tagFetishPunishing Aylin

Punishing Aylin


Aylin didn't want to go home today. She didn't want to go home because she had messed up badly and had decided to confess the fact to her husband, Eric, before he had to ask about it. He had promised to punish her when he got home from work, and had given her careful instructions about how she was to prepare herself for him. So, although she had brought this evening upon herself, first by having a nine hundred dollar bill on her secret credit card, money that she had spent buying virtual housing, food and clothing for her various games on the Net; and then by confessing her folly to Eric before he found out on his own, she felt sickened by the thought of the beating that he told her that she would receive at his hands.

Aylin had a problem. She had had it for years. When she first met Eric she was a client in his debt consolidation consultancy. He specialised in helping defenceless women navigate their way through the shadowy hallways of the banking system. She had gone to his offices with multiple credit card debts of over $75,000. She was looking at possible jail time, definite bankruptcy. Through Eric's genius, however, she had come back into the black, with a small savings in the bank, in under three years. He had taken her case up personally, and had insisted that she get into one of those 12-Step programmes that helped people with addiction since he didn't want to see her get into this kind of trouble again.

For her, Eric became a knight in shining armour. He had saved her from ruin and so when he asked her out she was more than willing to accompany him to the dinner and theatre that were on offer that evening. The dinner was wonderful, but the play later that evening left her pensive. Indeed, she was surprised to learn that it had already had a run of five years. It was as far Off Broadway as one could get, but it seemed to have found its niche and be holding its own.

It had been about a woman who had a gambling problem and whose husband had had to take her in hand to enforce discipline. Aylin did not like it that the man in the play chained up and beat his wife if he caught her gambling. Even worse was the fact that she seemed to be the only person in the theatre that night who felt that this portrayal was wrong! She glanced at Eric out of the corner of her eye expecting to see him gathering his things so that they could leave in protest, but instead she saw that he sported a massive tent in his jeans!

This bothered her most of all, because she had dared to entertain visions of how their evening would end. She had planned to invite him in when he dropped her at home. She wanted to express her gratitude to him for the services that he had rendered through a more personal expression of her appreciation than the cheque that she had drawn when he closed her file. She had hoped to retain him as a friend. He could keep an eye on her; see to it that she didn't stray again. He was very attractive in an Ed Harris sort of way, and so she wouldn't have minded offering him benefits with that friendship. Now she wasn't sure what sort of man he really was.

Her fears were allayed when he escorted her to her door and declined her offer of a nightcap. He said that he had to stop by a client briefly before going home. Before taking his leave he informed her that he wanted her to think about what she had seen in the play because he didn't want anything like that to happen to her. He gazed into her eyes and smiled serenely, before planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He was gone in a moment, but he had left a very powerful impression.

With his help, as a friend who did not take advantage of the increasing number of benefits that Aylin offered him, Eric became her mainstay. Over the next year he advised her, occasionally, about sound investments for her money and showed her even more ways to manage her spending. With his help she projected the confidence that her newly ordered life allowed her. She got a promotion at work and invited him for drinks to celebrate. This time he accepted and it wasn't a surprise that he proposed to her because there had been a steadily growing sexual tension between them since the first night that they had gone out together.

They lived a nice life together. They had had a magnificent wedding and a honeymoon in Jamaica where he owned two time-shared villas. They lived in a nice home, they went out occasionally; they pursued activities together and separately. No one could have said that Eric was mean; for he wasn't. He was just disciplined about how he managed his affairs. He never had unpaid balances on his credit cards; he never missed payments for any utility bills or owed anyone for anything.

Aylin held her own too. She managed her money, less well than he did his to be sure, but he didn't pressure her about that. He just asked her each month if she was okay. He reminded her that it was a sign of her maturity to manage on her own but to ask him for help if she needed it. He was her husband, not really her financial advisor. Theirs was a marriage based upon love and respect and trust.

The sex was incredible! There were times, early in their marriage, when she thought that he might have been cheating on her because he had some unexplained absences; but since he admitted that he had to see clients at home sometimes, she relaxed. He explained that he wanted all of his clients to be as successful as she was. She was one of his star performers and he was very proud of her.

In any event, he was always ravenous for her. She reasoned that if he had just shot his load with someone else then he couldn't have been so randy when he came home to her; and he always attacked her cunt or ass like a madman whenever he came home. He always seemed eager to be with her and she revelled in the fact that she was his favourite way to reduce his stress.

True he seemed to enjoy forcing his thick, veined cock into her while pulling her hair back, most of all. Those role plays were a lot of fun and got them both very excited. He also loved to hold her down on her stomach, lie on top of her and pin her arms while slicing in and out of her. He would bite her sometimes, but never enough to hurt her unbearably, and the impressions never lasted for more than a couple of days; and he'd spanked her only once, while during the throes of a particularly intense orgasm one night. She just thought herself lucky to have a husband who was anything but vanilla. Her girlfriends had sometimes complained about their partners, but she never had a reason to do so.

