.

 He‘d been try­ing for a year, and though he kept put­ting the blame on Dolly, he 
feared that it might be as much his prob­lem as hers.

 Even when the doc­tor on the cruise ship had told him that everything was fine, he 
didn‘t be­lieve it. He watched the doc­tor‘s face when the doc­tor took the sperm count. He 
feared the worst. Though it never came, he didn‘t want to check the sperm count out with 
an­other doc­tor. He didn‘t want to know.

 But now Marie was telling him that he was po­tent. She hadn‘t been with any other 
man, and she was preg­nant.

 The an­swer was simple. Either the doc­tor was wrong or the doc­tor was right.

 But which?

 A baby was born and they called the girl Donna. She was a cute little thing, with a 
tuft of blonde hair in the front of her head. She was the only baby born with such long hair. 
The nurses at the hos­pital said so.

 Dolly was very happy. As far as she was con­cerned, Don­ald was the father.

 She didn‘t think about young Jimmy, the blond kid who worked after school in the 
St. Marks phar­macy. He thought of her. He thought of her of­ten, but he knew that he had‘ 
to let her go. She be­longed to an­other.

 The Fall semester found him mov­ing across the coun­try to at­tend classes at 
an­other uni­ver­sity. Dolly was a pleas­ant memory for him. She was a memory.

 When Marie had her baby, also a girl, she named her Donna. There were two baby 
Don­nas now.

 Don­ald re­mained happy with his two fam­il­ies, al­though he only 
ac­know­ledged one of the two ba­bies as his own; Dolly‘s Donna, of course.

 The three­some of adults re­mained close through the years. There was only one 
thing that Marie missed by not hav­ing Don­ald the way Dolly did. One even­ing when the 
three of them were to­gether at the Pritchards‘ place, Marie brought it up.

 "I know that you used to get beat­ings from Don­ald,“ Marie said. "Every­one on the
ship heard the spank­ings, and you even showed me some of the marks once, re­mem­ber?“

 "I still get spanked,“ Dolly told her friend. "Not as of­ten as I used to be, but then, 
I‘m a bet­ter wife now. I don‘t re­quire dis­cip­line as of­ten.“

 "How of­ten do you get it?“ Marie asked, shift­ing her weight from one side to 
other. Her ass was be­gin­ning to tingle at the very thought of pun­ish­ment. Her ass flesh 
hadn‘t for­got­ten the feel­ing of his strokes. She wanted to feel the hard opened hand of his 
spank­ing down re­lent­lessly on her bare ass. She needed it, just as Dolly did.

 "I get it about once a week, nowadays, usu­ally we wait un­til Sat­urday or Sunday, 
and that‘s when I get my hide tanned,“ Dolly answered mat­ter-of-factly.

 "The thing of it is, Dolly, without a man, I don‘t get spanked the way I should. I 
mean, I‘m naughty from time to time. I think about men, and about those dingles dangling 
down between their legs. I wish those dangling dingles were stand­ing straight up and out. I‘d
take them up my hole, I swear I would.“

 "You think you need to be pun­ished for that?“ Don­ald in­ter­jec­ted. His voice was
firm and strong. He had be­come aroused. He be­lieved that she did need dis­cip­line. He was
the father of her baby and he strangely ex­pec­ted her to loyal to him.

 "I think I do,“ she replied humbly. "I think I need my white cheeks spanked to a red 
hot sizzle.“

 "What do you think, Dolly? Do you mind if I show Marie how to get spanked?“ he 
asked.

 "If she needs it, I guess she should take it. I think it would be good of you to pun­ish
her.“

 "Good, I was hop­ing you‘d see it that way. By be­ing gen­er­ous with me, you‘ve 
es­caped pun­ish­ment with the rid­ing crop. But you haven‘t es­caped pun­ish­ment 
al­to­gether. You‘ve been pretty bad lately, Dolly,“ he told his trem­bling wife.

 It was true, she had been bad. She‘d been go­ing out dur­ing the day and look­ing 
at men when she should have been shop­ping for the baby. Don­ald, had been told by a 
buddy of his that Dolly had been seen ey­ing men‘s crotches.

 "You‘re go­ing to have to pay for that, Dolly,“ her stern hus­band told her after 
con­front­ing her with it in front of Marie. "And I‘m go­ing to give it to you right here in front 
of your friend Marie.“

 That was really hu­mi­li­at­ing for Dolly, but she knew that it had to be done. She 
obed­i­ently hiked her ruffled skirt up over her back and placed her­self over her hus­band‘s 
knees. He took care of re­mov­ing her cot­ton panties.

 He pulled the white cot­ton panties down and felt the globes of her na­ked ass. As 
Marie watched in a com­bin­a­tion of arousal and shock, Don­ald spanked some sense into 
the throb­bing ass cheeks of his wife.

 Marie‘s heart nearly stopped each time the blonde beauty got her ass reddened by 
the con­stant fall­ing of Don­ald‘s palm upon her pos­terior.

 Over and over again the man slammed his palm into Dolly‘s ass. The wo­man 
stretched across his lap cried, but he only stopped after her but­tocks and thighs were 
covered with the stings of his an­ger.

 "Now it‘s your turn,“ he told Marie. The wo­man trembled. She had asked for it, but 
now she wondered just how crazy she was to ask a man like Don­ald Pritchard for a ses­sion 
in dis­cip­line.

 A man like Don­ald Pritchard would give her what she asked for and he wouldn‘t go
lightly. She knew that.

