The Stocks


The stocks had not been used in her village for many years. She had memories of seeing children pelting victim guilty of crimes with rotten vegetables but the custom had been replaced by strokes of the cane or birch administered by the blacksmith. This punishment was much more serious and a better deterrent against the theft and vandalism which had previously been a nuisance.

Her husband was the blacksmith and he spoke little to her about that side of his job, though he sometimes seemed agitated after administering the punishments - which were decided by a court of elders.

One day he had come home and told her that the elders had agreed to re-establish the stocks for less serious misdemeanours. She did not take much notice but did glance up when he told her that he had been given the task of building the new stocks and he intended to make them more solid than the old ones.

He was a skilled craftsman and took pride in all aspects of his labour - the stocks were no exception. When they were completed there was a small ceremony on the green and most of the village turned out to admire them and gossip about when and how they would be used. She had joined in the speculation and even gave her opinion that with padded holes for neck and wrists they might even be too comfortable to strike fear into wrongdoers.

It was ironic then that she should turn out to be the first to experience the sensation!

She hadn't meant to be bad. It wasn't something she thought of as wicked. She had been laughing and giggling with her closest friend when her husband passed close and heard some of the conversation. When he realised that they were discussing intimate details of their sex life and comparing men they had known in the past he was shocked and annoyed. Taking his wife by the scruff of her neck he told her harshly that she should be punished and took her immediately to the village hall.

The elders there were not often called upon to dispense their rulings but they were proud of their reputation for maintaining the respectable image of the village and had no hesitation in accepting that the blacksmith had a valid grievance and that his wife should be taught the error of her ways. They were divided though on whether he should be called upon to administer the cane to his own wife. In the end they agreed that this would be an ideal time to test the new stocks and she was sentenced to spend time in them. The exact ruling was that she should be fastened there from 6 in the evening until six in the morning - making her prey to whatever indignities the night brought.

She pleaded with the elders for mercy but they were inflexible.

She pleaded with her husband to stand guard and protect her, but he said that she must be taught good behaviour.

He paraded her through the village to the stocks on the green and fastened her securely. The leather padded wrist and neck holes were not themselves uncomfortable and the height was adjusted so that she was not forced to be on tiptoe - but she there was no doubt that she was confined helplessly and at the mercy of anyone who chose to insult or molest her.

For the first three hours it was light and her only suffering was the taunts of the village children who quickly learned this was their opportunity to cause discomfort to an adult. The taunts and the messy fruit that were hurled at her injured her pride but did her no real harm.

Later, when the young children of the village slept the older ones were more adventurous. Young men slapped her from behind while the girls mocked and laughed. She was thankful for the long skirt and petticoats that protected her from the force of their blows but she knew that it was not the pain but the indignity that was her punishment.

As the sun set and light faded most of them eventually got bored with their sport and wandered off one or two at a time leaving her increasingly isolated in the dusk. She listened as the noise of people grew distant and only the natural world still moved around her.

The scuffling on the ground was mice, rats and hedgehogs going about their business. Bats flew around her head swooping close to catch insects that flew upwards from the grass.

Left with her own thoughts she started to be aware of the practical discomfort and dangers of her situation. For one thing she had needed to pee for the last hour and the discomfort was soon going to be impossible to bear. The skirt which had protected her from the blows of the youths might hide some of her shame but the indignity of having to let the piss run down her thighs made her face burn just to think about it. Undoubtedly she would smell when they came to release her in the morning. In the meantime what manner of insects and animals would be drawn to her in the night? As she thought these things she felt the warm liquid seeping from her and she sobbed.

As it turned out though, this was the least of her problems. A group of women now wandered close and stood behind her. They were the lowest in the village who made a meagre income from allowing themselves to be used by those men of who either had no wives or had wives who wanted nothing of sex once they had borne children.

These women were vindictive and jealous of women like her with husbands and good homes. To find her trapped like this was an opportunity for them to give vent to their pent up anger. Throwing things and insulting her did not appease them for long and their creativity was both lewd and harsh. In the darkness they created tortures for her that she had not imagined.

