Paul’s Trophy Wife Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“Good girl,” Paul moaned, pulling her pants down around her knees and rubbing her big ass, then he reached back and spanked her, hard.

“Oh!” She bounced, and he spanked her again, this time the other cheek.

“Oh!” She whimpered again.

“What are you?” Paul asked, grabbing her ass, her wet little pussy dripping with juices.

“What?” She huffed, unable to concentrate.

“You’re a worthless, disgusting whore!” Paul told her, spanking her again, and she nodded.

“Yes! Yes sir! I’m a worthless whore!” She gasped, and he spanked her again.

“Again.” He demanded.

“I’m a worthless, disgusting whore!”

“Again.” Then he spanked her.

“I’m a worthless, disgusting whore!”

“Again!” Then he spanked her harder.

“I’m a worthless, disgusting whore!”

“Again!” He yelled, then he started spanking her again and again, so hard and fast she screamed, whimpering and squirming against his touch but he held her down.

“I’M A WORTHLESS DISGUSTING WHORE! I’M YOUR FILTHY WHORE! I BELONG TO YOU! I’M YOUR WHORE! I’LL BE A GOOD WHORE FOR YOU SIR! I PROMISE!” She shrieked as he spanked her again and again.

Finally, the spanking ceased, and Paul rubbed Valerie’s ass while she quivered, sobbing quietly.

“I told you to wear a dress for me, with no panties,” Paul began, but Valerie sat up, nodding.

“Yes sir, I’ll go put one on right now,” she jumped, standing up and rubbing her ass as she hopped off.

Paul leaned back, relaxing on the couch as he waited, and it wasn’t long before Valerie came back wearing a cute little white dress with a frilled out skirt and a bright blue bow on the back.

“Are you wearing panties?” Paul asked, looking her up and down.

“No sir,” Valerie replied, shaking her head, then she lifted the dress up, exposing her bare little pussy.

“Good girl,” Paul said, standing up and approaching her, grabbing her neck and rubbing it. She leaned into his touch, looking down, approaching him and pressing her body against his, her arms slowly wrapping around him.

“Mmm, thank you sir,” she whispered, finally resting her head against his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Paul replied, then he grabbed her hair lifted her her face, her breath becoming short and quick as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

“Now go get your purse and car keys, we’re going shopping,” he told her, pushing her away, and she squealed a little, catching herself, then nodded.

Once she’d returned, they walked through the house and into the garage, and Paul held out his hand.

“Wait, you don’t expect to drive my car, do you?” She snapped, and Paul grabbed her hair and bent her over the hood of her little red sports car, lifting her skirt and grabbing her ass, shaking it in his grip.

“How many times am I going to punish you before you learn not to talk out of turn?” He yelled at her, pulling off his belt.

“No! I’m sorry! Please!” She begged, wincing, but Paul ignored her, taking his belt in his hand and lashing her ass over and over again.

“Oh god! I’m sorry sir! I’ll be better! I’ll be better, I promise sir!” She shrieked in between lashings, her already bruised ass turning bright red before Paul stopped.

“Give me the keys,” he told her, and she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as she handed off the keys. “Good girl, now get in the passenger side.”

“Yes sir,” she whispered, following her instructions.

Paul got in and sighed. He’d always seen her driving through the neighborhood and dreamed of driving her car. It was new, fast, expensive, and she drove like a madman. How he’d longed to have a car that nice.

Paul looked over and saw Valerie wincing as she attempted to buckle her seatbelt, leaning from side to side, sore from her punishment.

“Don’t bother,” he said, grabbing her hand before she could secure the latch, then he watched her eyes widen as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

“But- but-” she began, biting her lips, but when Paul looked over, she turned away, looking down.

“But what?” Paul asked, and she shook her head.