Early Morning Dream

Face-down I was, my hair in a braid down my back. My legs were cuffed to the spreader bar, my hands dug nervously into the bedcover, clutching the flannel.

"You're going to learn to like it," he said quietly, firmly. "In fact, you're going to learn to orgasm from it."

I swallowed hard, aware of the lube in his hands, though I couldn't actually see it. I wrenched a bit as the shock of the cold gel touched my anus, knowing that he took pleasure even in this minor discomfort.

And then he was sliding the plug inside me, one knob at a time until it was firmly in place and my quietness spoke of my comfort.

He pinched the lower curve of my bum, sitting on the bed beside me as I arched a bit and looked at him. My bare nipples rasped against the cotton towel beneath me, a gentle abrasion that still shot a thrill through my middle.

"Now, then," he murmured, his hand coming down on my back, pushing me down. His other hand toyed with the base of the plug. "Just remember, you're my naughty little ass slut."

The words, often murmured by one or both of us in the depths (or heights) of intercourse, did not thrill me as they ought to have. When his fingers tugged on the plug, drawing a fraction out of it, I whimpered. When he pushed it back in, I whimpered again.

The second time, he drew it out a bit more. Startled, my hand flew back.

Abruptly, the hand on my back grasped my braid, pulling my head up until my neck was fully streetched. "That is not going to happen again, young lady," he murmured. "Put your hands behind your back, now. Both of them."

Hardly breathing, I obeyed, shivering as he pushed my head back down against the duvet.

When he released my hair, he grasped my hands and held them in the small of my back.

True to his earlier words, he slid the plug in and out, the rhythm slow and gentle despite my wiggling and squirming. And gradually, I did still. The lube warmed to my temperature, the pressure began to build in my womb and my spine and my head.

"It's too much," I objected, lifting my head a bit. "Please stop."

"No," he answered firmly. "No. It's not going to damage you or kill you. Be still, listen to your body and don't panic."

The sharpness of the sensations around my anus and inside it were nearly too much to bear, I thought. I didn't like it. I couldn't like it. Stubbornly, I shook my head against the duvet, wondering how long I would have to endure before he admitted defeat. Before he gave up, and fucked me silly himself.

A slap to my rump brought me back to the present. "Stay with me, don't drift off," he said abruptly. "Think about how it feels. Think about how little control you have over how it feels. Your body is already betraying your head, you know."

Was it? I shook, shivered, tried not to listen. But my bottom was rocking up and down, meeting each thrust of the plug - still gentle but oh so persistent.

Oh dear...