Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Good girl,” Rick said very softly. “Now what do you want?”
The three fingers turned a little, pressed in further. I cried out. I had a desperate, shameful longing.
“Sir, may I please touch myself?” I begged, the words coming out in a breathless rush.
I could hear the smile in Rick’s reply.
“Yes, you may,” he said.
With a whimper of discomfort, I thrust my right hand under my hip and down between my thighs, where the lacy thong lay askew. I gasped as I touched the smoothness of my bared pussy for the first time, and then I cried out as my fingers found my aching clit. I bucked over Rick’s thigh, rubbing frantically, the pain from my husband’s training in my bottom transmuted into overwhelming arousal and ecstatic pleasure.
“Oh, God… oh… sir, may I… may I… please…”
It felt so close, unbelievably close.
“No,” Rick said. “I’m disciplining you. You’ll come with my cock in your ass, but not before.”
I felt my face scrunch up into a pout of abject disappointment. I slowed the rhythm of my fingers on my clit, then up and down my private lips, so wantonly exposed by my husband’s obscene rearrangement of my underwear.
Rick turned the fingers a little more. I sobbed with mingled discomfort despite the soothing effect of being allowed to play with myself while he trained me. The fingers pulled out a little.
“All of them, now,” Rick said. “Get ready.”
I gave a little cry of alarm, even before I felt all five of my husband’s fingers, in a little cone, pressing into my smallest hole.
“Good girl,” Rick murmured. “Such a good girl.”
My back arched hard against his arm, and my hips squirmed. I creased my forehead and gritted my teeth as a little whine escaped them. I floated out of myself, more the observer now than any other part of me.
You’re right where you need to be, Mandy Williams, I told the girl over her husband’s knee.
CHAPTER 32
Mandy
Rick’s voice seemed to come from a long way away.
“We’re staying in Rocky Falls, Dee,” he said, his voice less gentle, more dominant. “You already know that, I’m guessing.”
“Yes, sir,” I moaned. Somehow it didn’t matter that from a logical perspective it was ridiculous that such an important moment, such a crucial acknowledgement from wife to husband, should occur with the husband’s fingers buried in the wife’s virgin anus.
Oh, no, that lewd part of me said. No… it does matter, doesn’t it, you naughty girl. This is the way a bratty bride learns to obey her bridegroom.
He pressed those thick fingers into my bottom more firmly, training me to open. My cheeks squirmed as I tried in vain to close against him, to push the invading digits out. I sobbed over Rick’s knee in shame and discomfort, my hips, still covered in my hiked-up skirt, desperately riding his strong thigh in a fruitless search for escape.
“Shh, Dee,” he said, withdrawing his fingers a little, as if to give me a tiny respite—as if I had earned it through my obedience, an idea that sent more heat to my face. “Relax. You know you can do this. You know you can open your bottom when you have to.”
I bit my lip and let out a whining moan as my mind absorbed Rick’s meaning. The blush in my face blazed up again at the thought of how I knew, and what it meant: that it would hurt in that dark, mortifying way when my husband took my bottom’s virginity, but that his unnatural desire would do me no real harm—just as he would do me no harm when he whipped me for misbehavior.
That his enforcement of his marital right to use my bottom just as he used my pussy and my mouth represented only the most authoritative, dominant form of discipline he would impose on me, his properly submissive wife.
At first that terrible thought made me tense up further, so much that I felt myself actually pushing out Rick’s fingers.
“No, Dee,” he said, his voice stern. He pressed the cone deeper, opened me further despite the desperate, uncomfortable efforts of my violated anus.
I cried out, and rubbed my clit harder, abjectly grateful that Rick had permitted me to touch myself. The pain again became ambiguous pleasure, and I felt myself close to coming again. My hips jerked and I cried out, and suddenly I found myself pushing with those muscles in the most embarrassing way.
Rick’s fingers pressed inward, and I received them, feeling him stretch me further than I had imagined I could open.
“Oh, God,” I sobbed. “Oh… sir… oh…”
“Shh, good girl,” my husband murmured. “Don’t come, or I’ll have to whip you, too.”
That brought a keening, wailing cry through my nose, and I almost kept going, brattily, because his very threat had nearly pushed me over the edge into my climax.