Disobedient Wife

My name, for the purposes of this story, is Debbie and at the time this took place I was 23 and Bill and I had been married for just on two years. We had always enjoyed a passionate but exclusive sex life and really enjoyed each other’s company. One thing that set us apart from other married couples we know is that Bill is old fashioned in his beliefs about marriage.

He insists that a wife should obey her husband in all things and I am happy to go along with that because, well, frankly, I quite enjoy having someone else make all the decisions so that I don’t have to take responsibility for what happens. I know this doesn’t fit in with modern views on marriage but my sister and I were raised by a disciplinarian father who always told us how to behave and had no hesitation in giving us a good spanking if we disobeyed (but never anything sexual – I don’t want to give the wrong idea) and so it was quite pleasant for me to find a husband who fit the same mould.

Anyway, during the first two years of the marriage, if I displeased him, Bill would discipline me with a little spanking. It was never vicious and became a kind of ritual, usually followed by fast and furious love making. On this particular day, however, Bill took the discipline to a whole new level.

I had been out with some girlfriends from work celebrating a birthday and Bill had told me to be home by midnight. Now normally I would obey his instructions but on this particular night I had a few drinks, lost track of time and did not get home until around 2.00am. Bill, of course, was waiting up for me and I expected that he would be furious but he simply said, in a calm voice, “Go to bed, sober up and I will think of a suitable punishment tomorrow.” I wasn’t too concerned, I expected that I would have to undergo the usual spanking ritual and all would be OK. I could not have been more wrong!

The next morning over breakfast Bill announced that my punishment would have to wait until the following Friday night. I was puzzled as to why he would want to wait but didn’t think too much about it until the Friday night came and Bill arrived with another man, whom he simply introduced as Fred, a work colleague, both carrying in what looked like a piece of furniture covered in a cloth.

“What’s that?” I asked. “Just a piece of furniture which will help you remember your duties as a wife” he replied as they set it down in the dining room. Now I was puzzled so I looked at him quizzically but he volunteered nothing I went over and pulled off the covering. At first I was even more puzzled – didn’t look like any piece of furniture I had ever seen. It was basically a vertical, T-shaped board with one large and two smaller velvet lined holes cut into it at about waist height and some kind of locking device. Then realization hit! It was a mediaeval “stock” like those they used to punish offenders hundreds of years ago.

“What kind of joke is this?” I yelled, as Bill unlocked the fastening and opened the top board, “There is no way you are getting me in those!”.

Then, so quickly I hardly had time to think, Fred grabbed my wrists from behind and pushed me towards the stocks while Bill grabbed my head and together they forced my head and hands into the cutouts and locked the bar in place. I am quite tall, lean and fairly strong for a woman but it happened so fast I had no time to resist two strong men.