While Christine was looking forward to the wedding itself, Bruno was more consumed with the planned honeymoon in Italy and life together with his new bride. They had met only two years earlier, and had never really had any extended time alone together. Bruno was always somewhat bothered by this, but for some reason, Christine never was. She seemed more certain about their relationship and their compatibility for the years to come. She was a great girl, intelligent and independent, well educated, head strong, in great shape, and quite beautiful, with her green eyes and red hair, aged twenty-five. She was too good of a girl for Bruno to let go, so as risky as it may have seemed, marriage was the most logical step to take. He was a tall, healthy man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and at age twenty-seven, was already successful, having made partner at his accounting firm.
After their wedding, they immediately were on a trip to Italy. Throughout the twelve hour flight, the two were like tired love birds. The drama and excitement of the wedding was over, as was the hectic, non-stop atmosphere. The flight gave them an opportunity to relax, and just enjoy each other’s company. They smiled frequently at each other, neither really knowing the thoughts going through the other’s head, but somehow one can sense that Christine was more comfortable than Bruno.
They had chosen Rome as their initial destination, for both its history and for its diversity. It’s quite the city, with its architectural treasures living side by side with modern edifices, with trendy new shops complimenting ancient landmarks. Where else can one sit at once on the Spanish Steps and see shops bearing the names Prada and Dior?
Their arrived in Rome early in the morning, well rested having managed to sleep well on the flight and immediately took a taxi to Hotel Victoria, their boutique hotel. Christine had left this portion of the trip’s plan to Bruno. It was his task to find and book hotels. The hotel had a charming lobby, with a cluttered but clean look, and bit of a damp smell. Once their checking in was complete, the receptionist handed them an antique, cast brass Victorian era key. Seeing their gaze in amazement, the receptionist noted that the keys were actually vintage Victorian keys purchased by the hotel’s owner years ago from an auction. Christine had an evil smile on her face, gave a half nod of approval to Bruno, and grabbed the key.
They arrived in their room, and after a quick discussion, they agreed that it would be best to go and explore the city. They took turns showering and cleaning up, and put their belongings away. Immediately after stepping out of the lobby doors, they realized it was raining. Christine asked Bruno to run in and get an umbrella from the receptionist. Bruno came back in a couple of minutes bearing a blue umbrella, with a black handle. Christine looked at the umbrella and then gave Bruno a devilish look and said “how nice, black and blue, my favorite colors.” Perplexed at her comments, as she had always touted her favorite color as being lavender, Bruno carried on normally. He opened the umbrella and covered both of them and they began to walk.
Conversing while they walked, they decided they would first walk to the Spanish Steps, have lunch nearby, and then walk to the Trevi Fountain. Christine had changed her usual method of walking, as she was now walking in front of Bruno. Normally, she’s walk alongside him and they would often hold hands. Bruno figured that because of the rain and the umbrella, it made it easier for Christine to stay dry by walking in front. Nevertheless, she seemed to want to wander to each store and shop their saw along the way that caught her interest. Since he was holding the umbrella, he had to follow her each and every time. In his mind, Bruno cursed the rain as it was preventing him from walking side by side, holding hands with his wife, and preventing him from seeing the sights, stores, and shops he wanted to see. He almost couldn’t believe it, as he had been looking forward to finally having proper alone time with Christine, yet here he was following her as if he was her assistant. He soon realized that he was overreacting and that it was just the first day of a two week vacation, and after all, Christine seemed to be enjoying herself and that made him happy.
The twenty minute walk to the Spanish Steps seemed to be taking much longer, as Christine was stopping at almost every shop she encountered. Bruno was feeling a bit left out, as most of the shops were for women’s apparel, and of no interest to him. He soon grew tired enough to when he saw Christine shift her direction towards yet another shop, he gently grabbed her shoulder and asked if they can just continue on their way to their destination. To his surprise, she just looked at him and simply said “no” and proceeded to walk towards the shop. Stunned at her response, Bruno stood still for a moment. He then realized that Christine was walking in the rain towards the shop with no protection, and quickly rushed over to cover her with the umbrella. Upon entering the store, Christine began to dry the water off of her purse and jacket, and although she didn’t say anything to Bruno, one could tell that she was less than pleased. From that point forward, feeling guilty for his actions, Bruno followed suit and didn’t complain.
