Let the Punishment fit the Crime

Submitted by: Helpless

I knew something was up the moment I came through the front door. My wife greeted me dressed to the nines. I couldn't remember the last time she'd looked so stunning. We usually ate in front of the TV, but that night she led me into the dining room and I saw that the table was laid for a romantic dinner for two. I could guess what it was about, and as we sat down to eat she confirmed my suspicions. She said she felt like the magic had gone out of our relationship, especially our sex life. I agreed. What else could I do? Obviously I didn't tell her the real reason.

Anyway, she said she wanted tonight to be a new start. Fine by me, I thought, if it means more of her dressed like that. Picking up her glass of wine, she suggested we toast our new beginning. I clinked my glass against hers and drank.

When I woke up, I was lying on my back naked with my wrists and ankles securely shackled to the four corners our of bed. A ball gag had been stuffed into my mouth and secured with a strap around the back of my head. From the dark sky outside the window, I judged a few hours must have passed. For a moment I didn't notice my wife sitting at her dressing table, calmly sitting at the computer as if nothing was wrong. I tried to protest.

"I'm sorry honey," she replied, without looking up from the computer. "With that gag I just can't understand a word you're saying. But let me try and guess. You're wondering why you're chained up like that. Well, I think a man can't truly make a new start unless he first atones for the mistakes of the past, don't you? And boy, do you have a lot to atone for."

I immediately fell silent with terror. How could she possibly know about...

"How did I find out? Yes, you were so careful in erasing your browsing history, weren't you? Actually, that was what tipped me off. How was it the browsing history was always completely blank? I knew I wasn't erasing it, so you must be. But to hide what, I wondered. So I installed a clever little piece of spyware a few weeks ago. It's surprisingly easy! Ever since then it's been recording every site you visited. It made pretty interesting reading for me, I can tell you. I'd no idea there were so many prostitutes in this town. No wonder you had no interest in sex with me."

She paused for a moment. "Of course," she continued with mock innocence, "I suppose it could be that you were just looking at their websites and fantasising, but you never actually visited any of them..."

I nodded my head frantically.

"Don't bother," she laughed. "If that was true, why would they all be within 5 miles of here? Anyway, I know all about your secret hotmail account."

I laid my head back and closed my eyes. I'd opened that hotmail account precisely so I could contact prostitutes without there being any dialed numbers on my cellphone I couldn't explain. If she'd seen that, she knew everything. There was nothing I could do but wait and see what her revenge would be.

"Anyway, as I said, you need to atone for your sins before we can move on. There are 19 of them, in case you're wondering, over the past year or so. I counted them very carefully."

I groaned inwardly. This was going to be bad.

"Well," she said, "since I know all about what you do on the internet, it seems only fair that I should tell you about the sites I've been looking at. I thought it might be a nice idea to make the punishment fit the crime. So I spent the evening researching... well not prostitutes exactly, but the local dominatrixes. And you'll be happy to know we have quite a few!

But I think I've found the ideal one. I'm afraid she's not as young and pretty as the girls you like. In fact, she looks more like an East European shot putter in the days before they introduced drug tests in the Olympics. So I'm guessing she'll be pretty strong. And best of all, her website lists a huge range of tortures and punishments she can administer. I'm sure we can find 19 there to suit us."

I looked at my wife in horror as she picked up the phone and dialled. My eyes widened as she described my situation in detail, and asked this domme to come round as soon as possible.

"We'll be needing you for the whole night, I hope that's OK... Oh don't worry, money is no object!" she concluded, looking at me with an evil smile. "My husband has no problem with spending money on things like this."

I clung to the hope that she was just trying to frighten me and had actually dialled the speaking clock, but an hour later our doorbell rang. My wife went to answer it, and returned with the biggest, most muscular woman I have ever seen in my life. She was carrying two large holdalls, filled as I would soon discover with every kind of torture and punishment implement I could imagine, and quite a few I couldn't.

"Well, there he is," said my wife, unnecessarily.

"What do you want me to start with?" asked the domme.

"Hmm, let's see," said my wife, settling down in front of the computer again and reading through the list. "How about a good old fashioned flogging?"

"Coming right up. I'll have to put him on his front. Have you got the keys to the manacles?"

My wife seemed to hesitate at the idea of my being unlocked, even for a moment.

"Don't worry," the domme laughed, "He's not going anywhere."

