Does the Punishment Fit the Crime?

"Good luck, Boss. Don't back down. He needs to be brought down a few pegs."

That's when I set my plan in motion. A few days later, a large package arrived, and I carefully inspected the contents. Everything was there but when I looked at each item, I shook my head in disbelief. I found it hard to believe that people used them for sexual purposes. The only familiar items were the tubes of KY Jelly.

After Martin's "change of heart" our homelife did improve but I was far from absolving my husband of his crimes. As always, he was very attentive to the children, and they simply adored their dad. Towards me he was kinder, but there was also an undercurrent of anger. I could feel it and slowly his shitty attitude resurfaced. Although subtle, it was there, his smarmy way of speaking to me.

A letter from our family doctor stating that Martin was STD free arrived and he used the opportunity to ask if he could move back to the master bedroom, but I flat out refused. He made no move to initiate any intimacy, no kisses, no cuddles, and no hugs. Nothing! Under his breath, he would make snide comments that were hard to catch. We missed one appointment with Dr. Greene because Harry was sick, but he failed to show up for the next one. When I asked him why, he gave me some bullshit excuse about working late.

"Why didn't you call me? We sat there waiting for you. When I called your phone, it went right to voicemail."

"I guess I had it on vibrate and couldn't hear it." He replied in a snippy way.

My god, I was steamed, really steamed but I played it cool, because it made me more determined than ever to exact retribution.

Martin was digging himself a deeper and deeper hole. At first, I thought a weekend would be sufficient but now, I was committed to at least a week or seven days, no less.

It was obvious that he was regressing and just made me more determined to go through with his "attitude adjustment" plan.

On a Friday, not long after Martin's "change of heart" episode at Dr. Greene's, I dropped the children off at my sister's. They were spending the next two weeks with their cousins at the beach house in New Jersey, and two more excited kids I never saw. Without them underfoot it was the perfect time to implement my plan.

When Martin arrived home after work, he was greeted by two cold slices of pizza on a paper plate and a warm beer at his usual spot.

"What the hell is this, Claire?"

"What does it look like?"

"Like crap!"

"Too bad cause that's all there is, dear." I said in a scathing voice.

"What's wrong with you?"

He seemed a bit nervous now.

"Martin, I'm not ready by a longshot to forgive you and I haven't forgotten either. I had hoped that your "revelation" in Dr Greene's office would change you but its sad for me to say but it most definitely has not."

My husband was staring at me with wide eyed trepidation.

"I have a very interesting proposition for you, and I doubt you'll like it very much. For some time now, I've thought of a fitting punishment for your misdeeds. You are in dire need of an attitude adjustment and correction. I'd like to believe the counselling is working but I'm convinced that it's not so I'm ready to implement my plan. If you agree to my terms and you complete your punishment, then we can go on as before. But, if you violate any of the terms, I will send the investigative packet to the senior partners at Pennington, Colby, and Harris."

Further, if you decide that you don't want to reconcile, I will send the packet also.

"You're not leaving me much choice, are you?"

"No, but I think the punishment fits the crime."

"So, you're blackmailing me?"

"That's an ugly word. For the sake of argument let's call it your reclamation program and that's my insurance policy that you will comply with my program."

For the first time in a long time, Martin looked nervous.

"Ok, what is this reclamation program?"

There was that arrogant tone of voice that I hated.

"I'm glad you asked because I'd hate to send this very damaging information to your employers, especially since your father's company did the investigative work.

"Claire, can you get to the point?"

"Of course, for one week or seven days, you will submit to me sexually.

I pulled out the shipping box from the hall closet. Inside was a strap on, 2 harness, and tubes of KY jelly.

"What are you planning on doing with all...ah...that?"

"Since the girls are at the Jersey Seashore for the next two weeks with my sister, it will give us the privacy necessary to complete my...ah...program. You will be spread eagle on the bed and held securely in this harness, a bolster will be placed under your pelvis, raising your derriere up and making it very accessible to me. I'll be wearing this."

I put the strap-on harness around my waist. I'd bought the 9 inch long, very realistic looking dildo, medium girth model for maximum penetration. Martin is slender, and he has a very nice butt. However, my goal wasn't to hurt him but to humiliate him.

Martin's eyes grew as wide as saucers.

"You're not serious, you're...you're just trying to scare me?"

