Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“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.”
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.”