“Why do you fear it so?”
“I don’t know, Master.” Part of my reason used to be that anal sex was taboo. It’s not something anyone I knew did—and my friends were pretty open about their sexuality. I knew one person who’d done it, as we learned in a drunken game of Never Have I Ever. But here it was the norm, so it wasn’t much of an excuse anymore. “I think it will hurt.” In truth, it was the last thing I had that was still mine.
“It may hurt at first, yes. But like all things, you can grow to enjoy it if you get past the barrier you put up in your mind about it.”
I nodded, although deep down I wanted to beg not to let it happen. I knew it was only a matter of time.
“You are still not ready,” he said. “Mentally. But someday you will be.”
“Thank you, Master,” I said, trembling with relief. I wasn’t ready, and I was so grateful he saw that, and in his own strange way respected it.
He still spoiled me.
Marco petted my head and I leaned into his hand, wanting to be his good puppy.
“Today,” he said, “we begin your mental preparation.”
I stilled, heart accelerating.
Marco held out a hand and I took it with hesitation. His was hot; mine was freezing.
He led me to a leather-covered table with a bottle of lube and a strange looking black plastic thing. One end of it sparkled like a diamond. Marco had to tug my hand when I slowed. He patted the table.
“Lay on your side with your back to me.”
I crawled up, eyeing the cone shaped “toy.” I wanted to kick it away.
“This is a medium anal plug,” Marco explained.
Oh, damn. That thing looked big. I made a whispered sound of fear and Marco hushed me, guiding me on my side. I lay how he told me to and closed my eyes. He pushed my panties down over my cheeks and I was so tense. His fingers were firm, but gentle as he applied a generous amount of lube. I clenched my glut muscles, my heart thundering, and Marco made a sound of disapproval.
“You must relax or it will hurt worse.”
I tried to relax. I really did.
I felt the tip of the plug pushing in, and at first it was like a finger. Then I began to feel fuller. As he pushed more there was a sudden sharp, stretching pain. I gasped, wanting to scream.
Again, Marco hushed me, running his hand down my hair. He kept the plug in me at that uncomfortably stretched point, but didn’t push any farther. It was like he was letting my body get used to it. After a minute he pushed a bit more until I gasped again in pain. How did people have anal sex? This freaking hurt!
On and on it went until the thickest part of the bulb stretched me. I held my breath, prepared for him to push it all the way in, but instead he slowly pulled it out and pushed it back in. He stroked my ass with it, each time making me suck in a breath as it stretched me to the thickest point.
“You are very tight,” Marco whispered. His hand lifted hair off my sweating forehead, and it felt good to have him pay attention to me like that. “Relax. Let yourself feel every movement.”
I inhaled a big breath and exhaled, trying to relax. When he began to move the plug inside me again, a little faster now, in and out, I was shocked to find my breaths quickening. Okay. I didn’t hate it. He took his time with me and I moved my hips to meet his thrusts. Now that the pain had subsided, it was…nice. Then he gave it a deep push and I cried out, feeling my asshole close tight around the thinnest point. I was panting. The diamond stuck out, nestled between my cheeks, and I felt so intensely full.
Marco leaned close to my ear. “Never make me punish you again, Angel. I promise I will never go easy again.”
“Yes, Master,” I breathed.
“You will wear this plug when you visit your patron tonight. And Angel?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Do try to enjoy it.”
I nodded. Marco looked at Luis. “Take her to the slave quarters and bring me Perla.”
Luis nodded and helped me down from the table as Marco walked out. I’m not sure, but I think Marco was turned on by the whole plug experience too. He never took any of the slaves except Perla and girls brought by other guests. He seemed to enjoy those little gifts, new girls in his bed, but when it came down to it Perla was the one he came back to. I didn’t think it was love. Maybe more of a comfort thing. He definitely treated her like a slave, but behind closed doors…I wondered.
Out of Marco’s site I was allowed to walk, but walking with a butt plug in was strange. It was impossible not to think about it—not to concentrate on the fullness, and how nerve endings inside me were being rubbed and nudged in the most satisfying way. By the time we made it back to slave quarters my inner thighs were wet.
Damn it.
Score for Marco. Because tonight, for the first time, I would go to a patron seeking release. I didn’t know if I’d be able to find it once I got there, but I knew I’d never look elsewhere again. Despite what Josef said, it was not worth it. Not to me.