From the expression on my face, my cheating husband knew I was very serious indeed.

"I will take the opportunity, while you are partially immobilized, to penetrate your rectum and fuck your sweet behind. Of course, I doubt you will get very much pleasure from it, and it will likely hurt quite a bit until you ah...get used to it. I expect there will be a lot of crying and repentance, but we will complete the program. I, on the other hand, will be getting quite a bit pleasure from fucking you. By the end of the 7 days, you will address me as mistress in the bedroom from then on and I will call you my "bitch boy." From what I've read online, you will beg me to fuck that nice tushy of yours every time we make love. Apparently, the orgasms can be very explosive for men but initially you will suffer quite a lot."

"Claire, some joke...ha...ha...ha...what do you really have in mind?"

I held up the strap-on, harness and tube of lube.

"This is America, land of the free and home of the brave. Now you're free to do whatever you want but I want to stress that the consequences can be dire."

I held up the investigation report envelope.

"And I wonder just how brave you'll be when I'm ramming this into your rectum? But you have a choice, submit to me or I send..."

Again, I held up the large manila envelope with the damning evidence. My philandering husband looked utterly defeated.

"All right, you have me over the proverbial barrel. Can you give me some time to think about this?"

"You have approximately thirty seconds for a yes or no. If you go over the time allocated, I add an additional day of punishment. A no, and you already know the consequences." Time starts now!"

Martin hemmed and hawed as the timer on my cell phone counted down. When the timer reached zero, a bell sounded.

"Times up! Yes, or no?"

Poor Martin hesitated too long.

"Ah...oh...I guess so...yes...I accept the punishment."

"I'm glad to hear that but you went over the time allocated. Therefore, I will be adding an extra day. You are now at 8 days."

"Jesus Claire, can't cut me a little slack?"

I shook my head and Martin hung his head in despair.

"When do we start?" he asked barely above a whisper.

"Tonight, after supper. But I want you to use this suppository laxative now, so that you are sufficiently cleaned out for our little romp."

"Where does it go?"

"In your rectum."

"When did you become such a...mean bitch Claire?"

"After I learned that you were cheating on me with not just one but two of your legal assistants. Did you know that one of them was married and her husband is planning on divorcing her because of you? They have a two-year-old son. So, I feel absolutely no pity for you. You will write and send letters of apology to Suzanne and her husband for destroying their marriage and family. And calling me names will get you an additional day. You are now up to nine."

I walked out of the room and went upstairs to prepare the guest bedroom for my reclamation project. I didn't want to soil the master bedroom with our sordid activities.

Dinner was a very quiet and solemn affair. My husband looked like he was going to the gallows, and I was hell bent on completing his reclamation. Part of Martin's punishment was that he had to do the dishes since I cook all the meals. No more ignoring them and running off to the family room to watch TV.

"Martin, you have 15 minutes to meet me in the spare room. No clothing of any kind will be worn by you, in other words, you must be naked. Failure to comply will..."

My husband looked utterly defeated but sprang into action cleaning the dinner dishes.

"Oh, yes. You must shower and take time to properly clean the area I will be penetrating. I suggest you get a move on!"

At exactly the 15-minute mark, Martin flew into the room sans clothing. I made him get on the bed on all fours as I secured the harness. He was sufficiently immobilized, and I made him face the back of the bed. Then, I placed a large oblong yoga bolster under his pelvis as well as a large fluffy towel to catch any semen or fluids. The bolster did a great job of raising his tushy up to what I perceived was the right angle as his brown ring was properly exposed. I placed a large, angled mirror on the floor in front of him so I could watch his facial expressions. Fortunately, I noticed right away that he smelled like fresh soap, and I was really starting to enjoy this.

"Ready?"

Martin groaned.

"I asked if you're ready. If I ask again, another day will be added."

"Ready." My husband groaned.

"Now I'll lube this tight hole. But I have a feeling it won't be tight by the time I'm done with you."

Generously, I applied the KY jelly and attached the harness and strap-on to my pelvis. The part that sat against by vagina had attachments that would give me a great deal of pleasure as I moved in and out. I'm not the kind of person who enjoys hurting others, but I was incredibly steamed, hurt, and angry by his infidelity. In the worst way, I wanted to fuck the arrogance and bad attitude out of him.

