The evening sun was setting when Brent awoke to find himself sweating and tied to his marriage bed. He was naked, but for the ropes, and his muscles ached from the strain of his bonds. A ballgag effectively muffled his any screams for help, and Brent twisted his head, his voice a rough gargle deep in his throat.
“Oh good,” a feminine voice trilled. “You’re awake.”
A riffle of giggling swept the room, and shivers danced across Brent’s exposed flesh. Goosebumps dotted his skin, as though a cold breeze had crossed his nude body.
A woman in tight leather skirt, black hose and white blouse moved into his view. Brent twisted his head and canted his gaze upward. The long, red hair falling in soft curls to the woman’s shoulders told him that this was yet another lesson from his wife.
“To have a truly good husband,” the woman said over her shoulder, “requires discipline.”
Another round of embarrassed giggles alerted Brent that there was more than one woman in the room. He couldn’t twist his head far enough to be sure, but Brent suspected that his wife, Gloria, had invited her book club members to witness his punishment for today’s transgression.
Gloria tapped Bent’s buttocks with the tip of her thin, rattan cane. “My breakfast was late,” Gloria said, sharply rapping her husband’s ass again. “The coffee was lukewarm at best, and the eggs were too soft.”
Brent groaned into his gag and pleaded with his eyes.
“Discipline,” Gloria said to the unseen group of woman. “It’s what takes a beast, and makes him into a man.” Gloria raised the cane high into the air, well above her shoulder.
Brent heard the thin whistle as the rattan cut the air. He closed his eyes and bit sharply into the ballgag.
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