Paul’s Trophy Wife Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“I’m sorry, there must be some sort of misunderstanding here,” he smiled, shaking his head as he snatched his shorts from her grip and began putting them on.

“What do you mean? I sucked you off, now give me the flash drive.” She insisted, her fiery anger beginning to brim over, but Paul just smiled, kneeling down beside her, grabbing her hair and tugging her back up to her knees again.

“No, you don’t get it, slut,” he whispered, slapping her tits, and she whimpered, biting her lip as she stared at him, shocked. “I’m not ever going to give you the flash drive. You belong to me now, and as long as you’re a good little whore for me, your husband won’t ever find out about your little affair.”

She stared at him, trembling, shaking her head.

“But- but- but I-” She started, but he grabbed her throat.

“Shut up,” he told her. “Not another word of it. Now when does he get back into town?”

“Two weeks,” Valerie whispered, her face turning red.

“Perfect. I’ll be back tomorrow at three. We’re going out, so wear a dress, but no underwear, understand?”

Valerie looked away, embarrassed and afraid, and Paul slapped her again.

“Understand?” He asked loudly, raising his voice.

“Yes! Yes sir! I understand!” She whimpered, and he let go of her hair, letting her fall back to the ground.

“Good girl,” he laughed, grabbing his towel and shirt, slipping on his flip flops. “Now clean yourself up, you disgusting whore.”

She shivered at his words, groaning a little, but when she turned to him, he was already walking off, around to the side gate, and leaving her there.

***********

Valerie pulled herself up eventually, crawling into the reclined patio chair and quickly falling asleep in the shade. She dreamt of Paul, of his large cock, and when she woke up, for a moment, she thought it might have been a dream.

Then she sat up, looking down at her naked body, her tits still sticky from spit and cum, her jaw and throat sore, her pussy wet, her bikini bunched up on the ground.

No, it hadn’t been a dream.

She slowly stood up, walking inside and grabbing another glass of wine before making her way into her bedroom and drawing a warm bubble back, slipping into it and scrubbing her body clean.

*******************

Paul stood at the front door of Valerie’s house the next day, grabbing the handle and turning, but it was locked, so he knocked loudly instead.

When she opened the door, she was wearing yoga pants and an over sized hoodie, her arms crossed, barely opening at all, but Paul pushed through and walked inside.

“Hey, wait, look-” she protested, but he grabbed the door and slammed it behind him.

“I told you we were going out,” he grunted, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him inside, towards the living room.

“Yeah, I know, but listen, Paul, we need to talk-” she stammered as he dragged her along, then he grabbed her and pushed her onto the couch.

“Nothing to talk about. Now I gave you directions and you didn’t follow them, so you’re going to be punished.” He sat down next to her and grabbed her hair, forcing her body over his knees, and she squirmed.

“No, listen, Paul-” she wiggled, but he was surprisingly strong, holding her face down by the back of her neck as he grabbed the rim of her yoga pants and forced them down, all the way to her knees.

“Paul! Paul! Stop!” She screamed, and he let go, allowing her to sit up.

“Look,” she said, catching her breath. “I can’t do this, I broke things off with my Jason because I just can’t. Roger is my husband-“

“And you’re his third wife, so what? I’m guessing he had you sign a pretty iron clad pre-nup?” Paul asked, leaning back, watching her face flush.

“Well, I mean, it’s not just that, I-” she sighed, looking away.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Paul asked, and she glared at him, her temper rising.

“Get what? That you’re a sick little-“

SLAP.

The slap echoed throughout her large house, and Valerie’s jaw dropped. She stared at him, huffing and puffing, whimpering a little.

“You don’t get a say in the matter, Valerie. Your body belongs to me now, and I’m going to do whatever I want to you, whenever I want, now take off that stupid fucking hoodie and bend over my knees, you need to be punished, don’t you?”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Valerie nodded, then grabbed the hoodie and lifted it over her head, her tits bouncing in her tiny white t-shirt as she tossed it aside, and then bent over Paul’s lap.