Taking the keys from my wife, she knelt astride my chest. She unlocked the cuff connecting my left wrist to the bedpost. With almost superhuman strength she wrenched my arm across my body, and swiftly locked it to the opposite bedpost. She then did the same to my left leg, before unlocking and relocking my right arm and leg. As she predicted, I had no chance to escape and was now lying helplessly on my front.

She moved to the foot of the bed where I couldn't see her, but I heard the noise of her unzipping one of her holdalls and taking out the contents.

"Hmm," said my wife, "so many to choose from. I can't decide."

"I'd particularly recommend this one," replied the domme. "Though the men it's been used on wouldn't, if you take my meaning."

"Sounds perfect, let's start with that."

I heard them both walking towards the bed. The domme stood to my left, bending a vicious looking single-tail whip. I stared at it in terror, but my gaze was wrenched away by my wife grabbing hold of my hair and and twisting my head to face her. "Do you remember the first prostitute you slept with? I know it was a while ago, but try to think back. Was she good? I hope so, because this is punishment for that. I hope she was worth it."

She let go of my hair and walked back to her chair.

"I'll let you know when to stop."

I braced myself for the pain, but when the lash fell across my back, it was worse than anything I could have imagined. It burned as if a red hot iron bar was being held against my flesh. I screamed into the gag and thrashed desperately against the chains that were holding me, but it was no good. As soon as the agony died down to a bearable level, the whip cracked across my back again. I began to sob uncontrollably. Again and again the lash fell. I tried to beg my wife to make her stop, but between the gag and my screaming and sobbing I'm sure nothing intelligible came out. The beating went on and on until I thought I would go mad with the pain.

Finally, after what seemed an age, I heard my wife say "That's enough." I lay there, panting and sobbing, and heard her whisper in my ear.

"So tell me, darling, is she as strong as she looks? Well, I guess you'll have to tell me later. We can't take the gag off yet not when you have 18 punishments still to go."

I wouldn't go through that night again for all the money in the world. In addition to beating every part of my body even my cock, balls and the soles of my feet with every possible whip, cane, riding crop, paddle, cat'o'nine tails, tawse and strap, the domme fucked me up the ass with a huge strap on, used hot wax to tear off my body hair excruciatingly slowly, stuck needles into me, shocked me with electrodes attached to my nipples and genitals and rubbed into my cock some kind of lotion that made it feel like it was on fire.

The sun came up to find me a broken, sobbing wreck of a man, desperate to do anything at all to get free and escape more torture. I could have wept for joy when my wife finally announced that I'd taken all nineteen punishments and could now be set free. The domme took the keys and went to unlock the manacles holding my left wrist.

"Oops sorry, my mistake," said my wife. "Still only eighteen. Lucky I counted again, eh? We'll have to find something else to do to him. Any suggestions?"

"I could give him another flogging on his back," suggested the domme. "The welts from the first one have come up beautifully. Another one on the same spot would be agony."

"Tempting..." my wife mused, looking through her website again. "Oh wait, what's this? Enforced chastity? That sounds an ideal punishment for someone who can't keep his cock in his pants. Do you have a chastity belt with you?"

"No, they have to be bought specially. They come in different sizes and you can't reuse them for hygiene reasons. But I know a good place. Do you want me to get you one?"

"Yes please, the most secure on the market, money no object. Why don't you come back with it at the same time tonight. Don't worry, he'll be waiting for you, just where he is now."

Sure enough, my wife steadfastly refused to release me for the entire day. I was exhausted but couldn't sleep for the pain of lying on the hundreds of welts on my back. The domme returned that night with what looked like a medieval torture device, which the two of them locked securely around my cock and balls.

"Would you mind keeping the keys for me?" my wife asked the domme. "I mean, I can't imagine I'd ever give in to his pleading and begging for release, but you never know. Anyway, safest not to have them in the house."

"Sure," said the domme with a smile. "You give me a call when and if you want me to let him out. And if you'd like me to bring any of my other toys and make him pay for his freedom, you just let me know."

This has been my life for the past five years. I've only been let out a dozen times, and always had to take a severe beating as the price of my freedom. I've begged my wife over and over to let me go back to how things used to be. She simply laughs and says that when I could have her anytime I wanted I wasn't much interested, and at least this way she knows I'm not up to anything behind her back. As she likes to say, the punishment fits the crime.

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Page last updated 2009-Sep-12 by: Altairboy@aol.com