Then complacency set in. She didn't feel the need to impress him as much. She had her life, he had his; they came together in carefully measured hours to do couple activities. She had got her promotion and things were going well at work. The longer hours at work meant that she didn't see her friends as much, but she still had those late nights to fill before Eric came home. She went online to keep up with everybody. She felt a little left out when she saw photographs posted showing events that she hadn't attended. She realised that she had more in common with some random strangers who'd joined the same online groups that she had, than she did her real-life friends. She joined more groups, ostensibly to discover who she really was. On a whim she bought and decorated a virtual house. She enjoyed that and bought a second house, revelling in her own artistic expression. She realised how cute her avatar was and asked Eric if they couldn't have a baby. He was very surprised and asked her where the sudden interest in babies had come from. She told him that she was bored.

To be fair to him, he was more attentive to her for several weeks after that conversation. He came home earlier and babied her more. He bought her little gifts and assured her repeatedly of his love for her. He explained to her though that he didn't think that it was a good idea to have a baby since he didn't really have the time to devote to one right now, and boredom was not a good enough reason for her to take on something like that. He suggested that she take on a hobby instead to fill the hours when he had to work in the evenings. He bought her a year-long membership at their local gym. Then he was gone again. It was back to the gruelling schedule of late nights and weekends alone. These were punctuated by passionate sex to be sure, but something was missing.

Aylin filled her lonely hours with her new life online. She set out to find new friends and explore new worlds. She visited some online stores and bought some new lingerie and tried out some sex toys. They were pricey, but if Eric liked them then they were worth the money spent. He loved them! They brought him back to her in a big way but, again, only for a little while. She discussed her marriage with her online friends and sought their advice. Some things worked, others didn't, but eventually she decided to just please herself. She got out a new credit card that was supposed to be just for her little mad spending trips. She set herself an allowance of $300.00 per month for this and promised herself that she would stop when she reached her limit.

This was how she had slipped back into her profligate spending patterns. When she had overspent during her first month she decided to call it an advance from her second month's allowance. Not surprisingly, she took an advance from month three as well. She was looking for validation, for a sense of security; she was building the ideal life for herself online; a model that she planned to take into the real world. It had seemed okay at first, and even now she knew that she could retreat from this life. The credit card bill that she opened this morning frightened her though. She couldn't even remember spending this money and it was only the itemised statement that convinced her that there was no fraud here. She decided to take Eric at his word. She called him at work to ask for advice.

His voice had grown cold when she told him about her secret credit card and the bill that she had amassed and explained how it had got so high. He had asked her what the one for the previous month had been and she had told him that it was $750.58 and that she had pretty much spent the money the same way; the one from the month before was $674.30. She was on a downward spiral. Worse, she had lied to him when she had given him glowing reports for the previous two months. If she hadn't been so frightened by, what even she could see as a trend, she would not have told him about this month's bill either; since, technically she could pay it.

Eric had gone silent at his end of the line and it frightened Aylin. She had enjoyed his pride in her and it seemed as if her betrayal of his trust would cost her dearly.

"Eric?" she whispered. "Are you there?"


"Look, don't worry about it, I can pay the bill. It's not a problem," she said, suddenly regretting her phone call.

"You will pay for it, Aylin," Eric said quietly. "I had hoped that this would never have been necessary between us. I warned you from the very first evening that we went out together. You go straight home this evening. I'll be there by 7 o'clock and you'd better be waiting for me."

"Yes, Eric."

"Shut up. What you are to do when you get home by 6 o'clock this evening is to strip yourself completely naked. Put your nipple clamps on for five minutes and stand in the corner. Then I want you to take them off and spank your nipples as hard as you can, 10 times each. I want you to repeat that sequence five times before I get home. I will know if you have cheated, Aylin, so don't even try. When I get in I will complete your punishment."

Aylin did as she had been told; and so by the time her husband came home she was a trembling mess. Her nipples already hurt badly and she knew that this was going to be the start of a long night for her. She tried to explain her motivations to Eric, but he was not interested. He reminded her that her kind of compulsive overspending was an addiction like any other: narcotics, alcohol, overeating, and even the West's rabid dependence on fossil fuels. He reminded her that she knew that she could not afford to feed her habit.

Aylin listened shamefaced. Part of her embarrassment was because Eric spoke to her as if she were a wayward child while the other factor contributing to her discomfiture was that he remained fully clothed; and she was not accustomed to him ignoring her naked body as he was doing now. Even though he hadn't said so, she felt as if she disgusted him.

"...with the slave buckle," Eric said calmly.

It was then that Aylin realised, to her chagrin, that her attention had wandered during her husband's lecture and she had not heard his instruction. There was nothing for it but to confess by asking him to repeat himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said just now, Eric."

He looked at her and smirked. It was clear that he had known that she had been daydreaming.

"I know," he said, amused. "I asked you to get my belt with the slave buckle. That's what I'm going to use to remind you not to spend your money foolishly."

Aylin froze. Suddenly, she understood the significance of their first date. Suddenly his process became clear to her. He was so methodical in his response to her that she could not have been his first time at this. It dawned on her that he wore that belt every night that he worked late; every weekend with those insufficiently explained meetings at his clients' homes! He had worn it on their first date! He had left her that night having seen the play to go see a client! This was why his business was so successful! Eric punished his women to decrease their inappropriate behaviour and this was now her turn to graduate to Level II of his programme.

