Page 44 of Innocence Tamed
I stepped out of the skirt and stood trembling in the middle of the bedroom, naked except for the plug still firmly seated in my anus. The knowledge that I had walked through Paris with it inside me, that I had sat in a public cinema with almost nothing between my bare skin and the seat, made my face burn with renewed shame.
The water in the kitchen stopped running.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I moved to the bed, positioning myself as Pierre had commanded. I crawled onto the mattress, the plug shifting inside me with each movement, reminding me of its presence and purpose. I turned to face away from the door, lowering my chest to the bedspread while keeping my knees under me, my bottom raised and offered.
In this position, with my face pressed against the cool cotton and my backside shamefully presented, I felt more objectified than I ever had in my life. I could picture how terribly visible the plug must be between my spread cheeks, the base a visual reminder of what Pierre intended to replace it with, of how he had trained my most private place for his degrading use. My virgin anus stretched around the silicone, preparing me for the invasion I both dreaded and, secretly, horrifyingly, wanted.
“Lovely,” I heard Pierre say from behind me. “Lovely… and all mine.”
CHAPTER 21
Audrey
A sob wrenched itself from deep in my chest. I couldn’t tell if it came from despair, or helpless anticipation, or both. My heart pounded in my chest as my ears strained to detect his footfalls on the carpet. I felt him, more than heard him, though, so slowly and carefully did he move—as if savoring every step.
Then I felt his hands on me, both of them on my bottom, his touch very gentle, almost maddeningly so.
I let out a little cry as Pierre began to caress my still-sore cheeks, moving his hands in gentle circles, then lowering them, but never touching the valley between my rounded globes, or my pussy. Pierre spoke softly, his voice pitched at a very gently mocking tone, “Are you completely sure you don’t want to be fucked in the ass, Audrey?”
“I… I don’t,” I whispered, my voice muffled against the bedspread. But even as I said it, I felt a telltale clench deep inside me, a response I couldn’t control.
“Are you certain?” Pierre asked, his fingers tracing the outline of the welts he’d left on my bottom the previous day. “Your body seems to be telling me something different.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified by the way my flesh betrayed me. The way my thighs squirmed, the wetness gathering between them, the involuntary arching of my back that pushed my bottom higher into his hands—all of it contradicted my words.
“No,” I tried again, but my voice sounded unconvincing even to my own ears.
Pierre’s hand moved to the base of the plug, and he gave it a slight twist that made me gasp. “Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully, “you don’t want to want it,ma petite.”
Those words pierced through me with their terrible accuracy. It was true—I didn’t want to want this. I didn’t want to crave the degradation, the ownership, the complete surrender of my most private place to this man. Yet my body responded with unmistakable arousal to each touch, each word, each promise of what was to come.
I felt the mattress dip as Pierre positioned himself behind me. The rustle of fabric told me he was undressing, and I quailed at the thought of what would soon replace the plug stretching my bottom.
I was expecting that the next thing I felt would be Pierre taking hold of the base of the thing, to take it out of me. Instead I sensed his feet against the outside of my knees, as he crouched behind me. I whimpered as he pressed the head of his cock against the entrance to my soaking-wet vagina. The hot, blunt pressure against my tender opening made me shudder with anticipation.My body recognized him now, knew exactly what pleasures and torments his thick manhood could deliver.
I couldn’t help it: I moaned, “Please.” The word escaped my lips before I could stop it, betraying my need, giving the lie to all my earlier resistance. I pressed back against him instinctively, my body begging for what my pride still resisted.
“Bien sur, you little whore,” Pierre growled, the terrible word making my tummy flip. I cried out as he gripped my hip firmly and thrust himself inside my sheath. “I’m happy to prepare my cock in this tight little cunt. Only remember you must not come without permission.”
His words made me whimper with humiliation and desire. Each thrust pushed the plug deeper into my bottom, creating a fullness I’d never imagined my body could withstand. The double sensation—his cock filling my pussy while the plug stretched my anus—left me gasping, my fingers clutching desperately at the bedspread. I could feel how Pierre was training my body, making me crave his cock in my bottom no matter how uncomfortable and shameful it would be.
“See how wet you are for me?” Pierre murmured, his hands holding my hips tightly as he continued his steady rhythm, keeping my pussy just where he wanted for his deep thrusts. “You know what you need… your unconscious mind, your nervous system… your lovely little whore’s body.”
I buried my face deeper into the bedspread, trying to hide from the truth of his words. My pussy clenched around him, shamefully eager, while my stretched anus throbbed with anticipation of what was to come. I bit my lip hard, focusing on the pain to distract myself from the building pleasure. I couldn’tcome—wouldn’t come—not when it would prove him right about my shameful desires.
After what felt like an eternity of exquisite torture, Pierre withdrew from my pussy. I felt empty and bereft for a moment, until his fingers found the base of the plug. He twisted it gently, making me moan, before slowly beginning to pull it out.
“Breathe,” he instructed as the widest part stretched my opening. “Push out slightly—yes, like that.”
With a final tug, the plug slipped free, leaving me feeling strangely hollow. I had become so accustomed to its presence throughout the day that its absence felt almost like a loss. My anus fluttered, adjusting to the sudden emptiness, already missing the fullness.
I heard the snap of the lubricant cap opening, then felt Pierre’s slick finger circling my sensitized entrance. He pressed inside easily, my body already trained by the plug’s daylong presence.
“So ready for my cock,” he murmured approvingly. “Your tight little hole opens for me so beautifully now.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching me further. Despite the preparation, it hurt—but the pain seemed to have a special quality, something that connected with other parts of my body, of my nervous system, to make me perversely want more of it.
I felt his fingers retreat, then the cool sensation of more lubricant being applied directly to my sensitive opening. Pierre worked it in methodically, making sure I was thoroughly prepared for what was to come. Again, as on the previous night, his touch surprised me with its gentleness given the crude purpose, his fingers working the slick gel deep inside me as if tending carefully to my comfort.
