Chapter 38 #2
He takes his time playing with it, letting it flirt with my opening, then nudging it against my clit. My head is bowed, my humiliation intensifying, because I know what’s coming.
Inexorably, he slides it up, and up. Until it sits between the cheeks of my ass, right against my anus. I tense, but he gives me no mercy. The metal plug penetrates me, stretching me, drawing a gasp that turns into a whimper of shame as it slips inside.
It sits there, cold and hard and uncomfortable, a promise of what will follow.
Alex gives one cheek a demeaning little pat. “You know, it almost seems a shame to take your ass without warming it first…”
Fuck.
I didn’t think I could get any more aroused, but every word he speaks pours more oil on the flames.
And before I can find my voice, his comes again.
“…you did lie to me, after all.”
That provokes a response. “What? When? No, I didn’t.”
His hand leaves my body, then returns with his first sharp swat. I grit my teeth at the sting, but it’s mild. He’s just getting started.
“Construction company?” he reminds me.
I thought that was old news, and he was referring to something else. Clearly, it affected him more than I thought.
“Yeah, all right. Guilty.”
“Yes, you are.” He sounds amused. “Ass up, please.”
I obey with a whimper of shame. God, it’s such a demeaning position. My back arched, my hips lifted, my ass offered. Like an animal in heat.
The next spank is way harder. It drives me into the bed, the sting instant, but the burn takes a second to follow.
His hand strokes my warmed flesh, sending pleasant tingles through me. “You’re not going to lie to me again, are you?”
“No—” Another blow lands even as I’m still speaking. He timed it like that on purpose, the sadist.
I can’t help the soft cry that escapes, then the moan of frustration when I realize he hit the same cheek again. Why does he do this? What manner of twisted depravity occupies this man’s mind?
The left side of my ass is on fire, the right side tingles in sympathy. Which is more than I’ll get from him.
“Don’t you have something to say?” he asks.
What does he want to hear? That he’s being mean?
My delays costs me another spank, same cheek, damn him.
“I don’t know what you want…” It comes out in a rush, high-pitched and desperate.
Another spank, right over the last one, his palm curved for maximum effect. But this time his hand lingers, making my cry turn into a whine, his touch so good on my sore bottom.
“Try to think.”
I can’t think. “I’m sorry…” I meant for my lack of words, but it works for the lie, too.
“Yes, Tink. Apologize to me. Good girl.”
He rewards me by dipping his fingers down between legs tied open, finding my slick sex, and flicking over my clit.
My head presses into the sheet, my hips rising higher of their own accord, and the whimper that escapes is wanton and raw.
He spreads my wetness around. “Do you know how beautiful you look like that? Offering yourself to me, with a cute little jewel resting between your ass cheeks?”
Omigod.
It’s the collision of his dominance and my humiliation.
Then his finger pushes inside me.
I clench down. I can’t help myself. A few spanks, a few touches, the pull of his ropes on my skin, the plug in my ass, and I’m all but gone. Most of all, his words. He’s not just playing with me, he’s in my head. That’s what I have no defense against.
And I don’t want one, either.
“Tight little Tink,” he murmurs into my ear, and my whole body shudders.
Just like that. He always knows the right thing to say.
The worst thing to say.
That’s Alex, right there: he’s the worst.
His finger slips from within me and he wipes it on my spanked cheek. His weight leaves the bed, then there’s a rustle of clothing.
He has to be getting naked, and while I desperately want the press of his body against mine, is he going to take my ass so soon? The plug’s only just gone in. I’m not ready.
I’ll never be ready; not for this.
“Alex… please…”
“Are you begging me, or is this a protest?” he asks casually. “The former I’ll accept; the latter gets a gag.”
I press my lips together and bury my face against my arm.
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Thought so.”
Liquid drips onto my back. It’s warm, viscous, and oily, with a faint musky, floral hint.
Then his hands spread it over me. Every inch of my skin, unhurried, thorough.
His fingers run along my flanks, teasing the sides of my breasts.
A light touch down my spine, all the way to the top of my ass, then lower to tease the plug, twisting it inside me.
More oil, and he kneads it into my ass cheeks.
Each upward stroke spreads me wide—my ass, my pussy, all of me exposed to him.
“Such a delicious little cunt,” he says. “Who owns it?”
I can’t bring myself to answer that.
His hand smacks down on my right cheek, driving my breath from me. “I asked you a question.”
Yes, but if I don’t answer, he might even up the spanks.
But the next blow lands on my left side, on my already bruised ass.
Fuck!
And it hurts. “You do!” I gasp through the sting, then let out a pathetic little keening that I can’t control. I’ve just admitted his ownership of me. Not even all of me; just my pussy.
He owns the rest of me too. Heart, body and soul.
“That’s right,” he says quietly. “I do.” It’s a statement of fact, delivered with the same confidence with which he does everything else. “You’re mine, Tink. You’ll always be mine. There’s no escape, not from me. Accept it. Be my wife.”
I am his wife. We’re married.
It went by in such a surreal blur that only now, in this moment, does it sink in.
He’s my husband, I’m his wife, and our wedding night isn’t a wedding night. It’s a wedding afternoon, while the guests are still somewhere here, probably listening to every spank, every moan.
I suppose it makes up for the lack of a virginal red stain. It’s a bit late for that.
“I’ve been thinking of this for weeks,” he says, tone turning light and conspiratorial.
“Taking you for the first time, after we’re husband and wife.
” His fingers pull on the plug, the insistent sensation making it hard to focus on his words.
“But it was only this morning that I decided to make it your ass.”
So it didn’t matter what I said; he was always going to do this.
Bastard.
The plug comes out, stretching me as much as when it went in, drawing another gasp from me.
“Isn’t that funny?” he asks.
Oh, yes. Fucking hilarious.