After two hours, they reached the Spanish Steps, and viewed its simplicity and majesty. The place was immensely crowded, and both Christine and Bruno thought best to come back later, when there might be less people, and hopefully no rain. They began searching for a place to eat and soon found a nice, quiet restaurant that looked authentic.
The table was simple but elegant, with a white tablecloth, and soon the waiter brought them bread and a liter of house red wine and took their orders. Bruno was gazing at the scenery around, when suddenly Christine broke the silence and asked what he was thinking about. He replied with a predictable “nothing,” to which Christine gave a sideways nod of her head, expecting an honest answer. He reluctantly explained his frustration at the lopsidedness of their time spent in Rome so far. Christine calmly looked at Bruno and said “dear, it’s just the first day. There will be plenty of time to do other things. And besides, a man should be happy to see his wife being happy, no?” Bruno agreed, somewhat unwillingly, but nodded in agreement nonetheless. He was more bothered by her demeanor than anything else.
Throughout lunch, with the wine flowing through them easily, Christine kept bringing up topics and subjects that not only caught Bruno off guard, but at times made him think he had made a major mistake. They were certainly not subjects that she had ever brought up before, and were not things that Bruno had ever associated with her. She first casually brought up the youth of Rome reminding her of the times in college when she would be extremely intoxicated and influenced by drugs, partying with guys she had never met before, each time presumably a different group. Bruno, stunned, asked what went on at these parties, to which Christine simply replied “what do you think?” He asked her how many people she slept with, fearing the worst, yet her answer still managed to surprise him. She replied with “men, or women?” One cannot imagine the thoughts going through Bruno’s head. The girl he though he had gotten to know for two years seemed to be somewhere else now, replaced with what he can only think of as some party whore. He was confused as to whether he should demonstrate his frustration or probe her longer to get more information out of her.
He chose the latter, and nervously asked what experiences she had in those days. She was very frank, and said she enjoyed both, and that each had it’s uniqueness. The women were more pleasing and more sensual, but roping in a man was more exciting. What really got Bruno’s attention was her last comment, that what was most fun of all, whether with men or women, was being the dominant one. Before Bruno could aske what she meant by “the dominant one,” Christine continued with her story, specifically about her time with three guys at once, all the while having a smile on her face as though she as recalling a fond memory. This was too much for Bruno, who despite the influx of the wine, was getting deeply upset at what he was uncovering. He stood up, said he could not tolerate this, and just walked out of the restaurant. Christine continued on with her lunch, as though nothing had happened, going on to order herself a delicious dessert. She then politely asked and paid for the bill, and walked outside.
It was now pouring outside, and in his hastily exit, Bruno had left the umbrella inside the restaurant. Thankfully, Christine had picked it up. She walked outside and saw Bruno standing about a hundred feet away under a shop’s awning, with an apologetic look on his face. She looked at him, ensuring eye contact was made, and then began to walk the other way. Pretty soon, Bruno came running up behind her, attempting to stop her , wishing to speak. Naturally, he was apologetic. Christine didn’t say a word, letting him speak in incoherent and confused terms, no doubt influenced by his strong emotional journey. To Christine, this was necessary, to have Bruno’s emotions exercised. She knew it would play well into her hands in the future, and that it was key that she begin gaining control over Bruno’s emotions. After he was done speaking, she simply said to him that “it was college, and it was a few years ago. We‘re here now.”
