Johnathon Price is a bear of a man. always keeping you in check when you spoke out of turn. always there to remind you who is in charge. always there to tongue fuck you as a reward for taking your punishment so well.
CW: spanking, pussy spanking, praise, cunnilingus, mention of aftercare
how did you get here? that is the only question that runs through your mind as another particularly hard slap reigns down on your already sore ass.
‘told you to count them princess,’ his gruff voice rings in your ear after a moment, his large hand rubbing over your red tinted cheeks.
‘start over.’ he grumbles, his hands gripping at your flesh, ‘count after each slap. i stop at fifteen. understood?’
you nod your head, tears tracking your cheeks as small broken whimpers leave your parted lips. he grins at this, at your mental torture, his hand coming down again.
‘one,’ you say, your voice shaking, ‘’m hurtin’ John.’
he chuckles, he actually chuckles, his hand coming down again, ‘if you’d have counted the first time we wouldn’t have to start over.’
‘two,’ you thrash away from his hand.
‘keep goin’ baby. count ‘em for me sweetheart.’
your body shudders against his thighs, the bulge in his pants glaringly obvious against your side. you feel it twitch whenever any noise passes your flushed lips.
‘three,’ your voice is a soft whine now, your ass searing hot as he lands another blow to the slightly swollen skin, ‘four.’
‘that’s it baby, doin’ so well. keep goin’.’
‘five, six,’ you all but cry, your voice borderline gone, your mind mushy, ‘John please.’
he doesn’t answer your muffled begging, his hand delivering three swift, yet hard, slaps.
your bottom lip trembles as you try to speak, tears blurring your vision, ‘seven. eight. nine.’
your words are said through gritted teeth, a sadistic grin on his face as your voice floats to his ears, ‘drop the attitude princess or the last six will be somewhere much more unpleasant, i promise you that.’
a choked sob makes it way out of your mouth, frustrated and sore, ‘i don’t have an attitude.’
he clicks his tongue at your words, shaking his head, ‘attitude.’ his voice is firm, stern even, as he lifts you from over his knee, sitting your sore ass directly onto his rough pants.
you hiss as your raw skin comes into contact with the fabric, tears falling from your face, your eyes screwed shut.
‘what did i say would happen if you gave me attitude?’ he asks, your chin between his fingers, ‘what did i promise, hm?’
at that moment you wish that John Price was a dishonest man, one who didn’t keep promises, one who let you get away with your attitude. unfortunately your husband was not that kind of man.
‘what did i say baby?’ his fingers tighten their grip, his muscles tense.
‘no more attitude or you’ll spank me somewhere more unpleasant,’ you recite his words back, keeping your eyes on his.
‘that’s right sweetheart, now are you going to behave and lay on the bed for me, hm?’ his tone taunts you, dares you to disobey, his eyes narrowed.
you don’t say anything, getting up as soon as he releases your chin from his grip and laying on your shared bed. he follows your movements with his eyes, standing at the side of the bed as he watches you intently. his pretty little wife.
‘legs spread,’ he commands, staring as you comply with his words, no resistance, ‘that’s my good girl.’
your pussy throbs at his praise, your ass stinging as it presses against the cool cotton sheet.
he stills for a moment, taking you in, almost giving in to his leaking cock and fucking you right there. however John Price isn’t the kind of man who lets his wife get away with disrespect. he slowly lowers himself on the bed, his head almost between your legs, all he had to do was push his head forward and he would smell the arousal that flowed out of your throbbing cunt.
‘you’re wet,’ he murmurs, not a taunt, just an observation as his finger comes down to trace the wet spot over your panties, ‘think i should give her some attention,’ he speaks but nothing registers in your mind, the touch of his fingers leaving jolts of pleasure up your body.
‘please,’ is all you can muster up, pushing your hips forward, his finger against your cunt applying more pressure as you let out a whimper of need.
‘punishments not over yet sweetheart,’ he taunts, pulling your panties off in one swift movement, your glistening pussy finally out in the open, ‘she’s so pretty,’ he praises, a sadistic smile on his face.
before you can say anything his hand comes in contact with your poor pussy, the sound of the slap ringing in your ears as you let out a sharp scream.
‘count baby,’ his eyes are on your face, watching the way it contorts.
‘ten,’ you continue, your breathing heavy and laboured.
he brings his hand up again, slamming it down onto your swollen clit, ‘eleven.’
‘good girl,’ he praises, swirling his thumb over your clit before delivering two more harsh slaps.
the tears gather in your eyes once more, falling silently as you throw your head back, ‘twelve. thirteen.’ your voice is rough, soft pants huffing out between parted lips, ‘please John, no more. i’ll be good, promise.’
‘you need to learn baby,’ his voice is like a soft hum, lulling you into a false sense of security as his hand meets your wet pussy once more, ‘need to be a good girl and count, m’kay?’ his hand comes down again, the tips of his fingers catching your clit, the bundle of nerves getting confused between pain and pleasure as you let out a strangled moan.
‘i can’t do any more,’ you hiccup, tears streaming down your face.
‘count baby,’ his demand is simple, only two words, leaving no room for debate, ‘just two more.’ another harsh slap.
‘fourteen.’
‘that’s my girl,’ he blows cold air onto your clit, your muscles contracting at the searing heat being contradicted with the cold air, ‘last one now.’
you prepare yourself for a slap, one that never comes, your eyes screwed shut, muscles tensed up.
‘open your eyes,’ he demands, ‘eyes on me baby.’ you will yourself to open your eyes, your bottom lip quivering subconsciously, ‘there’s my pretty girl,’ he smiles.
‘no more John,’ you beg softly, ‘please no more.’
he ignores you, his eyes set firm on your face, wanting to watch the way you scream when he delivers the final slap, the one that makes you jolt. he does it. he does it hard. your head flies back, fingers gripping at the sheets as you scream, he doesn’t even let you recover before his head is dipping down to suck on your clit.
he pulls away just as quick as he attached himself, ‘forgetting something baby?’ he teases, his lips back around the place you needed him most.
your hand flies to his hair, ‘fifteen. fifteen. thank you John, thank you,’ he grins against your cunt as the words leave your mouth in a loud moan.
his mouth opens, tongue licking down your slit, facial hair scratching you in the best way, ‘please John,’ you beg.
with that his tongue is in you, noisily slurping at your dripping cunt, his cock practically jumping at the taste as he humps at the bed.
John was great at eating pussy. he knew it. you knew it. the way his tongue flexed and expertly flicked had you begging hundreds of times over the years, the fact he could cum from pleasing you being the icing on the cake.
his arms wrap around your thighs, dragging you closer to him, his mouth making the most embarrassingly wet sounds as he eats your cunt, his eyes closed, savouring the taste.
‘fuck John, feels good, please- fuck,’ his hips move faster at your slurred praise, his hard cock physically straining in his pants as he fucks the bed.
he can feel your impending orgasm, the slight twitch in your thighs, the tightening of your hand in his hair, the way your moans managed to go six octaves higher, ‘gonna finish baby?’ he teases between your legs, his mouth not stopping their movements.
before you can even answer your orgasm rips through your body, your hips bucking wildly onto his tongue, your hand gripping his hair so tightly he hisses and cums in his pants.
your breathing is still heavy when he lays beside you, your eyes on the ceiling, ass and pussy sore, ‘’m hurting,’ you mumble to him.
‘how about i run us a bath?’ he whispers softly, pressing a kiss you your cheek, the smell of you still thick in his facial hair.
‘please.’
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