Slammed from Behind

By Reagan Snow

Some men want to be pegged from behind and other men deserve to be pegged from behind...

Enjoy these three stories - the hottest tales of men getting it in the tail for all the right reasons, from all the right women. "Slammed From Behind" is a collection of three pegging stories from author Reagan Snow, about women who harness all the power in the bedroom...and the kitchen...and the living room...
These women use that power and control to thrust their men into a new way of thinking.
Buy now to enjoy these scorching hot stories of women who end up on top and the men who like it in the end.

**Preview From “Slammed by My Ma’am”:**

“And now...round two,” my mind concluded.
I walked back into the apartment and straight to the entertainment center. I grabbed the video game console from the shelf, pulling it out far enough to get at the cables in the back. I yanked the connections loose and headed back to the balcony. I was so mad that I was foolishly planning my aim (wanting to be sure to hit the pavement and cause maximum destruction) and thus missed that John was standing in my way.
“You leave that the hell alone,” he said quietly. I could see the anger in his eyes.
“No. I am done with you laying around the house doing nothing all day,” I said in a low menacing tone. “I have let you go this long without having a job and you can continue to not have a job, but you are going to do something around here that isn’t playing games and making a mess.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reagan Snow
• Release date: Sep 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370297009

Reagan Snow

Hi and welcome! I enjoy exploring the recesses of the attic of my mind and let that curiosity take me wherever it may lead, from a hot wife getting more than she can find at home to a billionaire taking advantage of his wealth...you never know what may come next.If you want to be the first to hear about my new stories and receive a FREE FemDom erotica story, be sure to sign up for my newsletter at http://geni.us/Newsletter. I will never sell, trade, or lend your email address to others!Be sure to check back often for new FemDom Erotic stories.

Book preview

Slammed From Behind

Slammed From Behind

Pegging FemDom Dominatrix BDSM Erotica

Reagan Snow

Snowflake Press, LLC

Contents

Slammed by My Ma’am

Shafted by the Wife

Pegged at the Party

Free Erotica!

Also by Reagan Snow

About Reagan Snow

Copyright © 2016 by Reagan Snow

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

All characters in this story are 18 and over.

If you’d like to receive a free EIGHT story bundle, subscribe to my newsletter and receive a hot PEGGING story you can’t find anywhere else.

Slammed by My Ma’am

BDSM Pegging FemDom Dominatrix Erotica

Slammed by My Ma’am

Y ou could have taken out the trash or washed the dishes. Would it have been too much for you to throw in a load of laundry? I yelled at him as I roughly chucked towels into the washer.

Just as hard as it would be for you to not nag me the moment you walk through the door, my husband John shot back.

"So expecting you to actually do something while you are sitting at home all day, every day, is too much to ask and my bringing it up when I get home from being at work all day is nagging?" I fired back as I slammed the lid closed on the washer and hit the Start button.

You have no idea what I do all day, he responded with a hint of venom in his voice.

"You are right, but I know what you don’t do while I am at work making money, I said, cutting him off. Money that feeds you and clothes you and puts gas in your car and video games in your damn machine. All I am asking for is some help. I am not asking you to do everything. I am just asking for a little bit of help. But I realize now that I have stepped over the line." Sarcasm and bitterness tinged my voice.

You think I like knowing that this is how every day is going to end?? he demanded, his voice rising in volume.

And you think that I enjoy knowing that, at the end of the day, it is not really the end of the day?? I walked back into the living room and picked his gym shorts up off the floor, next to the couch. Really? Really? You think it is all cupcakes and lollipops knowing that when I walk through that door, that I can’t kick my shoes off, have a glass of wine, and forget how exhausted I am? Instead, I get to keep working. I get to clean and cook and balance the checkbook and pay the bills and do the laundry and wash the dishes and all the other things that my husband doesn’t want to help me with!

I threw the shorts back towards the laundry room, anger causing my aim to go wide. The gym shorts landed on the kitchen counter instead. I ignored it.

"You don’t have to do any of those things right when you get home so it is not my fault that you make the choice to do all of that stuff right when you come home," he said, starting to shout.

"And when, exactly, do you think this is all going to get done if it isn’t right when I come home?" I countered.

My husband, predictable to the end, crossed the room toward me. He stopped just far enough away from me that I couldn’t connect a good punch or slap.

Why don’t we forget the whole thing and go to bed. I will let you be on top for a bit, he said in his sexy voice, which as of late, just comes off as slimy.

This has been John’s go-to move for as long as I have known him. Whenever we fight, he tries to get out of it by pushing for sex. When I was younger, I fell for it. Now it is simply sleazy. Despite it not working for at least two years now, he still tries it every time, and every time it fails.

This is not a new fight for us.

John has not had a job since we moved to Minnesota. At first, I was sympathetic to his position. I had gotten a great job offer to be an associate professor of economics and he had gone along with the move because he was not making much progress in his career. Minnesota is a much cheaper place to live than New Jersey so I figured that we could make it on my salary alone. I also felt bad for moving him far away from friends and family and appreciated his willingness to support me by making this move.

So I let him slide. We didn’t need the money, so I wouldn’t require him to find a job. Now I’ve realized I should not have let it slide because I now have a second job of cleaning up after him.

Don’t touch me, I yelled as he leaned into me.

Come on, baby. You know it will make it better, he coaxed.

I’d had an especially hard day. It was finals week; every student who had slacked off all semester was in my office begging to turn in late assignments and asking review questions from 16 weeks ago.

Coming home to yet another mess must have been the straw that broke this wife’s back.

I walked around him, batting at his hands as he tried one more time to initiate sex. I started picking up his clothes off the floor. John watched me from where I had left him standing in the middle of the living room.

He didn’t react until I grabbed the video game controller and added it to the pile of stuff in my arms.

What are you going to do with that? he demanded.

I glared at him but did not say a word.

We live on the second floor of the apartment complex. Our place included a balcony that had a glorious view of the parking lot.

I crossed to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, opened the door, and, ignoring John’s rising objections, threw the pile over the railing.

I watched the clothes expand and flutter to the lightly snow-covered pavement. As I watched, I hoped the controller would miss the car parked directly below our apartment (I was more concerned about the neighbor’s car than I was his possessions, of course) and shatter on the frozen asphalt.

Alas, it stayed wrapped in a couple of shirts that landed in a pile of snow left from when the maintenance crew had plowed. Dammit.

John rushed to the balcony, shoving me out of the way, and leaned over the railing to stare at the impromptu yard sale I had just made.

You can be a real bitch sometimes! I was trying to get past this silly argument and then you do something like that! John yelled in my face.

Silly argument? I thought. Silly argument… The words banged around my brain like a freshly fired cannon ball.

And now…round two, my mind concluded.

I walked back into the apartment and straight to the entertainment center. I grabbed the video game console from the shelf, pulling it out far enough to get at the cables in the back. I yanked the connections loose and headed back to the balcony. I was so mad that I was foolishly planning my aim (wanting to be sure to hit the pavement and cause maximum destruction) and thus missed that John was standing in my way.

You leave that the hell alone, he said quietly. I