Dominated by My Husband's Rage

The rain hammered against the windows of the old farmhouse, mirroring the tempest brewing inside me. Ben’s words, sharp and demanding, still echoed in my ears – “Get on the bed and take off your clothes.” It felt like a violation, a stripping away of control I’d never willingly surrendered. Yet, as I lay there, the worn cotton of the sheets clinging to my skin, a strange, intoxicating pleasure began to bloom within me. This wasn't the fight with Ben that had driven me out earlier; this was something deeper, primal, a yielding to a desire I hadn't fully acknowledged until now.

The initial shock of his command had given way to a simmering heat that spread through my veins. My fingers, restless, traced the contours of my body, a silent acknowledgment of the power he now held over me. The scent of his aftershave, a musky blend of sandalwood and spice, filled the air, intensifying the already potent emotions swirling within me.

He’d been quiet after I’d left Alicia’s, a stark contrast to the shouting match that had preceded it. The calm in his voice, when he’d uttered those simple words, “I love you, babe,” felt like a calculated manipulation, a deliberate attempt to disarm me. It had worked. The anger had dissipated, replaced by a hesitant vulnerability that made me both wary and strangely drawn to his control.

As he approached the bed, the sight of his erect cock sent a jolt through me. It was a magnificent specimen, thick and powerful, radiating an undeniable virility. The way he held it, a possessive grip that both intimidated and aroused, confirmed my suspicions: this wasn't just about anger; this was about dominance, about asserting his will over mine.

His hands, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, moved with a practiced grace as he began to fondle his member. The slow, deliberate movements, the rhythmic thrusts, seemed designed to both tease and dominate. I found myself anticipating the touch, craving the sensation of his arousal, a perverse pleasure in surrendering to his command.

When he finally pulled himself onto the bed, the heat intensified. The contact was electric, a surge of raw desire that threatened to consume me. He shut the door behind him, sealing us in this intimate space, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Get on the bed and touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice low and husky. There was no room for argument, no space for hesitation. Instinct took over, and I obeyed. I spread my legs, the movement both awkward and exhilarating, as I began to explore my own body, seeking the release that only he could provide.

His hand wrapped around his hard cock, a silent promise of pleasure to come. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a desperate need to be dominated, to submit fully to his control. As he guided his member into my waiting flesh, a gasp escaped my lips. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of searing pain and unparalleled pleasure.

His thrusts were relentless, each one a wave of intense stimulation that sent shivers down my spine. I groaned, lost in the throes of my pleasure, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to surrender completely. The rhythmic pounding of his cock against my pussy hole was both brutal and beautiful, a testament to his dominance and my willingness to submit.

As I neared the brink of orgasm, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. The pain intensified, morphing into an exquisite agony that only heightened the pleasure. “Ohhhhh, ohhhhhh! Cumming, I’m cumminggggg!” I screamed, my voice raw with pleasure. The release was explosive, a torrent of pent-up desire that ripped through me, leaving me breathless and spent.

Ben continued pounding me relentlessly, refusing to let me find respite. The sweat streamed down my body, clinging to my skin, a testament to the intensity of our encounter. The air crackled with electricity, the scent of arousal mingling with the lingering aroma of his aftershave.

When he finally pulled out, his hard cock glistened with my juices, a vibrant reminder of our shared pleasure. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop? You didn’t cum!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

“It was too much,” I gasped, my body wracked with shivers. “I couldn’t take any more.”

He didn’t respond, simply grunted in acknowledgment and turned to leave the room. As I watched him go, a wave of regret washed over me. I had given myself over completely, abandoning all pretense of control. But as I lay there, feeling the lingering heat of his touch, I realized that this surrender had been profoundly satisfying, a release of pent-up desires that I hadn’t even known I possessed.

As Ben returned to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, I found myself unable to resist the urge to follow him. The desire to be near him, to bask in the glow of his presence, was too strong to ignore. The scent of beer mingled with the lingering fragrance of arousal, creating a heady combination that left me weak with anticipation.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I just wanted to feel your touch, to be held by you,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “It was an accident.”

He smiled, a slow, deliberate expression that sent shivers down my spine. “Good girl,” he said, then turned back to his beer. As he took a long swig, I realized that this wasn't just about physical pleasure; it was about power, about control, about the exquisite agony of being completely at his mercy.

As I approached him and took his cock into my mouth, I felt a surge of adrenaline, a primal instinct that demanded immediate gratification. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, a complete immersion in the depths of my own desire. My hand, instinctively, began to rub my clitoris, amplifying the pleasure, drawing me closer to the brink of another explosive release. The world narrowed, focusing solely on the sensation of his presence, the heat of his arousal, the intoxicating scent of his sweat.

Then, with a final, desperate thrust, he brought me to climax. The release was violent, a tsunami of pleasure that washed over me, leaving me limp and exhausted. As I collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath, I knew that this encounter had changed me, altered my perception of desire, and cemented my place as his devoted submissive.

Ben, his face flushed with arousal, moved to lap up my cum, savoring the sweet taste of our shared pleasure. He continued to caress my body, his touch both rough and tender, a constant reminder of his dominance and my willingness to submit.

He grabbed his phone, snapping a few quick pictures before returning to his beer. “Gotta get a picture of my beautiful cum-slut wife,” he muttered, a smug expression on his face.

As he left the room, I closed my eyes, savoring the lingering sensations of pleasure and submission. The rain continued to fall, but inside the farmhouse, the storm had subsided, replaced by the warm glow of intimacy and the intoxicating scent of arousal. This was my world now, a world defined by his control, and I embraced it with a desperate, ecstatic joy.

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