It was time to return home. Blake would finish his shift and she still had one important task to complete—her other daily ritual—the inserting of the butt plug. She frowned, twisting the vine in her fingers until it broke. She hoped she’d become accustomed to the requirement, it was much harder to perform than the morning wake-up blow-job.
* * *
Blake watched Lysa bustle about the pod as she tidied up stray clothing and put away his weights. As she bent over, he glimpsed her bare bottom. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. He’d finished his work out and had a shower and he’d opted not to put back on a shirt, it always helped to ready her. The start of a three day break for him. What else was there to do but treat himself to her gorgeous body?
“You’ve had a week of the big plug. No problems?”
“Fine,” she replied, shutting the closet door.
He sat on the bed with his hands tucked behind his head trying hard to ignore the ache in his cock. “You’ve done really well over these last few weeks. Preparing your arse for me.”
She blushed. “It wasn’t as horrendous as I thought.”
True, he agreed, but neither had it been easy for her. Every few days he’d personally checked her progress. She’d lain over his lap as he rested on the bed and he had inserted the well-oiled plug himself, testing her tightness with his fingers first. Using it to increase her arousal, he’d plied his fingers about and within her pussy, driving her to a noisy climax. Satisfied by her progress, he’d turned her over and took her from behind, the plug in place. He’d done that with the other plug, but not with the largest.
He fancied, after three weeks of training, she was more than ready for his own cock now. How to ensure she’d be in the right frame of mind? Lysa appeared nervous, or perhaps highly-strung. He wished he knew more about her liaisons with the other women. Was she behaving or making mischief behind his back? The question gave him the solution to his both his issues. He’d interrogate her and immediately, his cock hardened into a rigid pole.
“How you getting on with the other wives?”
Lysa hesitated. “Fine.”
“I’m not entirely sure what all these fines mean.” He lowered his arms. “Come over here.”
Another discernible hesitation before she moved. She stood by the side of the bed and he reached over and snatched her hand. “What’s up?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
He lifted up her skirt and cupped his hand about her sex. She rocked on her heels as he slid his fingers up and down her slit. Some wetness, but insufficient for his needs. “Come on, lie across me.” He patted his thigh.
She crawled on to the bed and as she slid across him, he drew her dress over her waist, exposing her nakedness. He ran a finger down her spine and down into her crevice. There was tension between her buttocks, she clenched.
“How are your studies going?” he asked, circling her anus.
“Fine… I mean, good. I’m busy with safety protocols at the moment.” She raised herself up onto her elbows for the first time seemed animated. “Did you know—?”
“The other women don’t know, do they?”
Her eyebrows knitted. “Of course not. I’m not stupid,” she snapped.
“Don’t get haughty with me.” He pinched a buttock cheek. Lysa flinched and dropped her head down.
She snorted. “They’re nosey. That’s all. Like all women with much time on their hands and little to do. Now, if they’d been able to study or work like me—”
He smacked a cheek. “That is exactly the kind of conversational topic you should avoid.”
“I do,” she contested, rubbing her bottom. He knocked her hand away.
“Perhaps you need a reminder.” He aimed for the other cheek and she jolted. “Let’s get this dress off and do this properly, shall we?”
She knelt and drew the dress over her head. A couple of months ago, she’d baulked and made a fuss about him spanking her for no particular reason. Now, she lay across his lap and settled into position. He’d discovered spanking her a couple of times a week before sex kept her in a suitable frame of mind, at least, she didn’t argue with him as much.
He continued with his spanking, bouncing his hand off each buttock in quick succession. A pink glow kindled in her skin. She made little noises with each smack. He didn’t strike hard or with the full force of his muscular arm. She’d been hollering if he did.
After a dozen smacks he stopped and returned to toying with her holes using both hands, fingers working in and out, spreading her juices. Lysa murmured, spreading her legs wider. She called it a workout—stretching and probing her before sliding his thick cock into her. She admitted she appreciated the preparation.
“Are they nasty towards you?” he asked. Blake wouldn’t tolerate bullying that made Lysa unhappy or afraid. His desire to foster his love for her kept her happ
iness at the forefront of his mind. His own, too. They’d made promises to each other.