Charlotte’s cake truly was a work of art: dense, spongy chocolate; generous fillings of jam and cream; lathers of dark, rich icing. Swirls and patterns of sculpted flake decorating the surface. Along with a bright ‘Welcome Home!’ message lovingly drawn in thick, red icing. The silver sprinkles were not scattered randomly. They’d been painstakingly arranged in a particular way: thin, metallic columns criss-crossing each other as they marched busily over and around the cake. It’d taken ages. She’d really outdone herself this time. Her best bake yet.
Her husband moved fast, pushing his wife’s head down whilst pulling her arms up, bending her body into a sharp right angle so her face splatted into the cake. Gasping mouth suddenly filled with chocolate. A muffle of surprise. He held firmly to squish her in, face plunging through icing and sponge, jam and cream. Squelchy, smothering softness.
‘Sweet enough?’ He twisted her head with his hand to spread the icing, rubbing her face in it. Standing directly behind and leaning over on top of her. Hard dick pushing against her puppy-tail butt-plug. ‘Eat!’
He held the scruff of her neck and ploughed her face through the thick chocolate. Swallowing sweetness clogging the throat. She tried to gulp it down, but more was piling in. Releasing her wrists, he used his other hand to shovel cake over her gaping mouth, slapping the creamy stickiness across powdered cheeks. Charlotte was choking on chocolate, but gorging it in. Forcing it down, eating it, tasting it, savouring it. Beautiful, rich, dark sweetness. She gawped her jaws to scoff, teeth grating against the ceramic. Her insides wriggled in the twist, the movements squirming her whole body.
She thrust her ass back to smear generously over his cock. Barely restrained in the loose trousers, his erection jostled and stabbed the back of her thighs, the thick shaft now bending to press horizontal against her ass cheek. She licked her tongue out lavishly, slavering and curling along with the writhe of her hips. He exchanged the grip on her neck for a looser hold around a sugar-coated pigtail, keeping a straight back as he leant forward to suppress her. Only his dick and groin touched her body as he pushed his weight on top. Pinning her solidly over the table, holding her down with his big, heavy manliness. The ass-plug tickled deeper, her inner thighs sweltering, tongue lolling in creaminess.
With a graceful shift of weight, he pulled away and stepped back. A tug reminding that his fingers still held her hair. Flakes and sprinkles and powdery snow as her face emerged from the once-beautiful cake. Blinkering eyelids heavy with chocolate. Body peeling away from the table, turning to follow his pull. Stumbling heels as she twirled around to confront. Feeling her moistness as the top of her thighs slid against one another. She scraped the gooey icing from around her eyes. The rest of her face was caked in sticky chocolate. He was still, except for the straining point in his tented trousers, intense look daring.
‘Is that what you want… sweetness?’ His whisper was a rusty graze.
Charlotte paused as if thinking. Head cocked, tongue poking teasingly from the side of her mouth, before slowly licking out… and around the top of her lips. Proceeding full-circle, waggling like a burlesque dancer on parade. Eyes melting in syrupy glaze. ‘Yes, it’s deliciously sweet.’ She leant forward to pucker her pout. ‘Welcome home. I love you.’
His reaction chinked open, a scoff of breath dropping from his nostrils. Snarl sinking in, eyes gleaming, evil expression now wearing the skin of a smile. ‘Always so sweet.’ He said with sincere bitterness. ‘Always! No matter what.’ His strong fingers flexed in frustration: they wanted to crush something cutesy cute… had wanted to crush it for a long time now. Couldn’t resist anymore.
He used his pinch on her pigtail to draw her head down and towards him at an angle. She looked up serenely as her body bowed, face full of beaming cheek. The tempo quickened as he released the hair and advanced to draw along her flank. His left arm coming down over her back, looping around the waist to shelve her stomach. His other hand hooking under the fist and lifting sharply, flicking her legs off the ground. The feeling of being plucked into the air, jolting as he launched into stride. Long, blitzing paces to propel his catch across the garden room, brandishing her underarm. Hard, lean muscles controlling pliant softness. She loved having all this strength deployed against her. And the feathery bounce of the pom-pom tail tickling against her thighs. The flush of blood to her face hot enough to melt chocolate: silver sprinkles glittering the floor in their wake.
