Page 97 of Forfeits

“No,” I said.

Aiden hesitated.

“No?” he asked.

“Wait,” I said instead. I wasn’t sure. I needed a moment.

“Fletcher? Talk to me.”

“I’m not sure…”

“No?”

I shuffled my bare feet. How to say it without sounding persnickety or embarrassed, even though I was both of those things?

“We didn’t…do the…enema. You know…” Talking with the bit in my mouth was difficult and humbling. My words sounded strange.

“Oh,” Aiden said. “But you did…something.”

“Yes, Sir. I used a disposable douche.” Yeah, that sounded great with the lisp. “But it might not be enough. I’m sorry.”

He came around beside my head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. I know we didn’t fully prepare, but I’ll take the risk. The douche should be enough. And, if not, I’ll deal with it.”

“You will?” My cheeks were aflame.

He chuckled. “You keep forgetting. I was almost a nurse.”

“Oh.”

“You’re getting out of character. I need to give you a name.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I waited patiently, feeling conflicted about the butt plug tail. On the one hand, I enjoyed butt plugs in general, so the actual sensation of being filled and of it going in were desirable. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being made into a pony that way. The bridle was one thing, the hitching post another. The tail seemed final, as if that would transform me into Aiden’s pet once and for all. But did I hate that idea…or love it?

“Treasure,” Aiden said. “That’s what I’ll call you. Because that’s what you are. Even without a ponytail and bridle.”

My heart swelled with happiness.

“Spread your legs.”

The happiness remained in the background as anxiety and shameful desire took over. I did as I was told.

I heard Aiden lube up the plug and my heartbeat quickened. I could only stare straight ahead. He might as well have blindfolded me.

A gloved hand landed on my hip, and Aiden guided me back a couple of steps so I was leaning forward with my legs spread. I was a little unsteady because my wrists were bound.

“Don’t worry, Treasure. I’ve got you,” Aiden crooned.

His gloved fingers spread lube between my crack and around my hole, swirling and stroking then pushing into me as I gasped with the pleasure of it.

“Good pony. Open up for me.”

I groaned as one finger became two, and Aiden stretched me in a pragmatic way that left me feeling lowly and objectified. I loved every minute of it. Too soon, those fingers were gone, and the slick tip of the plug pressed against my hole.

“Relax, pretty pony. Open up, now. You want your tail, don’t you?”

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