She then coldly told Bruno that she planned to continue her walk to the Trevi Fountain, and that he was welcome to come along, or go off on his own. Concerned that he would frustrate her more, and further bury himself, he chose to go with her to the fountain. From an entirely different perspective, Christine adjusted her strategy based on Bruno’s decision. She repeated the same steps from their previous walk, stopping at every shop, only now, she started to also buy a couple of items, and not necessarily inexpensive ones. Bruno, still feeling less than ideal for his previous behavior, didn’t say a word about her purchases, and without hesitation volunteered to hold the bags. Nevertheless, he didn’t quite know for how long and how far this shopping spree would go. So far, all of the items, and each costing a not insignificant sum, were strictly for her. Items that ranges from bath soaps, perfumes, jewelry, and clothing. She continued to shop at her heart’s content, while Bruno realized that with each purchase, it meant less was available for him to use for himself.
They soon reached the Trevi Fountain, and as it’s customary to do so, each threw a coin into it. They marveled at its beauty, and at the prowess of the Romans who managed to build such beautiful landmarks in a beautiful city. Christine was the first to speak, asking Bruno if he knew of the fountain’s origins. She described the fountain being built to symbolize the endpoint of the acquaduct, and took the artistic liberty to expand on that them by further commenting that “it demonstrates the end of one life, and the beginning of another. The flowing water has traveled a long way, changing it’s form from snow to liquid, then harvested and given direction by the duct, eventually leading it to this point, where it is now something obtainable and useful for the capable citizen.” Christine had that same smile on her face that had so thoroughly affected Bruno earlier in the day. He was now quite nervous on the inside, not knowing what other surprises she had for him.
Returning to the hotel, they rested for a bit and then decided to set out for dinner. Christine told Bruno that she would like to have an hour alone to roam some nearby shops, and that they would meet at their selected restaurant for dinner. Down the steps they went, and as Bruno was nearing his way out the door, he noticed Christine chatting and smiling with the receptionist as she handed him the hotel key. It was customary to drop the key off while leaving. Bruno shrugged it off and went on his way, enjoying the liberty of not having Christine leading him. It was no longer raining, and it was relaxing to walk the streets. There were so many beautiful women, it was almost a relief that his wife wasn’t there to catch him staring. Knowing how much Christine had already spent, he chose not buy anything, but rather to just walk and relax a bit.
An hour later, they met for dinner, and Christine seemed to be back in her pre marriage ways. She had gone shopping again, but this time around, she was pleasant, humorous, and talked about how beautiful Rome was and how much she was enjoying the trip. Her tone was friendly and inviting. This put Bruno at ease, as he could see things slowly returning to normal. It must have been all of the stress related to the wedding, he thought. Christine had fretted over every last detail while he simply had just shown up on the big day. Surely, she must be mentally exhausted and today’s earlier antics where just a result of that.
After dinner, Christine was quite playful, rubbing her hand over Bruno’s arm, holding his hand as they walked. She smiling said “why don’t we go back to our room and have some fun?” Bruno smile from ear to ear, stared down at Chrstine, and started walking towards their hotel. Christine went to pick up the key from the receptionist while Bruno waited at the foot of the staircase. He noticed Christine was again conversing with the receptionist, but nothing could take his attention off of making love to his beautiful wife.
They entered the room, and she playfully asked him to get her perfume from her suitcase. As he went about looking for it, she entered the bathroom and quickly freshened up. As she came out, he saw Bruno still looking for the perfume, just as she had expected. The perfume wasn’t there; it never was, and she knew that. It was just a stall tactic. She made her way to the bed and sat at the edge, facing the window with its cyrtains shut closed, and just stared at Bruno while he opened yet another compartment on the suitcase. She very commandingly, and in a very direct, yet clearly enunciated tone, said “stop!” This caught Bruno off guard, almost making him think that someone else had entered the room. As he was about to say that he couldn’t find the perfume, in that same tone, she said “come over here,” while she motioned to him to come over with her right index finger, her red nail polish glowing in Bruno’s eyes.
He could only mutter “yes,” confused and anxious as he was, as he walked over to her. She had him stand in front of her for a moment, before she said anything else. She then pointed to a shopping bag, the same one she had with her at dinner. Once again, enunciating clearly and in a strict tone, she said “bring me that bag.” He obliged, not knowing what was going on, but at the same time curious to find out. As he grabbed the bag, and returned, she motioned him to place it on the floor, near her. She stared at him for a minute, and then bluntly and coldly said, “I am now going to spank you,” and gave Bruno time to digest it.
