by Lucy Wild
He ran a finger up her thigh, coating it in her wetness before finding her clit, circling it teasingly slowly, hearing her moan, her hips shifting, her thigh muscles clenching as he flicked gently back and forth over her nub.
“Don’t stop,” she muttered when his hand moved away. “Please.”
“You don’t tell me what to do,” he replied, smacking her behind.
“Please,” she said, his hand back on her clit a second later, “I’m begging you. Don’t stop.”
He moved his finger away, just to remind her who was in charge. She groaned in disappointment but the sound caught in her throat when he slid his index finger into her, feeling her grip him in place as he explored inside her, pulling back and then scooping slightly into her.
With his other hand, he moved to her clit and as he did so, he leaned into her again, licking the tight hole of her bottom. Her moans grew louder as he thrust into her rear and her core at the same time, his tongue delving into her, his finger joined by another, pushing deep, sliding back and then in once more, never still for more than a second, his other hand teasing her clit until she began to cry out the most obscene imprecations, words he never expected to hear from one so innocent.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, pushing back against him. “That feels so good. Fuck me, please fuck me.”
He chuckled to himself as she continued to curse, imploring him to enter her. To think, he had been worried she would run away if he were to do anything sinful to her. His fears were unfounded, it seemed. She was going nowhere without his say so, he knew that she would never run away, not now he’d introduced her to such worldly pleasures, not when he was about to give her an orgasm she would never forget, the first of many.
“Do you want to come?” he asked, holding his hands still for a moment.
“Yes,” she shouted. “God, yes. Make me come, please, I beg you.”
“You can come but when you do, you must say, I am coming, Sir.”
“I will, just please, don’t stop.”
His fingers began moving once more, her whole body pushing back against him as he quickened both his pace and the pressure of his hands upon her. He could feel her inner walls contracting around his fingers as she seemed to stop breathing entirely, her body tensing up, her heels lifting off the floor before she slammed back onto him, her back arching upwards.
“Oh damn it,” she cried out. “I’m coming, Sir. I’m coming.”
“Come for me,” he replied, continuing to thrust into her as she began to spasm and thrash in front of him, her limbs shaking, her core gripping him and then it happened. She came and he watched with his eyes wide open, seeing her first ever orgasm, seeing it take over her whole body, take over her soul, leave her incapable of anything but guttural sounds.
It lasted for what seemed like an eternity and then it slowly began to subside. “More,” she muttered, panting heavily. “Please, I beg you.”
“Do not get greedy,” he replied, pulling his fingers from her and lightly swatting her behind. “Now go and play, I have work to do.”
He stood up, watching as she turned and almost stumbled, her legs clearly still suffering from the aftershocks of her climax. She looked as if she were about to complain but then she turned from him, slowly walking over to the doll’s house in the corner of the room.
He watched her for a brief moment before retreating, pulling the door closed after him. It was not the fact that he wanted to leave her that sent him out of the room. He did not want her to feel that she could dictate to him when her pleasure should occur. Every part of him wanted to continue making her come but he knew it was better to make her wait. Not only that, but if he was lucky, the parcel he had been waiting for would be sitting downstairs. It would be perfect if it was for he would be able to use the contents to continue Little Beth’s lessons.
He found the parcel on the desk in his study. Untying the string, he folded down the waxed paper outer layer to find a wooden box inside, the wood itself shaped and varnished so well, it was a work of art in itself. Opening the lid, he found himself looking at another work of art, or several to be precise.
Laid on a crimson velvet bed were several bulbous mushroom shaped objects in a row, each made out of highly polished steel. The smallest was little longer than two inches and no wider than his ring finger, the largest was at least four inches long and three wide. He took out one from the middle, rolling it in his palm whilst reading the paper that came with the box.
Rockingham’s Rectal Dilators. The perfect restorative for malaise, the cure for hysteria, assistance for the lethargic, recommended in Europe, now available in the United Kingdom for the first time. You are now the proud owner of the full set of five dilators, known in the common vernacular as plugs. It is recommended for use only in adults and we insist you follow the instructions to ensure years of pain-free medicinal expertise for you and your significant others.
Instructions for use. Study closely before use.
Step one - choose the appropriate size dilator. Step two - lubricate thoroughly using the vials provided. Step three - prepare the area with breathing exercises (see appendix i). Step four - insert dilator with a steady and firm motion, do not force, even the tightest and most uncooperative of patients will open to allow ingress given an appropriate length of time to prepare. Step five - Leave in place for the length of time matching the list of ailments provided (see appendix ii). Step six - Remove and clean thoroughly before returning to case.
When moving from smaller to larger sizes, we recommend commencing insertion of the smallest to warm up the area. If needed, a motion back and forth of the hand on the base will help prepare the internal muscles for larger dilators, then you may move up each size in turn.
Within the shortest of treatment periods, you will find even the most stubborn cases to pass by like a zephyr, gone and soon forgotten. That is our personal guarantee to you, our most valued of customers. In the unlikely event of issue, please return the case with contents included and we will be happy to forward you a full refund upon receipt. May you have many years of happy use of Rockingham’s Rectal Dilators, Rockingham’s - The name you can trust bringing you the products you need most.
