Some people become sales assistants, nurses or medical assistants and then complain that they can’t live on their income. Others study sociology, German studies or political science and wonder why nobody needs their knowledge. But they don’t really care, because they actually want something completely different: they are looking for a man who will put up with them and finance a life that they could never afford on their own. This has always been the case and is no different today. The difference is that women used to know what they owed their husbands. And what they would face if they didn’t.

Are you a man and still believe that women today are emancipated, stand on their own two feet and are looking for independence? Then you should simply register with one of the major dating sites. After the tenth date at the latest, you’ll know that women are still what they were a thousand years ago: emotionally unstable creatures who are barely viable without a man. That’s why she seeks his strength and hopes to find protection from life’s challenges under his roof.

I dated a good 100 women a few years ago, so I think I have a pretty good idea. To say it up front: the great independent power woman was not among them. They obviously only exist in the colorful media world, where only female authors live out their dreams of emancipation. I did meet women who felt incredibly successful and independent. But one conversation over dinner was enough to leave you with an employee who could just about keep her head above water on her income. There were also some who thought they were a lottery win for every man just because they had nice tits and a nice ass to offer. But if you’ve had three failed relationships, you’re more likely to have a problematic character than to be a source of male pleasure.

However, most of the women who looked expectantly into my eyes across the table had very transparent motives. They simply wanted to know who I was and, above all, what I had so that they could then assess my worth. This type of woman seems to be particularly widespread. She usually has dozens of girlfriends to impress. And she’s had more love affairs than she can admit to in order not to be seen as a slut who does it for money and gifts.

Nevertheless, I was somehow particularly taken with the latter category. No, the woman for life was definitely not among them. But a woman who wants to take me to the cleaners makes me want to take her to the cleaners myself. Or rather, to really get to grips with her so that I can then do her in my own special way.

Ute

Ute was divorced and had two teenagers on her hands, which she always had to organize somehow so that she could be alone with me for a few hours. Ute was pretty staid and didn’t have much on her mind. But she was a handy creature with nice firm tits, not an ounce of fat on her body and a pretty little pussy, which she always presented to me carefully shaved. She obviously hadn’t had a man for a long time, because at least at the beginning of our love affair she was exceptionally horny for sex. An extensive fuck in the evening, the continuation the very next morning and another quickie in the afternoon formed the usual daily program at the weekend.

She didn’t like it when I occasionally gave her a slap on her little bottom. But that made it all the more appealing to me. She had once announced her arrival for Saturday morning, but didn’t show up until around midday. My elaborate breakfast was therefore a waste and I was pretty annoyed. To greet me, she threw her arms around my neck while a thousand excuses bubbled out of her. I greedily returned her kiss of reconciliation, grabbing her between the legs from behind and then clutching both buttocks to hold her tightly against me. I knew she was wet, probably really wet, and that was exactly my intention.

When I let go of her, she took the first blow. It wasn’t a friendly slap, but a blow with the flat of my hand that hurt her. She also jumped forward with a squeal and was about to object when I reached into her jeans with my hand and pulled her straight into the bedroom. She did what women do when they don’t want something and still want it. She tried to wriggle out of my grip and play the big, reluctant scratching brush. But she ended up over the edge of the bed, had her jeans pulled tight like a little girl and received half a dozen severe blows to the part of her body that nature had specially designed for this.

Of course she protested vehemently and her words fluctuated between pleading and scolding. But sometimes a man has to do what his nature demands of him. So I turned her on her back, knelt over her with my legs apart and held her in this position while I undid her jeans. Pulling the blue fabric and panties off her was a piece of cake. She did try to escape from me while I took off my own pants, but I quickly caught her again, threw her onto the bed on her stomach, grabbed her by the hips and pulled her up to me.

Of course she tried to get away from me at first. But a few more slapping blows on her now exposed buttocks quickly proved her wrong and she willingly stretched her cunt out towards me. Willingly, not only because her bottom was burning like fire, but also because she was dripping wet.

The subsequent fuck quickly made her forget that she was supposed to be angry with me. I drove her to orgasm with relentless thrusts and only stopped when her screams became shriller and shriller. Then I squirted, pulled out of her and disappeared into the bathroom. It was now just before twelve and I went into the kitchen to at least prepare the planned lunch. Ute was a complete loser as a cook and therefore really appreciated my cooking skills, even though I only considered myself to be an amateur. At some point, the shower could be heard and a little later she was sitting silently in the living room, distracting herself with a magazine.

