Secrets need to be eradicated

Marriage is not friendship, even if this is widely believed. A lasting relationship also has nothing to do with romantic love but follows clear laws that do not have to be negotiated but are given by nature. It is obvious that the man is the stronger and takes the lead. Just like with Markus and Petra.

He had made it clear to her right from the start: There would be no relationship of any kind with him, but a classic marriage. Consequently, she would not be a partner who could claim equal rights, but his wife, who bore his name and whose life would revolve solely around him. What he said was the law and anyone who resisted would feel punishment. After all, he was the man and he determined what was to be done, what is permissible and prohibited.

There were no secrets between them. At least that's how it should be, because as he found out one day, his wife hadn't really internalized this principle yet.

It was an inconspicuous letter made of the typical gray recycled paper, which suggested some kind of legal authority. The sender was the local community and the content was anything but pleasant. It was about speeding and a fine that should have been paid a long time ago. Now it had already increased by reminder fees and the amount was due within 3 days.

His wife was caught speeding, it turned out. She had driven into one of the numerous speed traps that covered the whole city like mines. This was a lucrative source of income for the city. For his wife it was a serious problem. Markus was of the opinion that as the head of the house he not only had the say and was the unrestricted master of his wife and children. He was also master of the finances.

So there was only one account that he and his wife had access to. She was allowed to withdraw a fixed amount of pocket money from it every month, which she spent almost exclusively on clothes. There was a budget for shopping in the supermarket that she was not allowed to exceed. Any other expenses she had to negotiate with him beforehand. It was therefore not possible to simply pay 50 euros for a traffic ticket without him finding out about it.

That was the problem. She hadn't dared confess the traffic violation to him, even though that probably wouldn't have had any serious consequences. Instead, she had chosen to ignore the problem, so he only found out about it via this letter from the office. And that was exactly what he couldn't let her get away with. His wife owed him openness and honesty. This included her confessing mistakes to me and I deciding whether and how she would be punished.

As I said, he would have forgiven her for a simple offense like speeding. It was almost impossible to avoid that in our city anyhow. But he would not forgive her attempt to hide the crime from him. She deserved to be punished for that. And in such a way that she learned from it for all the future.

So he called her into his office.

"Have you something to confess to me?" he asked her bluntly. She was silent and he could almost feel the thoughts racing through her head. What does he know? What did he find out? What can I continue to hide and what do I have to admit? You should never trust a woman blindly. She will have no qualms about betraying her husband when given the opportunity. Above all, she will do everything to avoid a threatened punishment. And he was determined to punish her, which she apparently realized as well. Consequently, she did what women always do when they're caught and don't know how any way out: When he held the official letter under her nose, she began to cry. She lied to him and said that she just forgot to tell him that she had run into a speed trap. She justified her behavior and insulted the municipality, which only wanted to rip off the citizens. On her knees she begged his forgiveness and promised never to hide anything from him again.

"You'll never do it again, Petra," was his reply, undeterred by her pleading and pleading. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll simply be too scared to hide something I, as your husband, should know."

She knew she had lost and collapsed sobbing.

"I'm going to transfer the ticket now. You go downstairs and get ready. We'll see us in fifteen minutes."

She knew what it meant to be sent "downstairs". Our punishment room was down in the basement. That's where each of the children ended up when they messed up something. There she would also receive her punishment, because there she could scream as much as she wanted and nobody would hear her.

He quickly completed the unnecessary transfer and first treated himself to a decent single malt from the house bar. It was important that he calm his anger, or he'd probably be beating her black and blue in rage. But a man does not let his emotions rule him. A real man knows how to control himself and does what needs to be done with all determination. So he waited until his emotions had subsided. He waited a good half hour and then went downstairs.

As expected, she was kneeling in a corner of the room facing the wall as he entered, carefully locking the door behind him. Of course, she was naked. A sinful woman simply had to be naked to receive her punishment. Once again, he was taken by her shapely buttocks. It is simply a reward for a strict husband to make such a woman's butt dance and give her bright red welts that she would feel for days later.

