After-Hours Escape

Disclaimer: These stories are a work of fiction. None of the events depicted have occurred as they are depicted. My wife and I do have a relationship that sometimes incorporates some ballbusting, but these stories are fantasy.

Chapter 8: Monday, Time in the Stocks

Monday after work we had to skip the traditional kicking, because we had dinner plans with my mother who was in town. While eating dinner, I dribbled a bit of soup onto my shirt. My wife saw it, and looked meaningfully into my eyes.

When we returned home, she announced that since I had marked my shirt, we were going to have to mark the balls that evening. So now I was locked firmly in the cock and ball stocks with a white knuckled grip on the top of them as she was caning my sensitive testicles with a medium wooden cane.

Casually, she says, "My sandwich was good tonight." thwack. The cane connects with my balls sack sending pain up my torso into my brain. I grunt, and she continues: "How was your soup?"

Thwack. Another collision between hardwood and soft testicles.

I grunt then reply: "It was fine..."

Thwack as I'm getting out the last word my balls are hurt, and I accidentally bite my tongue a bit.

She looks down at my punished and trapped genitals, and says: "There is a nice welt right across the middle of the right nut, I'm going to see if I can hit it."

Swoosh, this time I squeak as the pain reaches me. "Di.. did you hit it?" I stammer out.

Looking down, she says: "Nope. Not Quite."

Thwack, I see stars, and this one is followed by another cane stroke before I have a chance to recover. Thwack.

"You know wha.. What they say" Thwack, with each stroke, my body's animal instincts react, and try to pull me away, but my genitals are firmly in place in the stocks with my penis clamped flat against the surface so it doesn't get in the way and lessen the impact on my nuts.

"No, what do they say?" Swoosh.

"They say..." Thwap. "Ug.. That if at first you don't succeed" Swish. "Eh. Try, try again"

Thwack. She smiles warmly. Beaming with pride, she says, "Oh, I intended to."

Thwack, Thwack, Thwack. 3 hard strokes in quick succession leaves my head swimming, and I'm desperately clinging to the stocks with my hands to keep standing, but shaking on my feet from the abuse of my balls.

After a moment for me to regain myself, she resumes with workmanlike dedication. Thwack. Pause. Thwack. Pause. Thwack. I suffer silently for a time. I think to myself that by now, it's almost certain that my testicles are thoroughly marked, but it's not really for me to say, or even really call attention to it. So, I just struggle to enjoy the ride.

Thwack. "You know, I don't think you mom likes me very much." Swoosh, an extra hard one to punctuate her point and make sure I'm paying attention.

"Ug... No, that's not true.." Thwack. "Uh.. she likes you." Tap, because a hit on the bottom perimeter of my swollen ball sack slides off to hit the board that is holding my genitals in place.

Disapprovingly, my wife puts extra power behind the next one, which squarly connects with a sickening thwop on the center of my trapped nuts. The pain overcomes me, and I struggle uncontrollably, but undeterred, she continues the light hearted conversation. "No, I really don't think she cares for me."

Thwack. A less powerful blow, but I still haven't fully recovered from the one before it, and let out a moan.

I try to gather myself to reply, but she has become impatient, and let's my swollen orbs have another sickening collision with the cane. Swish.

"Pay Attention." she says. And punctuates it with another Thwack that causes me to desperately grip the genital stocks in an effort to keep my feet under me.

"S...sorry I stammer out". It's certainly hard to focus on a conversation with my wife when my already sore testicles are under constant assault, but that is why we train. So we can get better at such things.

I take a deep breath, and force out, "My mom likes you just fi..." Thwack "..ne". She stares at me for a time, and I take the opportunity to try to calm my shaking, and regain my poise. There is nothing I can do about the pulsing pain in my nuts, but I try to internalize the lesson that the testicular pain isn't important. The state of my swollen and bruised orbs is a happy thing, and not something to panic about.