 She placed her body across his lap. Her pussy was drip­ping cunt froth even be­fore 
he star­ted, and his pants were damp from her cunt in a second‘s time.

 She hadn‘t been spanked for a long time, and Don­ald prom­ised to give her 
enough to make up for all the time she‘d missed.

 "You get in on some of this, too,“ Don­ald told Dolly. "You could still use some more
hard and fast. Bring that stool over and get across it, ass up.“

 Dolly did as she was told. Their ba­bies were up­stairs sleep­ing. It was a good thing
that the walls and floors of this place were pretty well sound­proofed.

 Dolly brought the little stool from the kit­chen. She placed be­side her friend, and 
this made it pos­sible for Dolly‘s ass to be placed dir­ectly be­side Marie‘s. Both awaited their 
dis­cip­line.

 "I‘m go­ing to start on Marie, since she needs it the most. She‘s been without it for 
too long,“ Don­ald said.

 Dolly waited her turn, her body curved into al­most a V-shape. She was in a 
jack­ham­mer po­s­i­tion over the stool. Her ass was up high in the cen­ter.

 Don­ald star­ted smack­ing Marie with his open hand. That was just the way she 
wanted it. She wanted to feel his hand smack her flesh, leav­ing his im­print on her.

 Smack! Smack! Smack! The cracks rang out.

 "Just do the best you can to take it,“ Dolly ad­vised her friend, not real­iz­ing, of 
course, that Marie had been on the re­ceiv­ing end of Don­ald‘s spank­ing hand be­fore.

 "I‘m try­ing,“ Marie said between grit­ted teeth. She tensed her ass muscles, but that
only seemed to make the blows feel worse when they struck.

 The pun­ish­ment box was never far from Don­ald‘s grasp. He reached over and 
opened the box. He pulled out his rid­ing crop.

 He had been wait­ing for a time like this to give Dolly the crop. This would be new 
for her and cer­tainly new for Marie as well.

 It was per­fect now, since the crop was long enough and pli­able enough to crack 
over two up­turned bot­toms at once. He could use one stroke, and smack the asses of both 
of his naughty wo­men.

 They were the moth­ers of his chil­dren, and he was go­ing to teach them right.

 The crop was de­signed to hit the flanks of horses. It was not made for the tender 
flesh of young wo­men.

 But both wo­men had pos­teri­ors ex­pans­ive enough to take the full force of an 
in­stru­ment such as this one. Don­ald couldn‘t tell which ass was quiv­er­ing the most when 
he flicked the whip against his opened palm to test the weight of the stroke.

 They both heard the crack and flinched. They would know when the crop really 
landed across their asses. They‘d really, really know it.

 Don­ald raised the whip high and brought it down across both of them at once. 
Again and again he smacked them, as if they were a team of horses.

 The red welts star­ted show­ing up on their skins with the first sting­ing stroke of 
dis­cip­line. They were like a couple of rival slave girls, each want­ing to please the mas­ter. 
Noth­ing else ex­is­ted for them but him. They were there totally for his pleas­ure and for 
their cor­rec­tion at the in­struc­tion of his whip.

 The kiss of the whip left purple kiss marks across Marie‘s hip. She was get­ting the 
most sting­ing part of the crop, the coiled tip, re­peatedly on her curved rump.

 That was al­right, though. Dolly would be re­ceiv­ing sev­eral more whip­pings at 
least, in the time between this spank­ing and Marie‘s next ses­sion un­der the whip.

 Mrs. Pritchard‘s voy­age of pain had been a good one. It marked the be­gin­ning of 
her jour­ney into the slavery of love.

 After each spank­ing was over, Don­ald Pritchard re­war­ded his gor­geous slaves 
with his prong. He un­zipped and re­vealed his mag­ni­fi­cent man­hood.

 Both girls begged him to wear a rub­ber. They knew how po­tent his scum was.

 "Dolly, go get me a con­dom,“ he said. His wo­man scampered off and re­turned 
with a box of rub­bers.

 "Put it on me,“ he told her. She re­moved one from the box and un­rolled it. She 
moistened his prick with the hot saliva from her mouth. Then she slipped the con­dom up on 
his stiff­en­ing shaft.

 "I wanna feel both of you on me at once. I pun­ished you to­gether, and now I 
wanna feel both of you work­ing me over with your tongues.“

 Dolly had never thought about hav­ing sex with Marie and Don­ald since that 
strange time aboard the ship. This time every­body knew about every­body else. Don­ald 
hadn‘t even asked Dolly if she wanted to en­gage in three-way sex. He had simply as­sumed 
that she would. And she did want to. She wanted to very much.

 Both wo­men star­ted at Don­ald‘s feet. Dolly was at his right and Marie was on his 
left. Their wet tongues climbed his na­ked, hairy legs. They traced their wet paths up his body 
to his tits. Each one began to suck.

 He reached around them and went for the asses he had spanked without mercy. He 
kneaded the ab­used flesh un­til both wo­men were moan­ing so much, they could barely 
keep his tits in their mouths.

 Dolly wanted that cock in her. She told him so, and he was happy to ob­lige. He told
her to sit up on the stool, so that her pussy could be openly splayed. He fucked her us­ing 
down­ward strokes which caused his prick to make the cunt juice gush.

 He fucked her like that be­cause it en­abled him to get at her cunt, while watch­ing 
the rose-colored cheeks of her ass bounce be­low his plunging cock. He knew he‘s spanked 
her ass to that color, and he was proud of his handi­work.

 One spanked wo­man was bet­ter than none.

 But two were even bet­ter, for Donald.
