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My life was becoming a sleeping museum of contemporary American culture — a living death. I wish I could’ve seen his expression, watched his pain. I was at the perfect distance: my knee drove hard into his crotch, evoking a horrible wail from him, sending him in a desperate dive to the floor, where he writhed, clutching at his maleness. Looking at my pathetic, beaten husband — my toppled, defeated man — I became bitter. I moved up behind him, and ordered him on his knees. I had broken several of my fingernails on the flesh of his buttocks.
I quit my job, you see, and was lazy about finding a new one. Again my hand flew out — instinctively, self-protectively — this time in a fist. But my vision went red, and I began beating my husband up. I grabbed his hair — “how do YOU like being jerked around by the hair? I pressed his head back against a wall with my crotch; ground his skull against it like I wanted to turn his brains to powder. At first he stalled, then I kicked him in the side, triggering a deep, gasping sound from his chest. The huge artificial penis extending from my crotch like a swordfish’s spike, I moved up behind my husband, predatory, ready to ravage his tight little ass. While I was screwing my husband’s hole I nailed him in the balls a few more times; at one point I grabbed his nuts and tried to crumple them up like croutons in my fist, making him recite the Lord’s Prayer while I did so.
Wife Enslaves, Beats Up, Cuckolds Her Inferior Husband During our first few months of marriage, Justin and I were annoyingly conventional. He was too close to get much momentum in his swing, and I leaned even closer to him, holding up my own arm to block his dizzy-headed, limp attack. Soon I learned that all men are that way — when handled correctly — but at that time my husband was the sole target of my contempt. Quickly, I proceeded to our bedroom — opened my closet — and, stripping down to my panties, I strapped on the eleven-inch dildo. Maybe you can learn from this, Justin, so that one day maybe you can please me like a man.” Then, releasing his little balls, I took my husband’s virginity in a ruthless fashion.
I saw myself slipping into the nightmare of trite middle-class life that had so thoroughly repulsed me during college. But I was alarmed that he was still capable of putting up any fight at all, and I was also a little tired of messing around with featherweight artillery, so while I stood inches away from him, I snapped my knee up as rapidly and forcefully as I could. Then I went back out to the living room where my husband still lay on the floor, shaking, clutching at his groin, his sobs toned down to steady weeping. “Just pretend I’m one of your little buddies at work, Justin.” I speared the dildo between his cheeks, pounded it deep into his body.“Just pretend this is one of their little peenie-weenies.” By the time I was finished with him, by the time I thought I had proved my point to him, my husband’s voice was gone from him crying out so loud, at times screaming.
Hensen and Kevin Hart, debuted April 20, 2012 as the #1 movie in America for two weeks in a row.
Sources say the memo may have been leaked by a former staff member, who may not have been invited to work on the new LA-based show.
His career has continued to flourish, becoming a top-rated radio host, fashion entrepreneur, best-selling author, popular game show host on Family Feud, and 2013 People’s Choice Award winner as “Favorite New Talk Show Host” for his new daytime show Steve Harvey.
Harvey just recently renewed deals in January 2013 for his daytime show and radio show.
One night while we ate my husband complained that his steak was too rare. Icily, irritated at his whining, I returned his look. “And I mean NOW.” The next few seconds seemed to consume hours. The punishment I chose for my husband took a variety of different forms: some mainly physical, some psychological.
I was aware of three things: his finger aimed like a gun at my face; the echo of his bullyish voice reverberating in my mind; and the pounding of my heart in my chest. Kicking his chair back, Justin rose from the table. For example, about a month after I first raped Tim, I coincidentally ran into a man I had met a couple of times in college. I can still date other people, though.” “Oh, you mean: your husband wanted to see other women, so you decided that it’d only be fair if you could–“ “No. But I see other men.” “Does he…” “He knows about it, yes.” “What does he say?When he came home he was often exhausted, and our sex life suffered. “Why haven’t you been in the mood for sex lately, Justin? Our relationship became, for a time, a prolonged struggle in which he attemped to re-assert himself as the dominant party — in response to which I inflicted further punishments upon him.