There was of course something incredibly rewarding in altering her behavior. When she leashed her tongue and used his formal title he was ecstatic on the inside. He could not teach her to relax when he tried out a place she'd protested at first, when they'd circled the inevitable christening of it. She'd done nothing particularly offensive, back then, and so he left it to her, even though her refusals were only heard as temporary to him. Today her lips weren't allowed to make demands. She'd spent his mercy by the dinner table. She took to it well, and he whispered 'whore-servant' under his breath to his wife, and to her eventually obedient, though torturous decimal entrance.<br/><br/>He heard her sound, and it was a confession that she was indeed what he'd just called her. Elegant Elsie, who wore the pretty things he bought her, envy of older socialites and inspiration of her gender, bent to the wooden post and spilling broken songs while she was putting her filth on her husband.s intrusion. The leather shrunk around her neck as his excitement grew. It was a grueling task to last in her clingy offering. One hand spun by the axis of the elbow and landed on the red streak already on one of her jiggling cheeks. It was more of the nature she was used to, painful but without contempt. Perhaps the sensation of pain could be elevated though, given the angry welt.<br/><br/>"Listen to yourself." he asked her, voice drowning in his breath. It was quite clear he was enjoying her body now. "You're incorrigible, aren't you?" he said as he finally pulled the belt to the side, steering her head away from the post and then showing it by press on the back into the comforter on their bed. "What kind of lady enjoys sodomy so much?" he teased. Oscar wasn't the kind of man to deny anyone their bedchamber vices, especially as they were being discovered, but he did love making her feel shame and elation at the same time.<br/><br/>He turned her, skewered still, on her back - like they were making love the conventional way - and wrapped her wrists instead, holding them up slightly as he continued the barrage on her forbidden place, his hips connecting to her wet folds sometimes, with humid claps. He laughed soon as he shook the belt to make her arms sway by their wrists, and then held his other hand to her sex, finally, thumb handling her blushing bud violently. The Mrs. Williams would be able to say she'd arrived at her peak through bullying of her behind, tomorrow, if she'd ever thing to brag about such a thing to her rebel cohorts.