Page 93 of The Duke's Pet

She moved quickly to the bench then rested over his lap, her breasts pressing on his leg. Her heart was thudding against her ribcage and she stared at the tiled floor.

“Not like that. Have you forgotten?”

As he’d spoken he’d taken control. He tipped her farther so her head hung down and only her toes touched the floor. She gripped his pants as her hair swung over her face.

“That’s better.” He shoved her dress and undergarments farther up her back so her bare bottom was on display. “Perfect.”

She trembled, not from the cold but knowing what was coming.

He smoothed over each of her buttocks, his palm cool on her warm flesh.

“So sweet,” he said. “And so naughty.”

Slap. Slap.

He’d spanked her hard on each cheek. The sound echoed around the grotto. She bucked forward, the sharp shock of each strike snatching her breath.

Again he rubbed her ass, as if soothing away the heat of the smack. Then he used the heel of his hand to push her right cheek away from the left, exposing her hole.

“Pretty little kitten ass,” he murmured, circling her tight pucker.

Embarrassment tickled over her; it always did when he examined her there, especially like this, in the harsh light of day. She squeezed her eyes closed to block that out. Complaining would do no good. Her husband would take and do what he wanted with her, whether she was self-conscious or not.

“Purr,” he instructed. “Purr as I fit your tail.”

She swallowed, then tensed her throat and made the noise that always made his cock hard.

“Good,” he said, inserting his finger into her.

A tremble went through her belly. She tried to relax but it was difficult to. Blood had rushed to her head and her buttocks were smarting from her two swift spanks.

He chuckled. “Oh, dear, this is going to be a difficult task if you are insisting on being so tight.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

Smack.

“Ouch!” She lurched forward and clamped around him.

“Did I tell you to stop purring?”

She knew better than to speak again, and resumed the low, r-rolling hum. She rubbed her cheek against his leg, knowing he liked that and hoping it would mean he’d go easier on her bottom.

He added another finger then stretched them wide, parting her hole and preparing her for the plug.

She took long, deep breaths, keeping up her purr the best she could. This was the bit she really needed to concentrate for; it took mental discipline as well as physical to relax her back hole.

“Good,” he said after a moment. “You’re ready for this new plug.” He removed his fingers and placed the tip of the cool, greased plug in the center of her asshole.

For a moment he held it there with the smallest amount of pressure, as if knowing the anticipation was creating a swirl of emotions inside her.

Would it hurt? Could she take it? What the heck would anyone think if they came in and saw her now, over her husband’s knee and about to be dressed with the lewdest tail a person could imagine.

A shiver tapped its way up her spine, not from cold, but from the thought of that humiliation.

He ran his free hand down her back as if smoothing away the quiver in her body. “Bear down,” he said. “You will take this, all of it. It’s what I desire of you.”

She did as he’d instructed and her plugging began.

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