Page 7 of Her Shameful Wedding Night (Corporate Correction)

Bradley noticed now that the belt had additional Velcro loops, into the right one of which the nurse, still working with one hand, placed Zoe’s gently resisting right wrist and fastened the Velcro. The nurse’s hand reached for the bride’s left wrist then, but Zoe lifted it up and pulled it away, the little fist clenched.

Then at last the nurse looked into Zoe’s eyes again. The whole process of nearly immobilizing the naked girl on the exam chair had taken three seconds at most.

“It’s important that a bride not interfere with this part of the exam, honey,” she said. “Your responses so far tell me that you’re a good candidate for the program, which means that I have the right and the duty to complete the exam despite how embarrassing or uncomfortable it is for you. Put your hand in the cuff, please.”

“But... you can’t. I mean... can I call... can I call Bradley, please?”

“We’re not going to disturb him with this, Zoe. I’m already going to have to make a note that you didn’t comply fully when I restrained you for your own safety, and recommend that he discipline you.”

“Discipline me?” Zoe’s jaw went slack with alarm and amazement. Bradley’s own lips had parted, as if to utter his own word of protest, but the expression on Zoe’s face stopped his first intent, which had been to call the clinic himself and demand that they let Zoe go. His fiancée’s eyes had horror in them, and panic, but they also had something else—something unmistakable: recognition.

Relief, even.Zoe’s hand had lowered, the fist opened.

“He’ll decide what that means,” the nurse said. “And he’ll discuss it with you. But a traditional marriage, according to this program, means a marriage with a discipline plan drawn up by the husband and discussed with the wife. I’d be surprised if Bradley didn’t discuss it with you tonight, when he reads my report. Now as I said I don’t want to have to recommend anything specific, but I will if I must. For a girl who refuses to comply, I generally advise a lengthy session with a paddle or a punishment strap—whichever the husband has chosen for her correction.”

Zoe froze, her mouth open, and the nurse took the opportunity to reach calmly out, take her left wrist, and secure it at her side.

Bradley, for his part, had listened half in surprise at the nurse’s words and half in astonishment at his fiancée’s reaction. Zoe’s hips, now restrained in the webbing belt, had moved again, her bottom’s squirming discernible on the video feed, to the side of the nurse’s form. His initially shocked reaction to the idea of meting out corporal punishment to his innocent bride gave way to another, deeper instinct telling him that the idea of traditional marriage, of guiding her with a firm hand, had appealed to him for a reason.

Looking back on the information the state had provided, he could see that though no explicit mention had been made of a paddle or a strap, the implication had come through pretty clearly. Now, with what seemed clear evidence of his bride’s helpless response to the idea, he began to understand how cleverly the state had designed the application process.

His eyes widened, though, at the next step the nurse took. The stirrups, too, had webbing straps, and it took only a moment for Zoe’s ankles to be made as secure as her wrists and waist, as the naked girl stared at her, jaw still lowered but with no sound coming out besides her rapid, panting breath. Then the nurse turned back and patted Zoe’s thigh. “Good girl. I can’t imagine Bradley will do more than put you over his knee for a little while.”

Zoe whimpered, and then the whimper became a tiny sob, because her hips had positively jerked against the restraining strap. Bradley, surprising himself a bit, had an urgent thought, even as he gave his hard cock another stroke through his pants.

Yes, Zo. You’re going to be over my knee tonight for a little while.

He picked up his handheld as the nurse sat down again on her stool, and to Bradley’s surprise pointed her own handheld straight at Zoe’s pussy. Zoe craned her head up, trying to see what the older woman meant to do.

“I’m going to make sure,” the nurse said to the intimate places of the bride’s beautiful body, “your husband has a thorough understanding of your needs.”

Suddenly the video feed on Bradley’s laptop changed to the view from the nurse’s handheld. He swallowed hard at the close-up view of Zoe’s virgin pussy and her cringing, wrinkly anus.

“Oh, no,” Zoe whispered.

Chapter Five

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