Bruno, turning red in embarrassment, didn’t say anything. He was feeling quite turned on by this, much to his surprise, but was at once also concerned. What if he enjoyed it, what would that mean? Would it mean anything? Would it mean everything? Was it just sex, or something more? He quickly came to the conclusion that it’s just sex. He had experience light bondage before with an ex-girlfriend, and had heard that some women might go even further, as it added spice to their sex lives. He looked at her, and nodded with approval. Christine quickly and sternly spoke up and said “I did not ask for your approval. I don’t care for your approval. I will spank you!” With that, she gave him a couple of slaps on his butt, which caught Bruno off guard. She quickly motioned him over her knees, and shifted him around until his weight was properly over her knee, and she could position his left hand behind her back, and her right hand behind her left arm.
The strokes came gently but frequently. The frequency then slowed, but the severity increased. After a few minutes, she reached over him and unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them down to his ankles, and began spanking him through his briefs. He could now feel her strength and the strokes were beginning to really hurt. Not knowing what to expect, and what to do, Bruno just stayed put and took the pain. After a few minutes, Christine stopped and began to caress his ass, over his briefs. She then broke the silence of the preceding minutes and said “now then, do you know what you have done to deserve this, sweetheart?” Surely she must be upset at his behavior earlier today, though Bruno. He replied with “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier today.” A laughter started in Christine. “My love, your behavior this morning was quite typical for a man, and both anticipated and expected. You will soon understand what this spanking is for.”
Confused, Bruno asked what she meant by anticipated and expected. “Simple,” replied Christine. “Men are quite predictable emotionally. I knew from the start that if I took charge, you would react as you did. And guess what? You did! You saw your dominance being challenged, and you couldn’t fight back for it intellectually and effectively. Instead, you basically cried and yelled like an uncivilized and immature person. Is that what you are? Did I marry someone who can‘t communicate without whining and crying like a spoiled bitch?” “No! No!” shouted Bruno. An immediate and powerful two strokes caught him off guard. “Do not raise your voice at me! Ever! When I want to hear you speak, I will let-you-know! Is that clear?” stated Christine.
Bruno, now both aroused and hurt, was immensely confused emotionally. If this was role play on the part of Christine, in his opinion, it had gone too far. “Honey, look, I don’t mind the spanking, but can you tone down the name calling, please” he asked gently. Unfortunately, from his humiliating position, he couldn’t see Christine’s face, as she was smiling, with the type of smile that only the holder of a winning hand can have. “Sweetheart,” she said, “if you think this is some kind of role play, you are sadly mistaken. Trust me, your life is going to become more meaningful, more purposeful, more enjoyable, and healthier. And you will thank me for it later.” She then proceeded to pull his briefs to his ankles, exposing his now pink ass. The next set of strokes were extremely hard.
She continued to spank Bruno’s bare ass, with strong, even strokes, until it was a nice glowing red. With Bruno on the verge of tears, she stopped and began caressing his bare ass, telling Bruno how this was the best thing for him, that it would make his life immensely better, in every way. She then reached into the shopping bag and pulled out an object. “Do you know what this is?” she rhetorically asked Bruno? “It’s an antique wooden hairbrush,” she continued on. “Guess what it’s for,” she said almost laughing out loud, as she then proceeded to spank him with the heavy hairbrush. “They don’t make them this way anymore,” pondered Christine. “You can feel the heft and solidity of the wood on these antique models,” she continued on to say.