As they reached the wide, wooden chair without armrests, he stopped and turned to sit. Swinging around to thump her stomach across his thigh: enough force to knock the breath out. Seesawing over his left leg as he stamped his right down to gather in her wriggling, lower limbs: forcing heeled feet together. Palm flattening across her back to tip the upper body downward, her hands trailing the floor. She was now bent double with her chubby, bubble-butt firmly over the knee – doggie-tail fluttering proud. He paused to savour the moment. A carnivore licking his lips, whilst casually deciding what to eat first. A pointing finger tracing along her thigh, following the frilled rim of the stocking, before cornering upwards at the suspender. A teasing mini-twang to test the elastic. He fondled around, whirling her tail in lazy loop, fingers brushing over her pussy. Flipping the tail onto her lower back. Presenting now, lush like a heavy dew… the scent itching in his nostrils.
‘I love you,’ she taunted with melodious chime.
She could feel the energy drawing as his hand rose in the air behind. A bird of prey hovering – zeroing in – before swooping down with violent speed. Smack! Charlotte squealed as his open palm slapped onto the fleshy round of her buttock. Red handprint scalding onto white skin, painting primal. The claw of fingers pulling off to kite up again… soaring ominously… and streaking back down. Smack! Stinging as the palm whipped away on the glance. She stifled her sob. She wasn’t going to break easy. The mistress had taunted that Charlotte would burst into tears on the third blow, but she wouldn’t. Fuck you, Katya! This time his hand clapped across both cheeks at once, bouncing back off to rain down the fourth, fifth and sixth strikes in quick succession. The pain blazed. Wild, determined eyes as she bit into her lip.
She used his pause to rebalance and readjust the enticing presentation of her behind. Could feel his hardness against her flank. Fingers skittering over her pussy playfully, before drawing away again. Her buttocks cringing as they tried to pose. He leant back to get a better angle on her left cheek, bringing his palm down vertically to spread the red – a flurry of flicking slaps. One strike thumping square onto her tail, driving the plug deeper with bone-shivering reverberation. His thumb slipping inside her pussy as he repositioned her body at a steeper angle. Her neatly paired ankles viced between the back of his right thigh and the taut muscles of his clenched calf.
His arm swept in lashing motion, hitting hard… again and again. Slapping down on her helplessness. Buttocks wavering like the sea under a furious storm. White skin spanking pink, rosing deeper as the brutal beating battered on. Reddening under the hail of stinging strikes, cheeks burning to glow – a heating ember. A powerful blow jarring the ass-plug again, juddering through her centre. Another vicious spank onto scalding skin. The agonised whelp irrepressible this time. Her sobbing cries unleashed like a panicking fool as his strong hand clapped down without mercy. Charlotte’s ass red-raw, the pain consuming, the escalation unbearable. No, not unbearable! She would bear it. Bear it for him! She’d take it all whether she could or not. Whatever he gave, more than the others… any of them. She’d take it. All of it. She was his wife and she loved him!
His hand stopped to hover close to her blazing cheeks, as if warming around the fire. A slim pant after the exertion. Sitting back to admire his handiwork: a nicely roasted rump, succulent meat all soft and tender, juices flowing to marinade. A satisfied sigh whilst idly massaging the flesh, clutching a handful of ass in his squeeze. The suspender cords had flown loose, but the stocking-rims remained neatly circled around the top of her thighs. The pain scorched an inferno, but she wasn’t going to be beaten both ways. The hold of his leg around her calves had loosened, so she was able to set her feet on the floor along with outstretched hands. She pushed her butt up atop the arch of her body, thrusting towards him, pom-pom tail twitching enthusiastically – beat me more…
…
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