Seems simple enough, Charles thought, setting the dilator back in place. So these are plugs? He ran his hand over each in turn, wondering how she would handle them. There was an open journal on the desk next to them and he flicked through the pages until he found the article he was looking for. It detailed in great length the ways of ensuring continued compliance with commands, concluding that without a doubt, the best method was that of the dilator.
It not only shocks the system, it confuddles the mind, leaving the internal little submissive seeking out anything solid to cling to in their addled state. There steps the dominant master, nurturing, reassuring, providing the pain of the ingress but also the pleasure of the egress. Though useful for simple dominating methodology, dilators have medicinal uses with stubborn girls and can make an excellent addition to the objects used for the purposes of discipline and chastisement. In short, to insert can cause dependence, pain, cure for ills, and much more. We recommend Rockingham’s for both their superb value and their high level of craftsmanship.
We shall see, Charles thought, closing the box and carrying it out of the study, heading back upstairs to find out just what his little Beth was getting up to in the nursery.
Chapter 19
Lizzie, or little Beth as she was beginning to see herself, was hard at work in the nursery when Sir Doyle returned. She had taken the dolls from the dollhouse and set them out on the rug in a circle. They were in the middle of a very important discussion.
“I say I should get to marry him,” the red headed doll was saying, the doll she’d named Clara.
“No, he would suit me best,” Little Beth doll replied, shaking its head.
Little Beth smiled as she looked down at the doll version of herself. She’d never owned a doll, let alone played with one. The nearest she ha
d was in the back of the cupboard, when she was locked in it, an old section of pipe that someone had discarded. She would sometimes sit and whisper to it, having tiny conversations as the sound of her mother and father screaming at each other continued on forever.
It was a world away from these dolls. They had been made by nimble fingers, hardly a stitch visible and each with a perfect miniature set of clothing, their hair thick, their eyes gleaming with as close to lifelike a glow as was possible on such small toys.
Little Beth doll was next to Clara doll. On the other side of the circle sat baby doll, also referred to as Winifred. At the head of the group was the only standing figure, his arms folded, his head bowed slightly, a top hat perched atop his black hair. That was Charles doll and he was about to find out who was going to marry him.
She was enjoying playing with them, occasionally making use of the furniture within the rooms of the dollhouse. Charles doll would sit on the chaise longue, waiting for Clara to bring him his tea, Little Beth would get there first and he’d thank her, planting a little kiss on her cheek that made Little Beth feel as if butterflies had appeared in her stomach, giving her a light dizzy sensation as she moved the dolls back into the circle to continue their conversation.
“Why should you get to marry him?”
“Because he’s already touched me in that way. It would be a sin to marry anyone else.”
“You don’t mean he,” she lowered her voice to the barest whisper, almost afraid to say the word, “fucked you?”
She blushed at the sound of the word escaping her lips. It was bad enough that it had slipped out when he was bringing her to her first climax. She sighed, her mind casting back to how it had felt. His fingers had actually been inside her, thrusting into her in a way that made her melt. Not only that, but he had played with her clitoris and licked her bottom at the same time, the mere thought of what he’d done was enough to make her core tingle as if it were all still happening. The feeling when he’d brought her to the edge, making it impossible for her to maintain any control over herself as her first orgasm struck. It was something she thought she’d never forget, not if she lived to be a hundred and one.
“No, he hasn’t done that,” she said, twisting the doll in her hand to make it speak. “But he made me come.”
“That is not something you should share,” she said in a gruff voice, picking up the Charles doll. “I told you to keep it to yourself. Clara, take Winifred inside, I must speak to Little Beth alone.”
“Yes, Sir,” Clara said, trotting off into the dollhouse with the baby doll. Charles doll bounced over to Little Beth.
“Bend over.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, leaning the doll forwards. She took hold of the hand of the Charles doll, bringing it down on the bottom of Little Beth doll, making her yelp with surprise as she mimicked a thorough spanking in miniaturised form.
“Touch yourself for me,” Charles doll said.
“Yes, Sir.”
She slid the Little Beth doll’s hand towards its hips and as she did so, she let go of the doll, her hand sliding between her own legs. She was about to touch herself when she snapped her hand away, shaking her head. “No, not without his permission.”
“Good girl.”
She jumped as she heard a voice behind her. Turning, she saw Sir Doyle standing in the doorway.
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Long enough to know you are behaving well. I have a reward for you.”
He had a wooden box in his hand and he waved it in her direction.
“For me? What is it?”
“You will see in a moment. Bring me that doll first.”
“This one?” She picked up the Little Beth doll and stood up with it, crossing the room to stand before Sir Doyle, holding the doll out towards him.
“What is this?” he asked, pointing at the posterior of the doll.
“Her bottom.”
“Good, little Beth. Where is your bottom?”
She spun round, pointing behind herself as she lifted the back of her frock.
