Taming My Wife, Part 4

Being pinned down, she foolishly cried out, "What are you doing?" I replied, "Don't move, baby. I'm going to break your hymen. If you don't move, it won't hurt." Then I grabbed her hands with one hand and placed them above her head. She couldn't move, but she desperately twisted her body, foolishly trying to reason with me, saying, "Why not save this first time for our wedding?" However, when I put my hand inside her pants and touched her labia, she gave up resisting, only saying, "Please don't be too rough." Then she was stripped naked. As soon as I penetrated her, she started screaming, "It hurts so much!" and kicked her legs trying to escape. How could she escape? I pushed in, and she jerked upwards. Actually, only the head of my penis was inside; she didn't know the real pain was yet to come. Because she kept jerking, I couldn't penetrate further, so I got up. She thought it was over, sat up, looked down, and muttered to herself, "Why isn't there any blood?" Before she could react, I grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the foot of the bed, trying to hold her down. I stood by the bed and thrust inside. Seeing that I was about to penetrate her again, she asked, "Are we going to do it again?" I didn't answer that silly question. I pushed her, and she fell backward onto the bed. I thrust in hard, and this time it really hurt. She cried out and sprang back like a fish, detaching from my penis. Her naked body landed in the middle of the bed. Before she could get up, I pounced on her again, held her down, and forcefully thrust in, starting to pump in and out. Even though she was held down, she was really afraid of the pain. She cried and screamed, and with each thrust, she desperately tried to scoot upward, trying to avoid the pain. She slowly scooted to the headboard, where her head was against the wooden board. There was nowhere left to hide, and I thrust into her solidly, one stroke after another. She could only cry and scream, "Ah, be gentler!" There was nothing else she could do. Her reaction aroused a passion I had never had before, and each thrust went all the way in. Shouting was useless, dodging was useless; for a full forty minutes, she was completely transformed. After I finished ejaculating, I pulled out, rolled over, and comfortably stretched out to rest beside her. Looking at her, the pain had finally subsided, but she was still sobbing. I sat up and looked at the bed—ha!—it was covered in smears of blood. I touched her, helping her sit up. She sat up, staring blankly at the sheet, then picked it up. This time, she wasn't wearing any clothes; she walked naked, legs spread, towards the bathroom. I heard her turn on the toilet, but after a while, she turned it off. Then I saw her run out with the half-wet sheet, find a plastic bag, and stuff it into the bag. I was puzzled and asked, "What are you doing?" She turned around, her big eyes wide, pouting, and said, "If you don't marry me, I'll accuse you of rape. This is the evidence." Then she started wrapping it. Watching her wrap the sheet like it was a precious treasure, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. On the way back, she didn't take anything, just clung tightly to the bedsheet and followed me, as obedient as a lamb. I've come to the conclusion that women are all different when they're deflowered, but after that, they're all the same—they're all dazed and confused for a few hours.

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Taming My Wife, Part 4

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