Page 16 of Good Girl

She thinks about it and I’m proud of her for not immediately insisting it hurts. She can be a demanding little thing, but she’s open to new experiences. Open to allowing her Dom the upper hand when he’s topping.

“No,” she admits. “Not really. I think it actually feels kind of good.”

I grin at her. “Good girl.”

She glows and slowly smiles back. For a moment we forget where we are, the kidnapping, the harsh corrections and harsher play, as we share this new experience. I remove my finger and pick up the plug. Her eyes drift to the purple object, but she doesn’t look freaked out anymore. Now there’s curiosity and lust written all across her beautiful face.

“Trust me, you can take it,” I assure her.

She looks up at me and nods. “Yes, Master.” She blushes as the word slips past her lips. She’s done it intentionally. The first time she’s been willing to call me Master since we started playing. I want to drop to my knees in front of her and promise her the world. Promise I’ll take care of her precious submission.

I press the plug against her ass with steady pressure, sliding it in. She tenses. The plug isn’t huge but it’s much bigger than my single finger. I run my free hand over the curve of her ass, petting her, assuring her without words that I won’t tear her apart, that I would never hurt her. She relaxes a little, pressing back into my hand.

I push the last inch of plug into her ass. She gasps and moans but doesn’t move. She’s breathing heavily, maybe breathing through the fullness. I continue to stroke her silken skin, giving her as much time as she needs to adjust to the object invading her virgin territory. I can see the moment she accepts it, her body gradually relaxing and her ass wiggling as she experiments with her new toy.

Biting back a grin, I say, “Stand up, Cadence. Go to the cross.”

I don’t help her, instead allowing her to feel the plug as it moves with her when she crawls off the spanking bench, moving back to stand up. Little gasps fly from her lips and I know she’s experiencing the shift of the plug as it adjusts to her movements. A look of wonder crosses her face as she takes a few steps from the bench. She stops and lets out a small giggle.

“What?” I ask, still fighting a smile.

“I can’t believe I was afraid of this, Vin!” she says, turning to look at me. “It feels so strange, but also really good. Fuck, I should’ve done this ages ago.”

I let go of the fact that she called me Vin instead of Master. “Maybe you won’t be so afraid to let me try new things in the future.”

She nods distractedly and goes to stand next to the cross. She looks at me questioningly.

“Stand with your back against it.” I stride toward her. “Arms up, elbows bent, hands behind your head.”

She obeys, reaching back and gripping the cross where it intersects behind her head. I pick up a pair of leather cuffs and walk behind the cross. Pulling her hands from behind her head I make her stretch as I pull them behind the wood, cuffing her behind the cross. I circle back around and look at her for a second, absorbing her stunning beauty, her complete vulnerability against my cross. It does something to me to see her standing against something I made, her bare skin touching the wood that I finished. Like she’s resting against a piece of me. But not just resting. Attached, pinned, taken.

I bend down in front of her and tap her foot. “Spread.”

She steps her foot to the side and I take her calf and press her leg against the bottom of the cross. I use the leather cuff, already attached to the cross, to tie her to the wood. I do the same with her other foot. She’s now spread completely wide.

I look up at her. She’s looking down at me, her eyes glowing misty grey and happy. She shouldn’t be happy considering the evening she’s had. But she’s a natural submissive. She lives to be dominated. Lives to feel the bite, sting and thud of my toys. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Her red hair swirls between us, reaching out to me, beckoning me.

I stand, not moving back, allowing my body to touch her. I wish I was as naked as she was, skin to skin. My cock is straining against the zip of my jeans and I’m dying for a piece of her. I take a fistful of hair at the back of her head and tip her head until she’s looking up at me. Submissive, compliant.

“My love,” I say and kiss her, savagely. Biting her lips, stealing her breath, imprinting myself.

Our first kiss.

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