Soon after being exposed to the damage the wooden hairbrush can cause, Bruno was literally and figuratively in tears. He was in physical pain, as his ass was now bruised enough and on the verge of bleeding. He was tremendously confused, as he realized that this was certainly no role play. However, what really frightened him and put him over the edge was his own realization that he was allowing this to take place. He was allowing Christine to become the dominant in their relationship, and was letting her bruise his ass and his ego. How could he let this happen? He was so aggressive at work, and was known for being a driven, strong, and demanding individual. He was the young stud everyone at work envied. A winner by all accounts. But here he was, his bare ass exposed, on his wife’s lap, getting spanked. He had been absolutely manipulated by her. Each of her previous actions were now evident for being precisely calculated moves, in an attempt to get him to react in a certain way. She had worked him over mentally, and had done it in quite the subtle way. He was mesmerized by her ability and achievement. She was smarter and more clever than him, and he realized he had been defeated. As is popular to say these days, he was getting “owned“. Except in Bruno’s case, he was literally getting owned These feelings brought out a feeling of absolute humiliation in Bruno.
His face was now almost as red as his bottom. The strong smack of the hairbrush brought him back to his present situation. His ass was now literally bleeding, so bad were the bruises. Christine had ensured that her first spanking of Bruno would be severe, so as to avoid any confusion from Bruno that this was merely some form of sexual satisfaction. This was meant to be her ascension to the role of sole leader in their marriage. This spanking was to put Bruno in his place, and to make certain that he never challenged her authority, in any condition. Any decision, even those affecting Bruno directly, would have to be cleared and approved by Christine. Total dominance is what she was after, and she was going to make sure that this spanking would be powerful enough to have that affect.
To leave her mark and achieve her goal of true dominance in their relationship, Christine went beyond where she may have normally stopped and truly bruised Bruno’s bottom. He was balling and screaming, to the point where she had to give him a pillow to bite on to suppress the noise. After what seemed like an eternity for Bruno, Christine stopped, and began to caress his back and pet his hair. She looked at his bottom and satisfyingly said, “how nice. Black and blue, my favorite colors.“ She continued on, whispering “it’s ok love, it’s ok. You will thank me later, and you will be happy. It’s ok. It’s going to be all right.” She then changed her tone to a slightly strict one, but less so than before, and ordered Bruno to stand up. She then asked him to walk to the corner, and ordered him to stand there. “This will give you the time needed to reflect on what happened, what it means, and how your future is impacted. Do not touch your bottom, or any other part. If I catch you touching anything, or even looking over your shoulder, I will spank you again using the hairbrush, and won’t care if I bruise you to the bone. Stand there, hands to your sides, staring at the wall. If you think I’m not serious, just try me. I have a zero tolerance policy, so test it at your own will. Remain there for precisely one hour.”
Christine then proceeded to the bathroom and took a shower. The spanking had given her quite a workout. Meanwhile, Bruno was just destroyed, in every sense. He was physically, emotionally, and mentally taken advantage of, by his wife of all people. He was humiliated, ashamed, confused, and aroused all at one. She came out of the shower, and found Bruno exactly where she had left him. He was too frightened to even speak with her. She knew that she had succeeded and achieved her goal..
Bruno can sense that she was out of the shower, though he did not dare to even try to look. He then sensed her putting on some clothes and nearing the window. She was fiddling with something, but he couldn’t determine what with. She then casually said “I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to take care of. You still have half an hour.” She came back after twenty minutes, and walked over to Bruno. She put her head near his shoulder, and he could smell her. She smelled so good, like she always did. He began to tilt his head towards her, but she quickly reminded him that he was to remain still for another ten minutes. She then brought her right hand up , near the end of Bruno’s peripheral vision. He could see it was a small black object, but otherwise, couldn’t make a determination as to what it was. “Do you know what this is?” she asked? “It’s ok, you can tilt your head to see it.” As Bruno tilted his head, he noticed that she was holding a small camcorder. “Yes”, he gulped, worryingly. “That’s right,” said Christine, “it’s a camcorder. It’s my camcorder, that I gave to the receptionist and asked him to set it up for me. It was right at the base of the window, and it captured e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g that took place tonight. I just took it downstairs and played the video for the receptionist. He was quite amused,” she continued, smiling. “I then took the memory card out and mailed it to a secret address. So, honey, if you ever change your mind about things, disappoint me in any way, or go astray, be assured that video will make its way to your family, friends, and coworkers.”
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