"Come here," was his command and she winced slightly.

She stood in front of him, eyes downcast guiltily. He could feel her trembling imperceptibly. She was scared and that was a good thing. Fear is the precursor to remorse, and it was good when a woman not only loved and adored her husband, but also feared him a little. Fear of punishment would encourage their obedience. Fear of his whip would banish any hint of rebelliousness or even rebellion from her mind.

She knew instinctively what was expected of her. She humbly dropped to her knees. She clutched his legs and looked up at him pleadingly.

"Please," it came barely audibly from her lips. "Please don't. I promise I'll never hide anything from you again.” That was the moment even a grown woman and mother of two turned back into a little girl, kneeling before her overbearing father and begging for mercy. "I'm really sorry."

He looked down at her with a straight face. No mercy could be expected from him and forgiveness would only come after she received her deserved punishment. She knew it, and yet she clung to one last thread of hope before the inevitable event.

"Take your position," were his words, burying all desperate hopes. He watched as she hesitantly pulled away from him. He watched impassively as she walked to the penalty stand on unsteady legs and did what she had not done for the first time in this room. She draped her body over the padded top and he felt, not without a certain excitement, how her buttocks parted and she revealed to him everything a woman had to offer.

Her flesh was fair and untouched. For weeks he had seen no reason to spank her so that her magnificent buttocks were free of welts. Even now he would have preferred to grab her with both hands and fuck her hard. But first the work and then the fun. First the punishment and then the pleasure.

He put the wide leather belt around her waist, making sure that she was reliably fixed and had no chance to leave the position that was simply ideal for punishing a woman. He tied her wrists to the front feet of the buck. He fixed her ankles to the back feet in the same way. He caught the scent of her sex and took one last look at the target of his desire.

"You deserve to be punished and you will get punished in a way that you will remember for a long time."

With that he went to the opposite wall, where a whole arsenal of punishment instruments hung carefully in a row. He didn't have to think long because this time he was sure what he would take. He single-mindedly grabbed a supple riding crop, which he had rarely used before. But first he put a gag on her because she would scream and he didn't want to be affected by her cries of pain.

"Your father would be proud of me if he knew that I treat you with the usual severity and continue his education undiminished," was his comment while he hissed the crop through the air.

A riding crop is a merciless instrument, and he knew it would hurt her. But just as it drives a horse to peak performance, it is ideal for showing a woman who her master is and who has the right to demonstrate his power.

He didn't swing far, but he struck powerfully, and it wasn't long before her untouched buttocks were covered with bright red welts. She bucked violently in her bonds, but her range of motion was limited and her two firm, elastic buttocks couldn't help but desperately absorb each blow while at the same time preparing for the blow that was to follow.

He knew it wouldn't be long before the first welts would burst open. But that's exactly what he wanted to achieve, and he only stopped when the first drops of blood appeared and he knew that she had reached the limit of what she could take.

As always, this particularly violent punishment had aroused him and his cock demanded release from his pants. He untied her bonds, except for the wide leather strap that reliably held her still violently twitching butt in position. Then he released his cock. He took a jar of vaseline, positioned himself between her spread buttocks and extensively prepared the entrance, which he wished to use this time. She didn't particularly like being entered this way, but that shouldn't be his concern. He fucked her extensively, looking at her battered bottom, which had once again received what it was made for.

"A woman who doesn't squeal under the whip every once in a while will eventually become cocky and you won't be able to control her," were her father's words that came to mind while using the man’s daughter. He did not fuck her out of love and desire, but to show her who her master was and whom she had to serve, whether she wanted to or not.

As always after a spanking of his wife, his orgasm was particularly violent, and he erupted into her with a loud grunt before his cock began to shrink and his lust was satisfied. Then he undid the leather strap. He helped her almost caringly from the bench, took her in his arms, kissed her and carried her upstairs to the common bed.

The children were with their grandparents that evening. They hadn't heard anything about their mother's punishment. At most, they would be surprised in the coming days that she bit her lip every time she sat down and that she was somehow "different" in other ways. When it comes to punishment, mothers and children aren't really that different.