I had arranged a meeting with Suzanne and her husband the following week to see if there was anything I could do to preserve their marriage. I planned on suggesting counseling as way forward. It took a great deal of patience and hard work to get Rob, Suzanne's husband, to agree. For her part, Suzanne was extremely apologetic, filled with shame and remorse for her actions. But, from my conversations with her, it was obvious that Martin pursued her and held her job in jeopardy if she didn't comply. That made my blood boil!

After I lubed the very real looking cock, I took aim and touched the tip to Martin's bung hole. He involuntarily jerked.

"Remember to stay still."

That was a moot point since he was trussed up very effectively.

"I've been thinking Martin, we should give my fake penis a name. What do you think of Arnold? It looks very realistic, with veins, a very hard stiffness, and a muscular appearance. Hmm?"

"Yesh." He choked out.

"Arnold it is then!"

With relaxed movements I gingerly pushed against his hole. It took a few strokes, but the tip wormed its way in.

"Oh...ugh..."

Another couple of pushes and the head was lodged in his butt.

"How does that feel darling?"

"Oh god, Claire it hurts." He groaned.

"Hmm...we're not done by a long shot. Try to relax, that should make it easier."

Martin's rectum was very tight, and I didn't want to hurt him too much, cause any bleeding, but I got into a rhythm, penetrating the head and about an inch or two. The motion was giving me a great deal of pleasure, rubbing just the right spots.

"Oh Claire...ugh...ugh...ugh...ugh."

"How's it going Martin?"

"Hurts...ugh...ugh...ugh!"

By now his back was covered in a bright sheen of sweat as I maintained my pace. I decided it was time to go deeper and another three inches slid in. I slowed up a bit to give Martin time to adjust.

"Ugh...oh fuck...oh God...it hurts...ouch!" he yelped.

"Hmm...I have to admit you're talking it like a man."

Well, I spoke too soon when I heard him start sniffling.

"Can we please stop...ugh...ugh...for tonight? God, it hurts so much!"

"Not yet, my little bitch boy. We're just getting started."

It continued reaming his sweet behind, grunting from my exertions. I saw his face in the mirror scrunched up in pain and eyes full of tears. Sweat was dripping off his chin. I momentarily stopped to add more KY to the phallus.

"Having fun darling? I know I am."

An orgasm was building in my groin.

"Oh yes...this feels so good...yes."

With vigorous strokes, I penetrated until only an inch or two was left.

"Almost there! Just a bit more. How ya holding up?"

Poor Martin, his face was a mask of pain and sorrow. Tears fell liberally from his eyes.

An orgasm shot through me, as I buried the remaining inches into his ass. I was "balls deep" as they say.

"Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!" I was shaking as I came.

"Ouch...ugh...ugh, Claire, please no more...no more, please mistress."

My husband burst into tears, crying like a baby, but he said the magic word. I stopped but didn't withdraw.

"Wow, that was fun! At least for me, you on the other hand, not so much...huh?"

Martin couldn't speak through his tears. Slowly I withdrew and cleaned the strap-on. It was then that I realized why guys like fucking so much, it's the dominant role, the power role. I found my first experience intoxicating. I could easily get used to fucking my recalcitrant husband on a regular basis.

"There now...it's all over...for tonight." I said soothingly.

When I released him from his harness he collapsed, groaning loudly.

"I had a nice cum, what about you?"

"Nooo...I didn't...nooo."

Martin's penis was granite hard, and I decided he needed a little reward. A few strokes from my lubed hand and he blasted his load onto the towel.

I left my husband right where he lay and took a nice leisurely hot shower. After a glass of wine and some snacks, I decide to check up on him. He was in the same spot and softly moaning.

"Martin, you should get yourself cleaned up and go to bed. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow night. I can't wait. Can you?"

My husband staggered out of the room and never answered me. The next morning, I noticed that he was walking kind of funny, but I didn't say anything. His butt had to be sore as I'd fucked him for at least fifteen minutes. When one is in the amount of discomfort, I'm sure he was in, it must have felt like an eternity. As he went outside to mow the lawn and do some yard work, his legs looked shaky.

That evening I was more aggressive and worked all nine inches in on just a few strokes.

"UGH! Ouch! Ouch! It hurts so much!" he screamed.

Back and forth, I vigorously fucked my husband while he protested loudly and then the tears came.

