Chapter 23
Heather
My hands shook as I reached behind me, my fingers finding the jeweled base of the plug nestled between my burning cheeks. The cool metal felt foreign against my trembling fingertips as I tried to grip it properly. I closed my eyes, bit my lip.
“No,” Ryan said. “Keep looking in the mirror.”
A little sob escaped my chest as I obeyed, turning my face back over my shoulder to see my naked back, my paddled bottom framed by the apron, and the little jewel between my round cheeks… bent over, exposed, marked as property.
“Go on,” Ryan’s voice commanded from in front of me, patient but implacable. “Take it out.”
I whimpered as I began to pull, the sensation of the plug sliding against my tender flesh making me cry out despite my efforts to stay quiet.
The widest part stretched me again as it passed through the tight ring, and I sobbed at both the physical discomfort and the overwhelming shame of performing this degrading act while my husband watched.
“Oh, God,” I gasped as the plug finally slipped free, leaving me feeling hollow. My legs trembled so badly I could barely stand upright, the absence of the metal invader somehow more overwhelming than its presence had been.
“Good girl,” Ryan murmured, his tone, though soft, carrying a new tone of ownership that sent electricity through my nervous system. “Now go wash it in the bathroom sink. Use soap and hot water—I want it perfectly clean.”
I clutched the plug in my shaking hand, still warm from my body, the emerald catching the light as I stumbled toward our en-suite bathroom. Each step reminded me of how empty I felt now, how the plug had become part of me in the hours I’d worn it.
At the sink, I turned on the hot water and pumped soap into my palm, my face burning as I cleaned the intimate toy thoroughly.
The mundane act of washing felt surreal after everything that had happened—just hours ago I’d been lying to myself about who I really was, and now I was cleaning a butt plug in preparation for whatever my husband had planned next.
When I returned to the bedroom, Ryan was already undressing, his powerful frame revealed as he hung his shirt carefully in the closet. The sight of his massive cock, semi-erect and intimidating, made my breath catch in my throat.
“Put it on the nightstand,” he instructed, nodding toward the clean plug in my hand. “You’ll be wearing it again tomorrow.”
I set the jeweled toy down with trembling fingers, the knowledge that this would become part of my daily routine making my stomach clench with shameful anticipation. Tomorrow, and every day after, it seemed I would be plugged and primed for my husband’s use.
“Now take off that apron,” Ryan commanded, his eyes tracking my every movement as I untied the strings with shaking hands. “I have something else for you.”
The apron dropped to my feet, leaving me completely naked under Ryan’s intense gaze. My arms wanted to cover myself instinctively, but I forced them to remain at my sides, remembering his earlier commands about never hiding my body from him again.
Ryan moved to his dresser, opening the top drawer to retrieve something I couldn’t see.
When he turned back to me, I saw he was holding a small wrapped box, elegantly tied with a red ribbon.
My heart fluttered with confusion—after everything that had happened today, after being stripped and claimed so thoroughly, he was giving me a gift?
“This is for you,” Ryan said softly, his voice carrying a gentleness I hadn’t heard since we’d returned from the facility. “A present from your husband.”
My hands trembled as I accepted the box, the weight of it surprisingly light in my palms. “Sir, I… I don’t understand.”
“Open it,” he commanded, but there was warmth in his tone now, something that for a moment gave me the impression of the gentleman I thought I’d fallen in love with.
No, said a deep, calm voice inside me. You fell in love with all of him. It just took a few months to discover how much of him there is, and how badly you need it.
I untied the ribbon with shaking fingers, my heart hammering as I lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was the most beautiful nightgown I’d ever seen.
Sheer red silk that seemed to shimmer in the bedroom light, with intricate lace details that would leave almost nothing to the imagination.
It was elegant and scandalous at the same time, exactly the kind of lingerie I’d always secretly craved, but never dared to buy.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed, lifting the delicate fabric from the box. “Ryan, it’s gorgeous.”
“Put it on,” he said, his eyes soft as he watched my reaction. “I want to see how beautiful my wife looks in something that actually suits her.”
I slipped the nightgown over my head, the silk sliding against my skin like a caress.
It was barely there, the sheer fabric revealing more than it concealed, but somehow it made me feel more feminine and desirable than I ever had before.