The meal passed in silence. But she stayed. She stayed overnight and snuggled up to me like a kitten until I kissed her on the cheeks and stroked her buttocks, which were probably still red.

From then on, she was punctual. She kept every agreement and something like a daily routine developed. Or rather, a weekly ritual that consisted of frequent text messages during the week and weekends spent together. After about six months, however, she started to get bitchy. There was always something that didn’t suit her. She kept canceling meetings because she said she couldn’t leave her kids alone and when we did meet up, there were often arguments over trivial things.

The really big scandal happened one Sunday afternoon and I knew it was high time to draw a line under it. I can put up with a woman as long as she’s a good fuck. But a constantly nagging wife is unbearable and my life is too good for constant arguments.

It is extremely important for women to be the ones to leave a man. So she went into a theatrical farewell and began to pack up the few belongings she had left with me. I watched her motionless while a plan took shape in my head. When she had reached the point of saying goodbye to me with a determined look on her face, I approached her. I grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and pushed her in front of me. Of course, we ended up in the bedroom. But this time I turned the key and pocketed it.

It was easy to undress her. I mean, undress her completely, because I needed her naked for what I was going to do to her. And I had everything ready. I tied her hands and secured them at some distance to two of the wooden bars that made up the head of the bed. As I said, it’s not difficult for a man to deal with a woman who is a good head shorter than he is. In the end, she lay on her stomach on the bed and presented me with her teasingly rounded little-girl bottom. I left her legs free because I wanted to give her the opportunity to react with her whole body to the blows she was about to receive.

I had never used the belt whip that I had ordered years ago from some online store. It was a very impressive specimen with an elaborately crafted handle. Attached to it were a dozen narrow leather straps a good meter long. In the Middle Ages, it was used to whip whores who were caught. In those days, families tended to use the rod, which was regularly used by the master of the house to keep both the children and the wife in line.

I placed the whip next to her on the bed, clearly visible. Then I proceeded to remove my clothes until I was naked and standing next to her with my cock erect, looking down at her exposed body. I was going to teach her a lesson she would remember for a lifetime. And I was going to give her a final fuck that would make her realize that she was little more than a cunt in heat that had been used by me and was now worn out.

One of Ute’s special features was that she acted like a little girl in bed. Even her voice changed and she played the prudish one who had to be uncovered first and whose nightgown had to be taken off while she was already wet and ready between her legs. Even now it was there again, the little girl who had been made naked and ready, waiting with a childlike expression on her face to see what would happen to her. She whimpered to herself as the first pleading words escaped her lips.

I had no intention of engaging in another battle of words with her. I wanted her to get her comeuppance, leave my house and disappear from my life. And I wanted her to remember me for a long time to come.

So I picked up the strap whip and lashed out. The hot hiss of the leather caused her to instinctively clench her ass cheeks and the impact of twelve leather straps on her defenseless house instantly triggered a scream like I had never heard from her before. She reared up and went into wild convulsions. The fact that she arched her bottom at me was only an advantage, because I instantly gave her a second blow, which caused exactly the same uncontrolled dance. She squirmed and it was obvious that her body was burning like fire. But I didn’t let up and gave her two, three, four more tight blows.

Then I put the whip back in the drawer from which I had taken it. I untied the violently sobbing woman, picked up her clothes scattered on the floor, left the room and locked her up. In the past, disobedient girls had always been locked up after being chastised. And I had treated my temporary lover Ute like a little disobedient girl and made her scream. Now she would have ample opportunity to lick her wounds before I said goodbye to her for good.

When I re-entered the bedroom, she was curled up on the bed, clutching her maltreated flesh with both hands. She seemed to be asleep. A naked woman with dozens of welts on her ass and thighs is not necessarily a pretty sight. But it gives its tormentor a deep sense of satisfaction. And it has been the result for thousands of years when a woman has defied her master and been put in her place by him.

I knelt on the bed, turned her onto her back, which she did without resistance, bent her legs and penetrated her. She let it happen in complete passivity and, to my surprise, was wet enough to pave the way for my cock to unfold to its full hardness. I fucked her one last time with all my hardness, pumped my juice into her with violent spasms and left her without a word. Then I threw her clothes on the bed and told her to get out as quickly as possible

Anke

She came from East Germany and, like all Ossi women, she was very materialistic and was actually looking for a really rich man. The last one she was totally into turned out to be married after more than a year and probably plunged her into a deep crisis. When I met her, she was visibly nervous, biting her fingernails and seemed anything but confident. That somehow made her likeable to me. I have a protective instinct towards small women and feel the need to take them by the hand and guide them through life. She seemed to be a simple girl, very pretty with striking breasts that stood out firm and large under her orange sweater. Under her jeans, I could make out a nice, tight butt that immediately set all my receptors on alert.

