Chapter 22
Heather
My hands trembled as I set the plates down, the careful presentation I’d worked so hard on suddenly seeming insignificant. The plug shifted inside me as I bent to place his dinner in front of him, sending a jolt of sensation through my core that made me gasp softly.
“I said kneel,” Ryan repeated, his eyes finally meeting mine with an intensity that made my knees weak.
I sank down beside his chair, the cool hardwood floor against my bare knees a vivid indication of my new position.
The apron rode up as I settled into place, and I felt completely exposed despite the thin cotton covering my front.
The plug pressed deeper as I adjusted my posture, making me whimper quietly.
“Good girl,” Ryan murmured, his hand settling on top of my head as he began to cut his chicken. “This is how you’ll eat dinner from now on when we’re alone. At my feet, waiting for me to feed you.”
I stared up at him in shock, my mouth falling open. “You’re going to… feed me?”
“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asked mildly, not even pausing as he cut.
I shook my head quickly, my face burning with shame. The casual way he’d established this new dynamic—me naked and kneeling while he remained fully clothed and seated—sent contradictory impulses of humiliation and need through my body.
Ryan took a bite of the chicken, chewing thoughtfully. “This is excellent,” he said with genuine appreciation. “Much better than usual. I think the plug is helping you focus on your wifely duties.”
The praise made my chest swell with unexpected pride, even as his crude observation about the plug made me squirm on my knees. I had put more care into tonight’s dinner than any meal I’d prepared before, desperate to please him in this new dynamic he’d established.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded, cutting a small piece of chicken and holding it on his fork.
I parted my lips obediently, allowing him to place the morsel on my tongue.
The intimacy of being hand-fed like this felt overwhelming—in a certain way even more degrading than anything we’d done at the facility, yet more tender too.
This represented a very different kind of training.
It seemed to establish the beginnings of a set daily rhythm for our new relationship, as degrading as it would probably seem to anyone watching.
“Chew slowly,” Ryan instructed, his fingers stroking through my hair as I obeyed. “Savor it. You worked hard to make this meal perfect for me.”
I nodded, tears pricking at my eyes from the gentle praise. This was what I’d wanted without even knowing it—to be owned completely, to serve a man worthy of my submission.
The main course seemed to pass quickly. I cleared the plates, and brought Ryan strawberry ice cream for dessert.
“Come here,” Ryan said, pushing his chair back slightly from the table. He patted his thigh with his free hand while holding the bowl of ice cream in the other. “Sit on my lap while I have dessert.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as I rose on unsteady legs, the plug shifting inside me with every movement. The idea of sitting on his lap while naked except for the thin apron felt overwhelming, but I couldn’t deny the heat building in my core at his casual command.
I settled onto his strong thigh, gasping as the position drove the metal plug deeper into my bottom. Ryan’s arm came around my waist, holding me securely against him while he scooped up a spoonful of ice cream.
“Open,” he murmured, bringing the cold dessert to my lips.
I parted my mouth obediently, shivering as the strawberry sweetness hit my tongue. But it wasn’t just the temperature that made me tremble—it was the intimacy of being held like this, fed like a cherished pet while the plug reminded me constantly of my submission.
“Good girl,” he praised, taking a bite for himself before offering me another spoonful. “You’re learning your place so well.”
Each time he fed me, his other hand would stroke my bare thigh or trace patterns on my exposed hip. The gentle touches combined with the constant pressure of the plug were driving me toward a state of desperate arousal that left me squirming on his lap.
“Stay still,” Ryan commanded when I shifted restlessly. “Unless you want me to add more discipline to your evening.”
I forced myself to remain motionless even as every nerve ending screamed for more contact. The way he could control my responses with just his voice sent electricity through my core, and I felt myself growing embarrassingly wet against his leg.
When the ice cream was half finished, Ryan set the bowl aside.
“On your knees,” he said simply, spreading his legs wider in the chair.
I sank down between his thighs without hesitation, my body moving of its own accord as he began to unfasten his belt. The sound of leather sliding through loops made me shiver with anticipation and shame in equal measure.
“Show me what you learned at the facility,” Ryan commanded, freeing his massive cock from his pants. “Worship it properly while I finish my dessert.”
I leaned forward eagerly, my tongue extending to lap at the broad head of his shaft.
The familiar taste and scent of him filled my senses as I worked my mouth along his length trying to please him.
Above me I could hear him picking up his spoon again, the soft clink of metal against ceramic as he resumed eating his ice cream.
The casual way he enjoyed his dessert while I serviced him sent shameful heat flooding through my core.
“Deeper,” he murmured around another spoonful, his free hand tangling in my hair to guide my movements. “Show me how grateful you are for your training.”
I relaxed my throat the way Chad had taught me, and Master Paul had reinforced, taking him as deep as I could manage while the plug pressed relentlessly inside my bottom.
The image in my mind’s eye, of me kneeling almost naked between my husband’s legs while he casually ate dessert, sent shameful arousal surging into my core.
My left hand found its way between my thighs almost without conscious thought, my fingers seeking the wetness that had been building since he’d made me strip. I needed relief desperately, needed to ease the aching tension that threatened to consume me completely.