“Well done. Has anything ever been in your bottom before, little Beth?”
“Nothing,” she said, before adding, “except your tongue.”
“How do you feel about something entering there?”
“I do not know, Sir.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought for certain that the very idea of it was disgusting but then when your tongue dipped in there, I did not know what to think.”
“Have a look in this box.” He pulled open the lid, revealing a row of metal things shaped in a manner similar to mushrooms though made of steel.
“What are they?” she asked.
“These are plugs. I am about to put one in your bottom.”
“But why?”
“Because I want to. That should be reason enough.”
“But they look so big.”
“Nonsense. If we are to continue in the way we have begun, you will soon have something larger in there. Now lay on your front on that rug, reach behind you and spread your buttocks for me.”
“Must I?”
“I will not ask you again.”
Seeing the angry look in his eyes, little Beth moved to the rug, lying down and reaching back, lifting her frock to expose her buttocks. “Which size will you use?” she asked.
“Do not worry, little Beth. You shall start with the smallest, I have no intention of causing you unnecessary pain. Now you must breathe in and out slowly five times first. And try to relax, it will make the process much easier.”
Little Beth did as he asked, inhaling as deeply as she could. With each breath, she felt her anxiety subside though it flashed back when she felt his hand on her bottom, the coldness of the plug pressing between her spread buttocks. The tip of it touched the entrance to her and she gasped at the solidity of it, so different to his tongue.
“Try and relax,” he said, pushing the tip forwards.
She could feel it moving, pressing hard against her. She was certain there was no way it could fit, not something that big. But the tapered end meant the very tip was able to dip into her, stretching her entrance slowly, widening it as she winced in pain. The pain grew stronger and sharper as the plug moved further in and she was close to screaming, such was her agony, but then it was inside. Her entrance muscles retracted around the thin handle, only the base protruding from her, rubbing her skin as her insides began to warm the cold metal that felt so dense and just so present within her, impossible to ignore.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it? Does it hurt?”
“A little,” she replied, shifting her hips to try to reduce her discomfort.
“You will soon get used to it. I want you to know I am impressed.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Roll onto your front and let me get a nappy on you. You have been without one long enough.”
“But the plug? Are you not going to take it out again?”
“I will do nothing of the sort. I want you to keep it in.”
“But for how long?”
“I will decide that. You will not remove it until I tell you. Now let’s get a nappy on you.”
Little Beth rolled onto her back, letting out a groan as she did so. The movement sent the plug grinding against her and as she lay on her back, it pressed ever deeper into her, making her core throb as it did so. She couldn’t help but spread her legs a little, wanting Sir Doyle to see down there, see how wet she knew she was, though her arousal seemed to have come from nowhere. Perhaps he might touch her again if he saw her pushing her hips up towards him.
“I will just put some powder on you,” he said, reaching across to grab a nappy. “Make sure you don’t get a rash.”
He sprinkled white powder between her legs, rubbing it into her thighs with his hands, moving his fingers across her core. “My, you are wet today,” he said, the tip of his index fingers stroking towards her core. “Looks like you’ve taken to th
e plug even better than I expected.”
“It’s not that,” she replied, knowing that was only partially true. “It’s you, touching me like that.”
“Like this, you mean?” he asked, running his hand up to her clitoris and circling it slowly.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “That.”
“Well keep the plug in and you will have more of that,” he replied, tying the nappy neatly between her legs before standing up again.
“Please,” she asked, tugging at his leg with her arm. “Please let me come.”
“Tonight,” he replied, “if you are good. Now finish your game and I will see you later. I have a meeting with the bank in an hour and I must get a move on if I am not to be late.”
The world seemed to move interminably slowly as far as little Beth was concerned. Sir Doyle left her in the nursery and she did her best to return to the dolls but the heavy weight of the plug made it hard for her to concentrate on playing. Every time she moved, it tingled inside her and her core began to ache with desire, the memory of his hands upon her still fresh in her mind. In the end, she could bear it no longer. Checking the door to make sure nobody was nearby, she reached into the back of the nappy and took hold of the base of the plug. Slowly, she tugged it, surprised by how tightly she was gripping it in place. She winced as it slowly stretched her and then with a deep breath, she pulled firmly and at last it was out.
Her bottom continued to ache as if it was still there, though in time it faded to an empty feeling, much preferable to that of such heavy fullness. She intended to put the plug back in before dinner, but by the time the bell rang and James came to collect her, she was beside herself with frustration. She had spent five minutes trying to push it back in but it just wouldn’t go. She heard his footsteps outside and in her panic, she flung the plug into the cot, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“Dinner is served,” James said as he opened the door. “The master requests your presence at once.”
“Of course,” she replied, sweeping past him and heading downstairs, hoping the waves of guilt washing over her were not visible. If he were to find out she had taken out the plug, she shuddered to think what he might do. With her fingers crossed behind her back, she entered the dining room, finding Charles already in his seat. “Good evening,” he said, motioning towards her chair. “Do sit down.”