It was our third date and she had obviously felt the signal that she was due. At least she had a small travel bag with her, but she only got it out of the trunk of her Audi after we had spent the afternoon making out, groping and finally fucking in bed.

She turned out to be a really good fuck and seemed really keen to be taken properly and worked on from all sides. The only thing that bothered me was her thick black bush, which hardly allowed me to spend much time with her pussy. But after a few weeks the problem was solved and I had her naked the way I like women best. It happened on a rainy afternoon in her small penthouse apartment in Hamburg. She had laid down on the breakfast table with her legs apart and was probably expecting me to take her on the spot. Instead, I told her to stay like that because I wanted to shave her. She obviously found this arousing and so I set about removing her thick wool inch by inch and exposing her pussy. I triggered her first orgasm with my tongue as a reward, the second came when I worked her over with my all too willing cock.

She was one of those women who enjoy their climax rather quietly and only let out a soft moan while her whole body goes into a violent tremor. And she was anything but a prude and had no qualms about walking around my house naked for hours and enjoying the warm summer weather. The fact that she was sooner or later grabbed, kissed, licked and fucked by me seemed to suit her just fine. More than once we lay on the beach and I had my hand in her panties to work her over until her facial expression changed, her body tensed and lust took possession of her.

She seemed to really enjoy the occasional slap on her jeans-covered or bare bottom and enjoyed the fact that I was particularly interested in this part of her body.

However, she only found out what it means to be spanked properly the day she said goodbye to me.

She had probably continued to surf the internet while we were together and found a man who better suited her idea of real wealth. I don’t know what developed from that. But I met her by chance years later in Hamburg and she seemed to be single again. She seemed rather embarrassed when she met me and we both knew why.

She let me know in simple words that the time with me had been very nice, but that she had met another man who would probably suit her better. In other words, there was someone who probably promised her better chances of marketing her body to the highest bidder.

She wanted to give me one last kiss goodbye, but it turned out differently. I knew she was a bitch in heat and couldn’t resist my touch in the right place. So I kissed her with all my passion, slipped my right hand into the black linen trousers she was wearing that evening and worked her where no woman stays dry for long. She began to gasp imperceptibly and I knew that I had her in the palm of my hand. So we ended up in bed, she was naked in no time and …

… no, she wasn’t going to get off that easily. I didn’t continue what I had already triggered in her, but knelt over her with my legs apart while I slowly and effectively pulled the belt out of my pants. I folded it into a loop, turned her onto her stomach and pinned her body between my legs. I gave her the first two blows on her breasts, which stood up like two mounds. Of course, this immediately brought her body to life and she tried with all her might to free herself from me. I let it happen and watched with amusement as she tried to escape from me. Of course I had locked the front door and of course she wouldn’t dare run out into the street naked as she was. So I followed her and chased her around the house like a shy deer, taking every opportunity to give her willingly offered ass one welt after another.

At some point we ended up back in the bedroom. I threw her backwards onto the bed, got into position next to her, grabbed the back of her knees and bent her legs as far back as I could. Now her bottom was firm, round and more than ready for a good spanking. Her buttocks gaped wide apart and allowed a generous view of her round, rosy anus rosette. Her pussy also presented itself in its full splendor and revealed with an unmistakable glow that it had only just been brought to life by my fingers.

Of course, it was no trouble for a strong man like me to hold her in position with my left arm while I mercilessly beat her with my right. A woman in this position not only offers her chastiser her buttocks in full splendor and expanse. Her thighs are also defencelessly exposed to the leather’s bite. And I didn’t miss the opportunity to include the furrows of her pussy in the punishment.

I don’t know how many lashes she took that evening. I only know that I fucked her one last time and then left her to her own devices with her cunt dripping and her flesh burning.

I was sitting in the living room, had opened a good red wine and was watching the Sunday TV thriller when I heard the front door slam shut and a little later the headlights of her car appeared through the window. A chapter was closed. A woman had learned her lesson and I was free again for new experiences.