The lace cupped my breasts perfectly while the flowing skirt barely covered my bottom.
“Perfect,” Ryan murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. “This is how you should look every night—beautiful, sensual, mine.”
He climbed into bed, pulling back the covers in invitation. I slid in beside him, gasping softly as he gathered me against his powerful chest. His arms came around me, holding me tightly, and for the first time since our wedding night, I felt truly safe in his embrace.
“I love you,” he whispered against my hair, his voice soft and sincere. “All of you, Heather. The parts you tried to hide, the needs you were ashamed of—I love every piece of who you really are.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks at his words. “I love you too,” I whispered back, my voice breaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about what I needed.”
“We’re past that now,” he murmured, his hands stroking my back through the silk. “No more lies, no more pretending. Just us, the way we should have been from the beginning.”
I fell asleep in his arms feeling more complete than I had in months, despite everything that had changed between us.
I woke to Ryan’s hands on my body, his palms sliding the silk nightgown up over my hips as he positioned himself behind me. I was still half-asleep, caught between dreams and reality, when I felt his massive cock pressing against my bottom.
“Good morning, ass girl,” he murmured against my ear, his voice thick with morning arousal. “Time to start your day properly.”
Before I could fully process what was happening, I felt the swollen head of his erection pressing against the still-sore ring. I moaned in mingled discomfort and mortifying arousal.
“Sir… please… no… not yet…”
“Shh…” my husband commanded. “Open for me.”
“Sir,” I gasped, my voice hoarse from sleep. “I’m not ready—”
“Your body must always be ready for me now,” he interrupted, his hands gripping my hips possessively. “That’s what good ass girls understand.”
“Oh… God…” I sobbed as his cock pushed more firmly. “Oh… sir…”
I cried out as I obeyed, feeling my bottom open that humiliating way, feeling his huge, rigid penis surge into me. I whimpered as the thrusting began, and I felt my ass open on Ryan’s manhood, full of his power.
He used me thoroughly, taking his time to establish his dominance before finally spilling himself deep inside me. When he pulled out, I felt his seed leaking from my stretched hole, marking me as his property from the very start of the day.
“Get up,” Ryan commanded, throwing back the covers. “Take off that nightgown and put in your plug. I’ll have breakfast in half an hour. Then you’ll do your chores naked except for the plug.”
I stared at him in confusion, my mind still foggy from being woken so abruptly. “You want me to clean… naked?”
“Did I stutter?” His voice carried that edge of authority that made my stomach clench. “From now on, all your housework gets done with nothing on. I want to see my property while you serve me. I took today off so we could start our new life with you having a full understanding of your duties.”
My face burned with shame as I pulled the beautiful nightgown over my head, leaving me completely bare in the morning light streaming through our bedroom windows.
The thought of doing mundane chores while naked felt overwhelming, but I could see from Ryan’s expression that arguing would only make things worse.
I reached for the plug on the nightstand with trembling fingers, the emerald jewel cold against my palm. My bottom still ached from Ryan’s morning claiming, his seed sticky between my thighs as I bent forward to position the metal toy against my tender opening.
“That’s it,” Ryan murmured, watching intently as I worked the plug past the tight ring. I whimpered as it settled into place, the familiar fullness making me feel owned and marked once again. “Perfect. Now you can put on your apron to make breakfast.”
Relief flooded through me at the small mercy. I tied the thin cotton around my waist, grateful for even this minimal covering as I padded barefoot to the kitchen. The plug shifted with every step as I pulled ingredients from the refrigerator.
I made Ryan’s eggs exactly the way he liked them—over easy with the yolks still runny, accompanied by thick-cut bacon and buttered toast. My hands shook slightly as I plated everything, hyperaware of how the apron barely covered my nakedness while the plug pressed insistently inside me.
“Sit,” Ryan commanded when I brought his plate to the dining room, gesturing to my usual chair, which he’d returned to its place at the table.
I lowered myself carefully onto the wooden seat, gasping softly as the plug drove deeper. The hard chair pressed the base against my bottom, making it impossible to forget what filled me as I picked at my own breakfast with nervous fingers.
“Eat properly,” Ryan instructed, cutting into his eggs. “You’ll need your strength for cleaning today.”