"Are you crying? Can't take it like a man? Can you my little bitch boy?"

"Ugh...ouch...ouch...it hurts so bad...ouch!"

However, I kept up my pace, fucking his delightful butt until I had a sweet cum.

"Pleaseeee stop Claire...ugh...ugh...ugh! I feel like...you're splitting me...in half. Oh god...the pain!"

We were well past the fifteen-minute mark when I heard the magic word.

"Please mistress...please stop...oh...oh...oh!"

Again, I halted but kept his butt filled. As I freed him, his cock jerked, and semen flew out in a quantity that surprised me.

"Phew, that was good for me! How about you?"

Martin was crying with his face buried in a pillow.

"There now, don't cry. I wanted you take this like a man but...I guess you're less of a man then I thought, just a pathetic bitch boy."

"Tell me, are you my bitch boy?"

"Yesss, I'm...your...bitch boy."

He was crying like a baby when he said it for the first time. It sent thrills of elation down my spine. Never would I have believed that his "attitude adjustment" could be this successful and it wasn't over yet by a long shot!

While I was very pleased by the progress, I was far from finished with him. When I was done with his reclamation, I wanted him to be a completely changed man.

Later, I checked on my husband, and he was snoring, so I gently laid a blanket over him. The following morning, he was still on the bed, sleeping soundly. Carefully, I inspected his rectum for any signs of blood but there were none.

Monday, I went to work in a much better mood than I had for weeks. Regina noticed and I just winked at her. I wondered if Martin was sitting at his desk and was having trouble. After three days of deep rectal fucking, he must have been sore. An inner tube like they use for hemorrhoid sufferers would help ease the pain, but I wasn't going to volunteer anything that would ease his suffering. While I did feel a little sympathy for him, I wanted his total submission. Nothing else would satisfy me.

Over the next two days, I fucked Martin like a whore. Drilling his sweet ass like there was not a tomorrow. He cried like a baby every night, but I was a woman possessed with a purpose. To my amazement it was incredibly empowering. The satisfaction of pumping that phallus into him was off the charts. The one effect for him after all the vigorous fucking was his granite hard erection. I would give it a few strokes and he'd spew sperm like a fountain. It was the only pleasure I allowed him. Otherwise, judging by his pained facial expressions in the mirror, it was anything but pleasurable. But atonement had to be made and he brought it all on himself.

It was toward the end of the fifth night, all nine inches were submerged in his behind. With almost sadistic pleasure, I reamed his sweet ass.

"Ok, Martin. You're taking it like a champ. How's it feel?"

"Oh mistress...I can't take any more...ugh...ugh...ugh!"

My husband was sobbing, moaning, and groaning.

"Please stop...it hurts bitch boy sooo much."

In just five days, I'd destroyed his manhood and made him submit to me, but we had 4 more evenings of pure indulgence, I mean my indulgence. Even though I gave him an orgasm each time, it was the least amount of pleasure he ever got in the bedroom. Too bad because I was having the time of my life and I wasn't sure how I was going to relinquish this feeling of power I had over him. It was downright exhilarating as the act of drilling my hubby's cute tush had lifted me to a higher plane and felt immensely freeing.

My confidence level soared. One morning, Regina walked into my office and shut the door.

"Hey, what do you need?"

"What I need is for you to spill the beans and tell me what's going on with you and Martin. I'm curious as hell! Is it working?"

I nodded my head vigorously.

"Much better than I thought it would."

"Has he cracked yet...ya know submitted?"

"Oh yeah! I make him call me mistress in the bedroom and I call him my little bitch boy"

Regina had her hand over mouth in shock.

"Your kidding?"

I shook my head.

"My god boss, I knew you were serious about his, should I say "re-training" but damn! I think you might have a second career as a dominatrix!"

We both snickered.

"So far it has exceeded my expectations and I'm very surprised how the act of fucking him has given me this extraordinary feeling of superiority, of dominance. I just might have to have a sex change; a penis is a very powerful tool."

We looked at each other and burst out laughing!

Now, in the evenings when we ate dinner, he could barely look at me; his superior attitude had vanished. Every morning he kissed me goodbye before I left for work and every night a kiss when I got home. He was on time for his discipline and the kitchen was spotlessly clean, so was the hall bathroom. While we had minimal conversations, he was as sweet as he could be.