Mona

Mona was the kind of Berlin brat you read about in books: unpolished, uneducated and bordering on the antisocial. A child from a working-class background who had never really been brought up and who had never seen a father, let alone felt his punishing hand. But she seemed to be an independent woman, owned her own flower store and was involved in the animal welfare association. So a woman like that can’t be all wrong, I thought to myself, and suggested we visit her in the capital.

But Mona had other plans. She wanted to come to me in the country instead, even though it was a good three hours by car. So I agreed and invited her to spend a weekend with me by the sea.

A working-class environment also means a lack of education, a lack of manners, a lack of standards in every respect. Mona appeared in plain jeans and a red T-shirt with decorative sequins. And she had a little dog with her, who looked at me curiously. The first thing I did was forbid her to smoke in the house and invited her for a walk on the beach. After all, dog owners are used to going for walks.

I would certainly have looked approvingly at a girl like Mona on the street, because she was a very pretty sight. But I would probably never have thought of anything more. And yes, she looked like a young girl to me, even though she was actually approaching thirty. That was probably mainly due to the fact that she was just about shoulder length. But her whole appearance also somehow had nothing of an adult woman about it. Nevertheless, I quickly fell in love with her, secretly eyeing the bulges under her T-shirt and taking in her plump bottom, which was perfectly shaped by a pair of tight-fitting jeans. All her proportions seemed to be just right, even if her rather boyish behavior didn’t really match her feminine appearance.

Mona apparently had all the time in the world and wasn’t planning to stay just for the weekend. She was refreshingly uncomplicated and made me feel hopelessly grown-up, while she seemed more like a Lolita who had confided in an older man for some reason.

As midnight approached, I offered her my guest room and she immediately unpacked her trolley, the contents of which she spread generously throughout the room. She then asked me if I had a towel for her and disappeared into the bathroom to take a long shower. A little later she stood in the living room, stark naked as God had created her, and let me inspect her. Two tits that did quite well without a bra. A pronounced vulva with a completely hairless cunt that had probably only recently been waxed. Two firm buttocks that inevitably made my hands itch. A sight that no man can escape when there is still something stirring down there.

I excused myself and took a shower too. When I came back into the living room, I was wearing a robe, offered her a cool summer rosé and suggested we enjoy the balmy summer night on the terrace. She put on a thin shirt because it was probably a little too cool for her naked and snuggled up to me while she sipped her wine and chatted carefree about God and the world. My free left hand instinctively rested on the curve of her hip and felt its way over the velvety soft skin of her bare bottom. A beautiful little fruit, I thought to myself and suspected that I would be granted a good piece of educational work here.

Of course she noticed that my cock was reacting. And she didn’t hesitate to spontaneously take it in her mouth to deal with it with astonishing routine. I wonder how many cocks had already encircled those lips? How many men had she been fucked by? When I cleverly brought the conversation back to her past, however, she told me that there had only been three men in her life. Her very first great love had unfortunately moved to Munich to study and had soon forgotten her. The second man had wanted to marry her, but hadn’t done so because he was already married. Finally, the third man tried to force her into prostitution and had beaten her up several times until he ended up in prison for drug dealing.

So I was dealing with a young and rather naïve woman who had almost fallen into the wrong hands and was longing for protection and security.

I didn’t want to come in her mouth and withdrew from her before the point of no return was reached. Then I stood up, picked her up like a little girl and carried her into my bedroom without being asked. I suspected she had never expected anything else. I don’t know how many times we made love that night. I only know that she slept soundly the next morning while I cycled to the bakery to get bread rolls and prepared a sumptuous country breakfast. I gave her a light slap on her bare bottom to bring her from dream to day and she made her way to the bathroom with tenacious movements to shower off the traces of the night.

Mona was like a daughter who seemed to long for fatherly guidance and care. But there were also moments when she showed the grown-up woman in her, who had a very practical view of life and knew that you had to offer a man more than sex in the long run. So she made herself useful in my house without being asked, took care of the housework that no man likes to take time for, and quite naturally took on the role of wife, which she wasn’t in reality.

As the weeks went by, I also found out why she had no intention of returning to Berlin. Her flower store was practically bankrupt and it turned out that it had never actually made enough money to feed even one person. Her bank account was at the limit and there were probably more reminders in her letterbox at home than she wanted to admit. In other words, she was at the end of her financial rope and a man who took care of her completely was actually her only salvation.

