The Choice - ©Wendi Zwaduk, 2014
He told me to pick one. I gulped. Pick one. I stared at the five cooking utensils. The plastic would snap more. The wood would leave a bruise because I bruise easily. Hmm... which to pick?
I'd taken too long because my husband strolled into the kitchen. "You haven't picked."
"No," I whispered. "I haven't." To be honest, I kind of wanted him to use all five. What can I say, I'm into pain.
"Bad girls need to pick." He palmed my bare ass.
I could almost feel each of the utensils on my butt. My skin tingled.
"Fine," he said. He picked up each of the cooking items. "In the bedroom."
A peal of excitement rang through me. We'd use them all.
I stopped at the edge of the bed and folded my hands at the small of my back. I spread my feet and awaited his decision. My husband pulled the set of nipple clips out of the drawer.
"Bad girls need punished." He twisted one of my nipples, drawing a yelp from my throat. Once he'd affixed the clip on my swollen nipple, he flicked the sensitive bead with his tongue. I moaned. He slapped my breast, then attached the other clip. I love when he gets rough with me. I swayed on my feet. Holy hell, the pain felt so good.
"Now, for some decoration." He added two hooks to the chain between my breasts. He placed each of the utensils on the hooks, adding another bit of pressure to my abused nipples. Instead of hanging the wooden spoon on the hook, he gripped that utensil tight. "Turn around and show me that sweet little ass. It's mine."
Hell yeah.
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