“Stop.” Ryan’s voice cut through my desperate haze like a whip crack. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling me back slightly. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
I whimpered around his cock, my hand freezing between my legs as shame flooded through me. Of course I wasn’t allowed to pleasure myself—my body belonged to him now, to use as he saw fit. The realization that I couldn’t even seek my own relief without his permission made my face burn.
“Hands behind your back,” he commanded firmly. “Your pussy will feel good when I decide you’ve earned it, not before.”
I clasped my trembling hands behind me, the position forcing me to rely entirely on my mouth and throat to please him. The plug shifted as I adjusted my posture, sending jolts of sensation through my already overwhelmed nervous system.
“Better,” Ryan murmured, taking another spoonful of ice cream while I worked desperately to bring him pleasure. “My ass girl needs to learn patience.”
I redoubled my efforts, using every technique I’d been taught to worship his massive shaft.
My tongue swirled around his head, my lips sealed tightly around his girth as I bobbed my head with increasing desperation.
Above me, I could hear him finishing his dessert with maddening calm, as if my eager servicing was simply background entertainment.
When I felt his cock begin to pulse against my tongue, signaling his approaching climax, excitement flooded through me. Finally, I would taste his release, would receive the reward for my devoted service.
But Ryan’s hand suddenly gripped my hair, pulling me off his shaft just as I sensed he was about to explode. I gasped for air, staring up at him with confusion and desperate need.
“The dishes need to be washed,” he said matter-of-factly, tucking himself back into his pants. “Go take care of them now.”
I stared at him in shock, my mouth still tingling from his use. “But sir,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, “weren’t you about to—”
“Were you going to question my decision?” he asked, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that made my stomach clench with fear and arousal.
“No, sir,” I said quickly, scrambling to my feet on unsteady legs. “I’ll do the dishes right away.”
The walk to the kitchen felt endless, each step sending the plug deeper into my bottom while my body ached with unfulfilled need.
My hands shook as I filled the sink with hot, soapy water, the mundane task feeling surreal after what had just happened.
I could still taste Ryan on my tongue, could still feel the phantom pressure of his hand in my hair as he’d denied me the completion I’d been working toward.
I washed each dish with trembling fingers, hyperaware of how the apron barely covered my nakedness, how the plug made every movement a reminder of my submission.
My pussy throbbed with desperate need, and I found myself pressing my thighs together as I worked, seeking any relief from the aching tension.
When the last plate was dried and put away, I turned to find Ryan standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me with those intense blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to my soul.
“Follow me,” he said simply, turning toward the hallway.
I walked behind him on unsteady legs, the plug shifting with each step as we made our way to our bedroom. Our bedroom, where everything had changed between us just days ago, where I’d faked so many responses while craving exactly what he was giving me now.
“Stand here,” Ryan commanded, positioning me in front of the full-length mirror that hung on our closet door. I blinked at him, frowning, then looked in the mirror. I swallowed hard as I saw myself, clad in nothing but the apron, my hair disheveled and my eye makeup smudged.
“No,” Ryan said. “Turn around and look at the mirror over your shoulder.”
My cheeks filled with heat as I understood what my husband wanted me to see.
I turned around as he commanded, my breath catching in my throat as I saw my reflection over my shoulder.
The emerald jewel of the butt plug caught the bedroom light, sparkling obscenely between my spread cheeks as Ryan pressed on my shoulders, to bend me slightly and give me a better view of the lewd reflection.
The sight of the jewel nestled so intimately in my bottom made my face burn with shame, but I couldn’t look away.
“Beautiful,” Ryan murmured. His warm hands settled on my hips, holding me in position as we both stared at my reflection. “Do you see how perfectly it suits your little butt? How it marks you as mine?”
I whimpered softly, unable to deny how the jeweled plug looked nestled between my cheeks. It was elegant and degrading at the same time, a marker of my submission that would stay with me until he decided to remove it.
“The welts from your paddling are very pretty,” Ryan observed, his fingers tracing the fading marks across my bottom. I gasped at the contact, my skin still tender from the thorough discipline he’d given me at the facility. “But I’m sure you’ll need fresh ones soon. To remind you of your place.”
His touch became more possessive as he explored my marked flesh, his palms cupping and squeezing while I watched in the mirror. He fondled me casually, as if my body were simply his property to examine.
“I have so many plans for this perfect ass,” he continued, his voice thick with authority as his fingers traced around the base of the plug.
“I’m going to train you to take bigger toys, to stay plugged for longer periods.
By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be able to accommodate anything I choose to put inside you. ”
I sobbed softly at his words, my reflection showing a woman completely owned and claimed. The apron barely covered my front while my plugged bottom was fully displayed, my face flushed with shame and unwanted arousal.
“And this sweet little pussy,” Ryan said, one hand moving between my thighs to cup my dripping sex, “is going to learn to come on command. No more faking, no more pretending. Just honest responses to your husband’s touch.”
His fingers explored my wetness with confident strokes, and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my lips. In the mirror, I could see how wanton I looked—bent over slightly with my husband’s hands claiming every intimate part of me while the jeweled plug sparkled between my cheeks.
“Please,” I whimpered, my hips bucking involuntarily against his touch. “Please, sir, I need—”
“You need what I give you, when I give it to you,” Ryan interrupted firmly, his fingers stilling against my aching flesh. “Now take out your plug and wash it. Then it’s time for bed.”