Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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I'm a bitch. I don't know exactly when I became a bitch. I suppose it was sometime after the twins entered puberty that I decided that my life had peaked and all I had to look forward to was motherhood, obligations, and aging. I wasn't always so pessimistic but somewhere along the line I traded youthful enthusiasm for midlife fatalism. I found fault in everyone and everything around me and didn't hesitate to let them know how they had failed me.
The thing is that I have a loving husband. We have a wonderful marriage and there was a constant heat between us until the children got older. He tolerated my gradually increasing bitchiness with a stoic commitment to our marriage. In hindsight I must admit that the man was a saint. He stuck with me even though our marriage was completely one sided. He gave and I took, without thanks and usually with complaints.
I started out as a loving mother and didn't become a bitch to my children until their teenage years. My husband Bob then became the buffer between my bitchiness and our children while they gradually grew more distant from me. That in turn just made me bitchier.
The kids, Sara and Sam, are twins and are rapidly approaching their nineteenth birthday. They are attending college locally which I am sure chaps their collective asses to no end. I know that they wanted to attend an out of state college to get away from home and their bitchy mother. I, on the other hand, didn't see the sense in going in debt to finance an out of state education. Our local college offered the degrees that both were interested in, and they could live at home while attending. It was a smart move financially even though the kids were less than thrilled about it.
I was surprised even though I shouldn't have been when Bob finally got fed up and decided it was time for an attitude change on my part. We were sitting in front of the television. I had taken control of the remote as was usual. I'm not sure exactly when it happened but I was the one who controlled the remote. I think my constant bitching about channel changing and the shows that were selected eventually got the best of my family. As a result, I was the one who always had the remote. We watched what I wanted without fail. If the kids wanted to watch something else, they were welcome to go to a friend's house. Bob just quietly watched whatever I selected.
I had sat down in my recliner when my husband turned to me, "I want to watch a documentary tonight. It's about people who do the same work I do."
Of course, my bitchiness kicked in immediately. The funny thing is I really didn't care what we watched on that particular evening. There wasn't a show I felt invested in, and the documentary sounded interesting. I was being bitchy just to be bitchy, "No, I am not watching some boring-ass documentary about your work."
Bob didn't say a word. He just stood and walked over to my recliner, "Get up."
"Fuck off! I'm not getting up. What the hell is a matter with you anyway?"
Bob reached down and grabbed the remote from my hand. I was livid! "You give that back right now mister!"
He threw the remote onto the couch and stared down at me. The glare he sent my way should have warned me, but I was used to my bitchy ways and wasn't about to back off, "What the hell is a matter with you? Have you lost your fucking mind?"
He reached down and grabbed my wrists. The next thing I knew I was being yanked to my feet. He spun me around until my back was to him and he growled in my ear, "Get your ass to the bedroom right now!"
"Fuck you buddy! I'm not going anywhere!"
He didn't say a word. The next thing I knew I was picked up and tossed over his shoulder. My fists pounded his back as he carried me to the bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and looked at me coldly, "Get your ass out of those clothes now or I will tear them off you."
The look in his eyes was starting to scare me but I didn't back off, "Go fuck yourself!"
He grabbed my ankles and yanked me to the edge of the bed. He reached down and grabbed the neck of my blouse. Before I could react or say another word, he ripped it! The buttons flew as he pulled me up by the ripped blouse. He peeled it off me and grabbed my bra. He pulled it up and off my tits before unhooking it from the front. His hands pinched both of my nipples hard, and I squealed in pain.
He glared down at me, "Don't make me take your pants off. You won't like what happens."
At this point my bitchiness wasn't enough to overcome his fury. I knew instinctively that I wasn't going to win this with attitude. I also realized something about this was pushing my buttons. Bob had never been domineering with me. He was my gentle and tolerant husband, the one who always offset my bad attitude with kindness. I had never seen this side of him, and it was exciting. My nipples were hard, and chills ran down my arms.
He started forward and I scrambled to get my pants down. I looked up at him expectantly. I could see the anger in his eyes unchanged, "Underwear too. Now!"
I bit my lip as I pulled my panties off and dropped my bra to the floor. Bob sat down on the bed, "Get your ass over here. I want you laying across my knees."
I hesitated and he grabbed my wrist. He pulled me across his legs and held me in place with a hand on my back, "I am sick and tired of your bitchy attitude. That is going to change starting tonight." With that said he smacked my ass hard. It stung like crazy, and I tried to get up. He held me down and gave me another swat, "You had better not move again or I will spank your ass until you can't walk for a week."
I quietened down and lay on his legs. I was so angry I was quivering. I was also feeling something else. Something I wasn't sure I wanted to admit to myself. He gave me another smack and I continued to quiver but somehow, I wasn't as angry. By the time he had smacked my ass for the tenth time I was no longer angry. Holy shit! I realized I was turned on by this!
His hands pushed my legs apart then 'Smack' against my pussy. I felt like I jumped three feet in the air! Another lighter smack against my pussy followed by his fingers pulling my labia apart. One touch of his finger between my labia told him all he needed to know. I was soaked and he knew this was turning me on. He gave my pussy another little smack then shoved me onto the bed, "Lay there on your stomach and don't move."
I laid on my stomach with my red ass at the edge of the bed and my legs hanging off. If my eyes had been opened, I would have been looking at the drapes on the window. The rustling sounds behind me led me to believe that my husband was taking off his clothes. I laid there quivering, no longer with anger but with arousal. I felt totally submissive, and I was loving it.
I felt his hands grab my ass and spread my cheeks. He spat on my ass and used his thumbs to rub it on my asshole, "What the fuck are you doing mister?"