My wife leans in. "If your mom likes me so much, why don't you call her and ask. That way we'll know for sure"

I knew immediately about the game. She is going to keep caning my nuts as I talk to my mom. It's a test of my focus and poise.

"OK." I say. "Would you be so kind as to hand me my phone?"

She grins and does as I've asked. Then she takes her position, measuring up my gonads for the next cane stroke. Just as I hit dial. Swoosh, and my balls are acquainted with the cane. As the phone rings, Thwack. A 2nd ring, and a 2nd thwack.

Then my mother answers. "Hello"

"Hi Mom" Thwap. I take a couple of deep breaths as she responds.

"Hi Son, sounds like you are working out".

"Yeah...." Swoosh. "Just taking care of a few things around the house." Thwack. There is silence on the phone which suits me fine as I'm able to recover for a bit.

I resume, "How'd you enjoy dinner with my wife and I?" Thwack.

"Oh, it was great to see you two." I glance meaningfully at my wife, and she responds with another stroke against my imprisoned orbs. My mom continues, "You two have such an interesting relationship." It's time for my wife to glance meaningfully back at me. "I never see the two of you fight, or even really argue."

Thwack. This blow is absorbed mainly by my left testicle, but it stings badly, and I think it might have drawn blood. "Yeah, we have our own way of working things out". My wife grins, and then gives me another stroke. Swish. I feel that one deep inside my gut.

My mom says, "I just hope she treats you well." I look up with a concerned expression, but rather than look back, my wife is in the process of a haymaker swing that plants itself squarely in the center of my gonads, and sends my head spinning so much that I drop the phone, and reach down to try to shield my nuts from additional abuse.

My wife hands me back the phone, and then prys my hand away. Shaking her finger in an admonishing way.

"Son. Are you ok." I hear as I shakily put the phone back to my ear.

"Yeah mom, sorry, I was taking care of some husband things, and dropped the phone. You know, chores and the like." Thwack, a merciful stroke that is accompanied by a wave of pain that I can handle easily thanks to my training. "Mom, I can assure you, my wife treats me better than I deserve." Swish. "She always encourages me to grow and improve." Thwack. "And each day with her is a new joy." Swish...smack. This one leaves a lingering sense of agony in my punished ball sack, and I'm rendered briefly speechless.

My mom is dutifully impressed, "That sounds great, son".

Thwack. "It really is mom." Swish. "I can't imagine anything better." Thwack, I can feel the love passing through the cane into my sensitive man parts moving all the way to my heart.

"Well mom, I best be going. Love you." Swoosh.

"Love you too, son" I mercifully hang up the phone before a Thwack that causes me to once again grip the stocks for support.

My wife is smiling. She says: "Good recovery there, you are so nice to me." and then punctuates it with a slashing stroke to my sensitive nut meat. Thwack.

"No..Not as nice... as... you... are... to me." With my test complete I've relaxed, and resumed shaking from the pain, and forming sentences has become a task.

She takes the compliment, and lets my balls have it one more time. Thwack. Then she says. "They look properly marked now."

I look down. My trapped testicles are badly swollen, which causes the skin to be pulled a little tighter than normal. My scrotum is mostly black from bruising on the side facing out, but it's angry red on the top and sides, and a small spot when the skin broke is oozing blood.. It's certainly not the worst state my balls have been in, but it's above average for us.

"Still there is the issue of you attempting to protect the balls from me." She affects a theatrical frown. "We will have to deal with that tomorrow, don't you think?"

I nod. Thankful that my gonads will be spared further punishment this evening. She sets me free, and I let out a sigh as my balls struggle to return to their normal position only to be stymied by their increased size, and the sore muscles that have been working overtime for the last hour desperate to retract my testicles, and spare them from the abuse.

My wife reaches forward to inspect them by feel. Then looks expectantly at me. "I love you." I say.

Her grip tightens to crush the sensitive man orbs, and says, "I love you, too."

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the story if you do leave a comment or a suggestion for a future story.