Page 51 of Shameful Needs
“I want you bent over this table,” Ryan commanded, his hands settling on my lower back to guide me into position. “Hands flat on the top.”
I obeyed with trembling limbs, my palms on the cool wood as he arranged me to his satisfaction. The plug shifted deeper as I bent forward, making me gasp at the overwhelming fullness. My breasts hung freely beneath me, my nipples brushing against the table’s surface with each breath.
“Perfect,” Ryan murmured, his hands stroking down my spine, then holding my bottom cheeks possessively. “Displayed exactly as you should be.”
I felt his fingers find the base of the plug, and I cried out as he began to twist it slowly inside me. The metal toy pressed against sensitive places I didn’t even know existed, sending jolts of electricity through my entire nervous system.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered, my hips bucking involuntarily. “Sir, please?—”
“Please what?” he asked, continuing the maddening rotation. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”
I couldn’t answer because I honestly didn’t know. The sensations were overwhelming, teetering between pleasure and discomfort in a way that left me gasping and desperate. When he pulled the plug partway out before sliding it back in, I screamed at the intense stretch.
“That’s it,” Ryan growled, using the toy to work me open. “Let me hear how much you need this.”
He withdrew the plug completely, and I sobbed at the sudden emptiness. But before I could process the loss, I felt his massive cock pressing against my dripping pussy from behind.
“Time for your reward,” he said, driving forward in one smooth thrust.
The sensation was incredible after being stretched by the plug. My body welcomed him eagerly, my walls clenchingaround his thickness as he filled me completely. This wasn’t the gentle lovemaking I was used to—this was claiming, possessing, using me as his property.
“Yes,” I cried out, my voice echoing off the living room walls. “Oh God, yes, sir!”
Ryan’s hands gripped my hips as he established a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving me forward against the table. I could hear the obscene sounds of our joining, could feel his seed from this morning making everything slick and perfect for his use.
“Come for me, ass girl,” he commanded, one hand reaching around to find my clit. “Show me how grateful you are to have your master in your cunt.”
His fingers worked the sensitive bundle of nerves while his cock pounded into me relentlessly. The dual sensations, combined with the memory of the plug stretching me moments before, sent me spiraling toward the edge with terrifying speed.
The pressure built impossibly fast, my body responding to Ryan’s dominance with a desperation I’d never experienced before. His fingers on my clit, his massive cock filling me so completely, the memory of being plugged and displayed—it all crashed together in a perfect storm of submission and need.
“I’m going to come,” I sobbed, my voice breaking as the sensation crested. “Sir, please, I can’t hold back?—”
“Come now,” Ryan commanded, his voice strained with his own approaching release. “Come on your husband’s cock.”
The permission shattered my last resistance. I exploded around him, my body convulsing against the coffee table as intense pleasure tore through me. I screamed his name, my voice raw and desperate as the orgasm consumed every thought, every sensation.
At the same moment, I felt Ryan’s cock pulse inside me, his own climax triggered by my desperate clenching around him. He roared my name, his hands gripping my hips so tightly Iknew there would be bruises as he spilled himself deep inside me. We rode the waves together, our bodies joined in perfect, overwhelming union.
CHAPTER 24
Ryan
The next weekpassed in a hot, dark, happy blur. I’d never imagined how completely a man’s life could change once he finally understood what his wife truly needed. Every morning I woke to find Heather’s warm body pressed against mine, and every morning I claimed her exactly as she craved—thoroughly, dominantly, without apology. The shy, modest woman I thought I’d married had vanished completely, replaced by someone desperate to please me in ways that left us both breathless.
I took the entire week off work, telling my team I had urgent family matters to attend to. It wasn’t a lie—establishing our new dynamic was the most important work I’d ever done. Each day I refined Heather’s training, watching her blossom under the structure she’d been silently begging for since our wedding night.
I made certain the plug became her constant companion. I’d remove it only when I wanted to use her ass myself, then replace it immediately afterward. She learned to sleep with it, to do her housework with the jeweled reminder of her submission nestledbetween her cheeks. By the third day, she’d stopped whimpering when I inserted it, and by the fifth, she was spreading her cheeks for me without being told.
“Please, sir,” she whispered on Thursday morning as I prepared to plug her after her wake-up anal session. “May I put it in myself?”
The request sent heat straight through me. My modest wife wanted to plug her own ass, wanted to demonstrate her submission by claiming herself for my use. I handed her the emerald-jeweled toy and watched as she bent forward, working it past the tight ring with evident skill.
“Good girl,” I murmured, stroking her hair as she settled the base against her bottom. “You’re learning your place so well.”
The praise made her glow with happiness in a way it seemed as if my gentle words never had before. This was what she’d needed all along—clear expectations, firm guidance, the security of knowing exactly how to please me.
I established routines that reinforced her new role. Meals were prepared and served naked except for her apron. Dinner was consumed with her kneeling beside my chair. Housework was done completely nude while I supervised, correcting her posture or rewarding good behavior with intimate touches. Evenings were spent with her mouth servicing me while I watched television or read, her naked body a constant reminder of my ownership.
