No, this time she has gone too far.

“Fine, if that is how you want to play it.” You're still less then pleased with your convorting wife and are in no mood to play her mind games. “Go get the paddle from the hall closet.”

“Oh come on!” Selina immediately loses her seductive tone and steps away from you. “That thing stings like hell.” She emphatically complains.

“What did you just say?” You will have none of her back talk this night. “'All I can do is admit my guilt and take my punishment.' This is your idea, not mine, unless you were lying about that too?”

“Fuck!” Selina swears and storms off to the hall closet.

“But first lose the catsuit.” You now resolve that if you're going to punish your wife you're going to have to make this one stick. “And put on that outfit you were suppose to wear after losing our last baseball wager, the one you talked your way out of.”

“You have to be joking.” The buxom “former” thief's head whips around and glares at you in disgust.

“Now you're up to fifteen, care for more?” Is you reply.

“Fucking bastard.” Selina murmurs under her breath but marches off to the bedroom to change.

Several minutes later your wife returns still clearly ripped about her predicament. She holds in her hand the implement of her chastisement: a sizable rigid clear acrylic paddle with holes in the blade and that has an extended handle. Selina always feigns resistance to a good spanking, but you know it really turns her, and you certainly enjoy tanning your willful bad-girl wife's sexy backside, however, this paddle is different. You bought it online after reading it was the most painful spanking device available with the intention to use it as part of your ongoing “Swear Jar” wager. You've only used it once, however, and only for ten hard swats. After Selina bitterly complained the bruises and the soreness didn't go away for a week you packed it away in the hall closet thinking you wouldn't use it again.

Enjoying the sight of guilty wife standing their seething you briefly wonder if it's the fear of the paddle or the outfit she is wearing that angers her the most.

“Turn around.” You order. “I want to make sure your cheeks are bare.”

Selina grudgingly complies and spins around. You look over the tiny white cotton thong she is wearing. “Metropolis Meteors”, your favorite baseball team loathed by Selina, is printed in white around its gray waistband. The buxom beauty's ample rounded ass cheeks are full exposed with only a small triangle like patch of cloth covering her lower back. Though there will be zero protect from the sharp sting of the paddle you still order her to, “Pull them up.”

Grumbling, Selina pulls up her panties with one hand, giving herself a partial wedgie. Turning around she simmers, “You're one sick puppy making me wear this.”

At least she has answered your question and you cannot help but grin at Selina's top. It's a cheap white midriff t-shirt whose thin material makes it only good for a college wet t-shirt contest. Even dry you can clearly make out the gorgeous Gothamite's areolas while its high cut nicely shows off her toned naked abdomen in a most pleasing fashion. It's the picture and caption printed on the front, however, that is causing your wife's consternation.

The photograph is from the “New York Post” showing a beautiful white haired woman of very similar build to Selina. The caption reads: “Wanted! Felicia Hardy, World's Greatest and Sexiest Cat-Burglar.”

“Two bit slut.” Selina growls, “Copy my whole stick thirty-nine* weeks after I first suited up, the uninspired hack. There is no fucking way that hair color is real, and certainly not those tits.”

“The big difference is that the Black Cat didn't get caught and you did.” You cannot help yourself.

“What?!” You see Selina's knuckles go almost white as she clenches down on the paddle. “Get fucked! I never get caught!”

“Yes you did, and by the one person that you promised that you would give up the mask too.” You state. “And for language and the ongoing attitude you're up to twenty.”

“It's not like you don't masturbate too.” Is your wife's only retort, clearly her anger is getting the better of the usually calm and incredibly manipulative former Ms. Kyle.

“I haven't since we started having sex.” You honestly answer. “And the fact you still do means you're now taking twenty-five.” Looking around at all of Selina's elicit ill-gotten booty you add, “And I never used any of this twisted junk.”

Noticing for the first time a black metal box with silver steel edges labeled “LexCorp – Experimental – Top Secret” you pick it up and rhetorically ask, “What is half this stuff anyways?”

For a brief moment you see surprised concern in your wife's eyes.

“Selina, what is in this box?” You hold it up to her sight.

“I don't know.” She answers flatly without anger, which you know is her poker face.

“That's thirty with paddle.” You raise the container up higher and insist. “What's in the box?”

“I couldn't open it at LexCorp and the labeling teased my curiosity.” Your double talking wife explains. “I grabbed it and was going to play with the lock later.”

“Hpmt.” You don't believe her. “Either you start to learn to obey or I'll take this as a test of your lockpicking skills.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Concern and anger are mixed in her voice.

“Open the box right now as I command and then take your thirty with the paddle.” You give the buxom bandit her first option, before spelling out her other choice. “Or admit to the world you're the not the greatest cat-burglar and have your spanking be posted online.”

“No fucking way?!” For the first time in your life you see Selina be genuinely shocked by something you said. “You wouldn't post a porn video of your wife online?! Would you?”

“It won't be x-rated and it won't be my wife, but the Catwoman.” You explain. “You'll keep your Black Cat shirt on and put on one of your masks. You'll tell the camera that a recent professional failing as proven that the Black Cat is the better thief, that you're going into immediate retirement, and to atone for your arrogance you're going to be punished. You will then bend over, and before each swat say loudly and clearly say into the camera, 'the Black Cat is a better thief than Catwoman.'” Once you've taken your thirty you'll post the video and leave it up on the porn site you defiled my computer with.

“There is no fucking way I am doing that!” Selina hisses.

“The next words out of your mouth better be 'I'll open the box' or 'Ill take the camera' or your punishment doubles.” You flatly declare.