Page 50 of Shameful Needs
Before I could fully process what was happening, I felt the swollen head of his erection pressing against the still-sore ring. I moaned in mingled discomfort and mortifying arousal.
“Sir… please… no… not yet…”
“Shh…” my husband commanded. “Open for me.”
“Sir,” I gasped, my voice hoarse from sleep. “I’m not ready?—”
“Your body must always be ready for me now,” he interrupted, his hands gripping my hips possessively. “That’s what good ass girls understand.”
“Oh… God…” I sobbed as his cock pushed more firmly. “Oh… sir…”
I cried out as I obeyed, feeling my bottom open that humiliating way, feeling his huge, rigid penis surge into me. I whimpered as the thrusting began, and I felt my ass open on Ryan’s manhood, full of his power.
He used me thoroughly, taking his time to establish his dominance before finally spilling himself deep inside me. When he pulled out, I felt his seed leaking from my stretched hole, marking me as his property from the very start of the day.
“Get up,” Ryan commanded, throwing back the covers. “Take off that nightgown and put in your plug. I’ll have breakfast in half an hour. Then you’ll do your chores naked except for the plug.”
I stared at him in confusion, my mind still foggy from being woken so abruptly. “You want me to clean… naked?”
“Did I stutter?” His voice carried that edge of authority that made my stomach clench. “From now on, all your housework gets done with nothing on. I want to see my property while you serve me. I took today off so we could start our new life with you having a full understanding of your duties.”
My face burned with shame as I pulled the beautiful nightgown over my head, leaving me completely bare in the morning light streaming through our bedroom windows. The thought of doing mundane chores while naked felt overwhelming, but I could see from Ryan’s expression that arguing would only make things worse.
I reached for the plug on the nightstand with trembling fingers, the emerald jewel cold against my palm. My bottom still ached from Ryan’s morning claiming, his seed sticky between my thighs as I bent forward to position the metal toy against my tender opening.
“That’s it,” Ryan murmured, watching intently as I worked the plug past the tight ring. I whimpered as it settled into place, the familiar fullness making me feel owned and marked once again. “Perfect. Now you can put on your apron to make breakfast.”
Relief flooded through me at the small mercy. I tied the thin cotton around my waist, grateful for even this minimal covering as I padded barefoot to the kitchen. The plug shifted with every step as I pulled ingredients from the refrigerator.
I made Ryan’s eggs exactly the way he liked them—over easy with the yolks still runny, accompanied by thick-cut bacon and buttered toast. My hands shook slightly as I plated everything, hyperaware of how the apron barely covered my nakedness while the plug pressed insistently inside me.
“Sit,” Ryan commanded when I brought his plate to the dining room, gesturing to my usual chair, which he’d returned to its place at the table.
I lowered myself carefully onto the wooden seat, gasping softly as the plug drove deeper. The hard chair pressed the base against my bottom, making it impossible to forget what filled me as I picked at my own breakfast with nervous fingers.
“Eat properly,” Ryan instructed, cutting into his eggs. “You’ll need your strength for cleaning today.”
After breakfast, I cleared the dishes and made my way to the living room, my face burning as Ryan settled into his favorite armchair to watch me work.
“Take off the apron,” he commanded. “Right here in front of me.”
He pointed to the carpet just in front of the chair. With my face burning I went to stand there. I kept my eyes downcast as I reached back and untied the strings, then lifted it over my head.
“Give it to me,” Ryan said, and I handed it over. “Now do your chores.”
I started with dusting, acutely aware of how my breasts swayed freely as I reached for the high shelves. Every movement sent the plug shifting inside me, making me gasp and squirm as I tried to focus on my tasks.
“Bend over more when you dust the coffee table,” Ryan commanded, his voice a little husky with obvious appreciation. “I want to see that pretty plug while you work.”
I obeyed with a whimper, presenting my plugged bottom as I cleaned the wooden surface.
“Beautiful,” he said. “My perfect little ass girl, working so hard to please me.”
The praise sent heat flooding through my core despite my embarrassment. I was vacuuming the carpet when Ryan’s hands suddenly settled on my shoulders, making me jump and fumble with the machine’s cord.
“That’s enough cleaning,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Time for your reward.”
Before I could ask what he meant, his strong hands were guiding me toward the coffee table I’d just finished polishing. My heart hammered against my ribs as he positioned me facing the couch, my thighs pressed against the polished wood surface.
