He moved behind her and pulled up her skirts, arranging them high on her back so her plump, tensing bottom was on full display. The ginger’s flange still peeked obscenely from between her cheeks. He thought of the vial of lubricant; there’d be more than ginger between those luscious cheeks today.
He drew back the switch without further ado, and gave her a few light swats to accustom her to the sting. That accomplished, he laid them on a bit harder, so she danced and fidgeted on her toes. He could see her hands twisting in the fabric of his coat. She had long since learned that throwing her hands back to shield her bottom was a serious offense. He had trained her out of such folly with the types of spankings that did make her cry.
She moaned as the switching continued. The ginger undoubtedly didn’t help. He believed he must take it out and let some of the worst of the sting dissipate before he took her arsehole—not just for her sake, but for his. He did so, tossing the fig out into the forest now that it had served its purpose.
“Please, no more,” she begged, looking back at him in entreaty. “My bottom feels all hot and used up.”
“Shall I switch your thighs instead?”
“Oh, no!”
He did give her a few smarting slices to the backs of her thighs before swatting her bottom again. The quiet, whistling strokes built upon one another, mixed with the yelps and shrieks of his punished victim. He thought he’d better make her quite beside herself before he left off, so she would be docile, perhaps even grateful, for what would come next.
In truth, he felt a bit of a cad to bugger his own wife. It wasn’t proper, not in the least, but he enjoyed it and he thought it felt good. Aside from the delicious tightness, there was something about the forbidden nature of sodomy that compelled him, so that he didn’t really want to live without it. Aurelia didn’t have to like it too—few ladies did. She only had to submit to it. He would happily please her in other ways, but buggery took two and so he at least needed her cooperation.
When her legs started to tremble, and her yelps attenuated into long, pleading cries, he decided she had had enough of the switch. He flung it away and bent to inspect his wife’s backside. He rubbed some of the sting-ier looking welts, giving her a few hand spanks for good measure. The red hand prints combined with the neat lines of switch marks to give her arse a well-punished glow. He parted her cheeks, squeezing each one.
“You took that very well, my dear. I know it was a difficult session.”
“At least you took the ginger out,” she said, her voice still a bit quivery. “It got easier after that.”
“But I am going to put something else in.” He unbuttoned the flap of his breeches and pushed them down, releasing his rock-hard organ. Just the thought of what he was about to do had him unbearably excited. It had been weeks, after all, weeks of steady preparation in hopes it would go well. “We’ve discussed this before,” he said in a soothing voice as she shuddered upon his coat. “And we’ve practiced a bit, with the ginger and with my fingers.” As he spoke, he availed himself of the little vial of slick oil, dripping some onto the tight bud of her nether opening, and smoothing some onto his fingers. He slipped one finger past the tight ring, massaging gently before proceeding to ease it in and out of her.
She cried out softly. “I’m afraid.”
“I know, my love. But there is nothing to be afraid of. It will hurt a little, but you’re so brave now when it comes to pain. And if you’re a very good girl for me, I promise you shall be rewarded at the end.” He added another finger, stretching her tense hole wider, and used the other hand to massage her lower back and her scarlet buttocks. “There now. Two fingers. It’s not so bad, is it?”
“But you are much thicker than two fingers.”
“Aurelia.” He pressed both fingers inside her to the hilt. “Do you trust me?”
She gave a great sigh and finally whispered, “Yes.”
Aurelia wanted to trust her husband. He had worked so hard to prepare her to do this outrageous thing he liked, but she was so very scared. He had put so much ginger in her bottom the last few weeks that she had come to think of it as a terribly painful place.
Well, of course it was going to hurt. He’d told her so. She felt cool, slick liquid and then the stretching probe of his fingers, and it felt very uncomfortable. He grasped her left hip with one hand.
“I’m going to go very slowly, all right? You remember your duty is to relax and not to clench.”
Oh, that was very easy for him to say, she thought. He was not the one bent over in the middle of a forest with his spanked bottom exposed and about to be invaded by a man’s cock.
She whined as he moved forward. She felt the blunt tip of him pressing to her hole, and she knew at once that it was far too big and she wouldn’t be able to stretch around him. She knew from her many trips to her knees in his service, how thick and distended the tip of his cock became when he was aroused.
“You can’t,” she gasped, gritting her teeth. “It won’t fit.”
“I assure you it will fit if you relax. And, might I remind you, this is like the ginger. The greater you clench upon it, the worse it will hurt.” He held her hip harder and nudged another bit deeper inside. “Open. Open,” he urged her.
But it didn’t feel right at all, nothing like when he made love to her quim. It ached with a terrible burn and she squirmed, trying to evade his forward motion.
“Be still, devil take it,” he said. “The tip’s inside you. Give your body a moment to adjust to the sensation.”
The sensation? It could more aptly be called torment. And once they accomplished this, she feared he would want to do it over and over. Every day perhaps. She had thought she could make a go of this marriage, depravity and all, but now she was not so sure.
“I’m afraid. It hurts so much,” she said.
“Aurelia, please.” His voice sounded ragged, as tormented as her own. “Please try a bit harder, for me.” She could hear him taking slow measured breaths. She felt more of the slippery stuff drizzled down the crack of her behind. He smoothed it around her hole, a touch that felt much more pleasant than the stretching inside. He moved the slightest amount, forward and back.
She braced for more pain but her body, somehow, was relaxing around him. The sharpest, agonizing pain had faded, giving way to a filled-up kind of discomfort.
“What do you think now?” he asked.
“Are you all the way inside? Perhaps it’s not so very bad, if you stay still.”
He gave a husky laugh. “I won’t be able to stay still much longer, and I’m only an inch or so inside.” The massaging hand at her back squeezed harder. “Please, Aurelia. We’re so close. Relax and let me love you this way.”
How strange, to think about this as a type of loving. But she supposed it was. He might hurt her so badly, right now, this second, but instead he tarried and made infinitesimal forays in and out. He was waiting for her to accept him, rather than force his way in and hurt her. She reached back to t
ouch his leg, feeling the strong muscles of his thigh. So much power to hurt her, but she realized that he wouldn’t, not in this.
“I...I think it is all right,” she said. “But please, go slowly.”
“Oh, my beautiful girl,” he sighed in reply. He drove forward a little, then a little more. The oil eased the way so there was no painful friction, although she felt terribly full. He pushed in, in, in until she thought she could not feel more impaled. “I’m all the way inside you now,” he breathed. “How does it feel? Not so very bad?”
“It feels...uneasy,” she whispered. “I am still afraid of being hurt somehow.”
“Let me put those fears to rest.” He took her hips and began to move, smooth, slow thrusts that found her center and then withdrew, leaving her empty. Distasteful as it seemed in theory, there was something about the act that was connective. He was inside her, there, and she was aware of every inch of him at every moment, with every small movement he made.
Once he had driven in and out of her several times, he pressed forward so his front rested against her back, and he embraced her. One of his legs wrapped around hers, bringing them even closer. It was the intimacy, she thought. This was a very intimate act, more intimate than any other she could picture.
His agile fingers delved down the front of her and parted the folds of her cleft, searching out the part of her that tingled and ached to be teased. She sucked in a shocked gust of air, hardly believing he could make her feel so divinely aroused when he was inside her there. Five minutes ago, she had been on the verge of tears from the pain of him breaching her, and now she felt scandalously close to being brought off. He caressed her in time with his deep forays inside her, until her hips moved in rhythm and uncivilized panting replaced her breath.