"Are your nipples sore, Aylin?" he asked when she returned with the belt.

"Yes, Eric," she replied, tears coming to her eyes.

"No, Aylin, you call me Mr. Hart while we're doing this."

She felt the first throb of her clit when he said that! This was going to be a Victorian-style birching! She had noticed that he had brought into the room, the bundle of switches that stood, she thought, as decoration in the large terracotta Panya jar that adorned their hall. He also had the paddle that hung on the kitchen wall, another decoration; until now. Eric had a jar and bundle of switches like it at work too, she realised in horror.

"I-I'm so sorry, Eric," she sobbed.

She felt the shame of disappointing him and letting herself down keenly. She knew that he really had trusted her and that she had behaved irresponsibly.

Her husband just looked at her, eyebrows raised. She remembered belatedly that this evening, he was not the Eric who loved her, but rather he was Mr. Hart, the man charged with disciplining her for her own good.

"You seem to have a difficulty learning things, Aylin," he said meanly. "Don't worry, we'll work on that."

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Hart!"

"I know you are, Aylin, but we have to make sure that you remember this for a long time. Go and stand beside the dining table."

She obeyed, all the while fighting against the sensations stirring in her loins. She could not believe that this could be happening to her.

"Bend over at your waist and hold on to the sides of the table, Aylin."

The woman hesitated, looking at her husband to see if he were serious. He was.

"Do it now, Aylin!" he said hitting her naked buttocks with the twig birch.

The sting made her yelp. She pulled away from him and, rubbing her behind, turned to gaze at him. It occurred to her that if she didn't say something then he might go through with it.

"Eric! Isn't this extreme? After all, it is my money!"

"How dare you, Missie! I am Mr. Hart to you, girl!" the man exclaimed and landed three quick blows of the reed switch on her rump. "Bend over or it will be worse for you!"

Aylin could see that there would be no reasoning with Eric for the moment. She decided to allow him to birch her with the reeds and then when he paused for breath then they would have to talk. She bent over the table and grabbed hold. Somehow, knowing how exposed she was turned out to be far more sensual than she had anticipated it would be. She wondered how she looked to Eric. She glanced at his crotch hoping to see signs of tenting there. She was not disappointed.

"Count them please."



She waited but nothing happened. She glanced around at Eric who stood there looking back at her impassively.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked at last.

Realisation dawned.


"Too late. Let us begin again."










"Please Eric! You can stop now!" Aylin begged, standing up.

"Let's start again."

"No! Eric! Stop!"

"Bend over."

"Eric! No! Please!"

"Bend over, Aylin!"


"Eric! Mr. Hart!"

"Good girl. Now bend over."


"Eric, please!"






The tears flowed freely, but Aylin managed to count out the twelve strokes to her left buttock. By the time Eric finished punishing her right cheek she was a blubbering mess. She promised to be a good girl. She promised never to lie to him again; never to waste her money ever.

"I know, Aylin, but just to make sure."


Aylin howled as the paddle hit her in the middle of her backside.






She was crying full out by this time, but Mr. Hart continued torturing her behind unabated. She counted twelve strokes with the paddle before he paused again. His hands felt delightfully cold as they caressed the curve of her heated flanks. With this gesture she knew that despite what was happening between them that he loved her. When he pushed first one, then two fingers into her slimy vagina and frigged her clit with his thumb she cooed and pushed back toward him.

He played with her for a few minutes before withdrawing his hand and pressing her away from him, painfully sensitive breasts plastered on the table again.

"We're almost done," he whispered hoarsely.

She heard him remove the slave-buckled belt from his waist of his trousers where he had put it when she had handed it to him earlier. The sounds of the belt being removed, and what might have been him winding it around his hand, frightened her, but she remembered his brief caress, and what it signified, and kept her position, stoically.


"One," she whimpered as the belt hit her.


"Two," she sniffed.


"Three," she huffed, grabbing on to the table for support as her knees began to unlock.



"Yes, my baby, that was four," Mr. Hart said gently.

He paused and looked at her, as if considering aborting his process. She could feel him psyche himself up for the rest of her punishment as he renewed his hold on her back.


"Five. Thank you, Mr. Hart," she whispered.

She heard him groan. He paused again.


"Mr. Hart!" Aylin whispered as an other-worldly feeling seized her and she no longer cared about the beating.

It did not hurt to have him rain blows on her rear. She had almost stepped out of her body. She smiled through her tears. Then she felt the thick blunt end of his diamond-hard penis as he sought immediate entry into her body. She was so wet that it was not hard for him to thrust his pole to the end of her shaft in one smooth movement. His fingers dug into her flesh desperately as he found the purchase that he needed to hold her while he bounced in and out of her roughly.

It didn't take him long to finish what the beating had started for them both; and when Aylin clutched helplessly around his cock as her orgasm hit her he grunted his release to the world through the teeth gripping his wife's shoulder. He lay on top of her for a while, pressing her into the table painfully, but unable to stand.

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byCinner© 11 comments/ 73524 views/ 8 favorites

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