Broken Clocks

Chapter Twelve

Milio

"Milio." Her voice was sweet and melodic, horse from all the crying, and the way her American accent wraps around my name makes my dick jump.

I walk in to see my Angel sitting in a tub full of suds. Her body is mostly covered, but her thighs and arms are left out.

I imagine what I will see when the suds are washed off. It is taking all of me to not snatch her from the tub and fuck her on the bathroom counter.

"Can you help me again? My legs won't stop shaking." Her red puffy eyes stare into mine. She knows by now that I respond better to her when she gives me her full attention.

I reach in the water and pull the plug to the drain. "Can you stand." I grab a fresh white towel from the counter.

"A little." She grabs the edge of the bathtub and stands. I allow her to lean on me to step out onto the rug. "Thank you."

The suds run off her smooth ass ebony skin.

I quickly cover her body with the towel I don't want to have to fuck her again. I am already late.

She struggles to take steps.

I can't help but feel satisfied with my wife's awkward limp. Hopefully she learned her lesson. After getting enough of watching her struggle I grab her and lay her on our bed on the clean linen.

I put one of my shirts over her head. I can't help but let the back of my hand grace her dark pebbled nipple, the cold silver from her piercing clings across my ring.

She sticks her arms in one at a time. Not know that the longer she takes the closer I get to fucking her.

"Lay on your stomach." She rolls over to slow for my liking so I turn her over myself. I pull my shirt up above her ass.

Her body starts to trimble. "Don't worry I won't fuck you. Sadly I don't have the time." I try my best to switch my mind over from sinking back into her warmth.

I take a good look at the damage. She has long dark welts going from the bottom of her thighs to her lower back. They cover her butt and thighs mostly.

I grab the Neosporin from our bedside dresser and rub the thick cream over each and every welt, I know she is in pain because they look painful.

I hate marking up her skin, but a punishment is a punishment. How am I supposed to retrain her mind if she can't follow simple directions?

For future reference I will just have to withhold all alcohol from her. I can't have my wife being anything but sober at all times.

"You can sit up now." I stand from the bed and leave her to sleep, I know she is mad at me, but I will have to handle that later, I have work to do.

"Get some sleep. I will be back later." She doesn't respond, just lays awake under the covers.

I leave not wanting to waste anymore time.

The Warehouse in Moscow was where we did most of our dirty work.

My father would take me on week long trips from home just to show me how to properly slowly kill someone.