At first her skirt and petticoats were lifted roughly over her waist. She felt their scorn as they mocked her for having wet legs and a puddle at her feet. Then she felt their hands on her.

The women were not gentle with her sexual places. They were accustomed to being used roughly by their customers and they were rough with her; slapping, pinching, prodding came first; then they took to using sticks from the ground to beat her buttocks and the backs and side of her thighs. Eventually one of them called a halt to the general torture and said she knew that this woman had been put there by her husband for sexual crimes and so she should have a sexual punishment.

The woman shuddered when she heard those words. She had been regretting her careless talk since the moment her husband had made the decision to take her before the elders and now she was shaking with a mixture of shame and helpless rage. What was going to happen to her? As the woman talked secretively and moved around behind her she had time to dread the punishment they were inventing. She remembered all the stories of sexual torture she had heard in her youth, the stories passed down by older friends that both excited ad scared them.

When it came she almost welcomed it. The dread had built in her and with it the frustration. She had found herself remembering all the things she had imagined as a youth: the initiation ceremonies she had both feared and longed for; the taking of her virginity by ruthless men intent only on their own pleasure; the invasion of their village by a band of rough warriors who had been starved of women and lusted after her; so many images and ideas had flooded back to her and she had found herself needing whatever lewd punishment they invented for her.

When it came she uttered a guttural moan.

When it came she shuddered.

It was a dildo - that was all she knew or cared about as it was thrust into her.

Afterwards she was surprised how easily it had entered her, how it had simply pushed and spread her to accommodate its bulk.

That was afterwards, when they held it in front of her and taunted her with how wet it was, how slippery; afterwards, when she had experienced the most amazing but involuntary orgasm while they pounded her with it. The shame and satisfied lust mixed in her but in the darkness nobody witnessed the blush of shame of the flush of excitement that made her face and neck burn.

Her legs were still trembling and twitching when the women finished mocking her. They had seemed genuinely shocked when they saw and heard the sexual pleasure she was getting from their torture. Instead of tears and pleadings for an end to their abuse of her, they had listened to gasps and groans as the sensations from her body mixed with the images in her head and built to a crescendo she had not experienced for years.

Disappointed and puzzled, they started to lose interest in tormenting her. It was as if she had won the battle and therefore they took no pleasure in harming her further. They drifted away in twos and threes until only one remained. The last woman to leave stood behind her and ran a soft hand slowly over her buttocks and thighs, seeming to wish that she could share the sensuality of her victim. Then the hand was lifted and four sharp, stinging slaps fell on her arse cheeks. Somehow it didn't surprise her that the slaps felt good. Her body glowed and she felt proud that she had taken everything and used it to feel good about herself.

Alone but now unafraid, she closed her eyes in the darkness and somehow slept.

She dreamed of her husband. In her dreams it was his hand that slapped her and his cock that invaded her body roughly. She dreamed of his hands on her, stroking gently, holding firmly, on her back, her belly, her breasts and her thighs. In her dreams she was moving as he thrust into her, pushing deep and then slipping slowly from her. She clenched to try and keep him in and felt emptiness as he withdrew, but then elation as he filled her again. She moaned as he fucked her.

She heard herself moaning as she woke!

Still in the stocks she was being fucked. A man was gripping her waist and pulling himself hard against her, penetrating her over and over.

Her first reaction was panic. Shock and fear ran through her mind but her body was aroused. She felt confusion as she remembered the dream and fought to reject the sensations that were now building in her body. She was helpless though - she was on the verge of another guilty, shameful, amazing, shuddering orgasm when she realised.

"It's you? It is you! Please tell me it's you."

He spoke between each thrust.

"Yes, it's me.

I have been here all night ..

since the stocks were clamped.

You are still mine.

Give me your cum ..


That was the trigger she needed. He was in her, fucking her, holding her and had given her permission to enjoy it all.

She came long and hard, releasing cries of total relief and satisfaction and then groaning and sobbing as he thrust deep once more and flooded her with his cum.

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