I took her to Berlin, compiled her debts and filed for personal bankruptcy before some bailiff could put her on the wanted list, and got used to the idea of having a young thing in the house that I had to take care of. After all, it was a really pretty young thing who had an irrepressible appetite for sex and only had to show herself half-dressed to inevitably make my cock swell. I’ve probably never fucked as frequently and regularly in my life as I did during those months with Mona.

She had a bright mind and I soon entrusted her with my bookkeeping. She took care of my invoices and their payment, communicated with the tax consultant and kept away the reminders from the tax office that used to arrive in my letterbox every week. At some point, she had her own bank card and was more familiar with my accounts than I was.

A whole year passed before the first signs of alarm appeared. I was aware that a woman wants to be pretty and a pretty woman was definitely in my interest. So for a long time I had accepted without a word that she occasionally bought clothes, shoes and lingerie to complement her rather modest wardrobe. I had also watched in resignation as the clothes became more and more exclusive, the shopping trips to the city more and more frequent and the credit card bills higher and higher.

When I confronted her, there was a loud argument that somehow reminded me of a fight between a father and his adolescent daughter. She said defiantly that she was entitled to use my credit card for shopping. After all, she was working for me and I owed her far more than that. She even threatened to leave me if I continued to be so stingy. I had to listen to a lot that evening and I’m still surprised today that I didn’t react sooner. But at some point, the barrel was simply full and I had to make a statement.

„You want to leave me? Then don’t talk too long, just do it. Pack your things and get out. I don’t want to see you here anymore. Pack your bags right now and get out.“

With that, I retreated, made myself comfortable in my favorite armchair and holed myself up behind my laptop to watch YouTube videos. She was still playing the defiant teenager and started packing up her things with feigned determination. She went into the bathroom and put away all the tubes and bottles she had accumulated there. She dragged a suitcase into the living room and demonstratively began to stow one dress after another in it. She also added the house dress she had been wearing and from then on walked back and forth naked. She asked me if I had a second suitcase for her and I told her where she could find it. She staged her departure as dramatically as she could.

„I’ve blocked the credit cards, of course,“ I mentioned in passing, pretending that’s what I’d been doing with the notebook all along.

She stomped around the room with even more determination and packed the last of her belongings into her suitcase as noisily as possible. Meanwhile, I was becoming increasingly amused by the situation and enjoyed watching the hectic activity of a young woman who acted as if she wanted to leave the house immediately, but had strangely overlooked the fact that she was still completely naked while all her clothes were in her suitcase.

At some point, she reached the point where she could no longer keep up the whole game. Her movements became slower and slower and her actions increasingly pointless. Until she finally stood there with her head down, crying into herself.

I stood up. I took her in my arms and waited patiently until she had finished crying. Then I said calmly and firmly: „I’m going to punish you, Mona. Either you leave my house immediately or we go to the bedroom now and you get the spanking you deserve. So what is it, do you still want to leave?“

She had learned her lesson. She shook her head humbly. I took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. I closed the door and asked her to kneel in front of the bed. I gently grabbed her by the back of the neck and bent her head down until it touched the sheets. I let my gaze glide contentedly over the naked woman, whose bottom was now the highest part of her body and offered itself to me for punishment. I held her in position with my left hand and lashed out with my right. Loud slapping strokes filled the room. With each mark of my right hand on her bottom, her skin turned an angry red. She twitched with each blow that made her flesh vibrate. She squirmed under my grip, but maintained her position. Until a palpable heat emanated from her bottom and her whole midriff began to glow red.

Then I let go of her.

I leaned down to her and said: „I will take care of you, Mona. I will protect you and make you happy. But I will not tolerate you rebelling against me. If you act like a defiant teenager, I will treat you like a defiant teenager and if you do stupid things, I will make you pay for your stupid things. Do we understand each other?“

She nodded, as far as a nod was possible in her current posture.

„Then put your clothes back where they belong right now.“

She rose slowly and proceeded to carry out my order with slow movements. I sat back down in my chair and watched a young woman with a red bottom carry out what she had been told to do. When she had finished, I waved her over to me. I opened my housecoat and spread my legs. My cock clearly indicated what it wanted. She understood, knelt between my legs and enveloped my penis with her lips. Her tongue did what it was made to do. My cock became hard and harder and harder. I ejaculated into her and finally ended the process with a relaxed moan.

We never got married, but we led a life like husband and wife. Or perhaps like father and daughter. In any case, it was a constant interplay between love and punishment, between pleasure and pain, between dominance and submission. Between my fear that she would leave me and her fear that I would throw her out.