The two moved arm in arm into the hallway and then into Rupert’s office. The room was bright and sleek, quite unlike the rest of the house with its rich, earthy tones and traditional Spanish character.
Antonia stared about, aghast. Floor to ceiling windows covered the wall behind Rupert’s contemporary styled desk and ergonomic leather chair. The base of the desk was smooth mahogany, but the top was thick glass. Against one wall were matching mahogany cabinets, and on the opposite side was a leather couch and chair that could have been designed for a museum of modern art.
“My, this is so…so unusual!”
Rupert had left her side; moving around the desk, he sat down.
“It is a change, isn’t it?” he stared around too. “Quite deliberate, in fact. Reminds me that in this room, I’m on purpose. I’m here to work and can’t be lazy about it. I’m invigorated the moment I step inside.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Which brings to mind a matter—” he paused for a second before he continued, changing the mood in the room with the solemn expression on his face, “a matter of some delicacy that we need to talk about.”
“What is that?”
He seemed so coldly formal now, much like he was when he found her peeking in the kitchen while he conversed with Rafael Francisco. It was almost as if something had changed in him overnight. His eyes snapped rather than glowed with warmth; and he grimaced, his jaw twitching intensely. For a moment, she thought she’d done something wrong and her heart raced a little faster while her stomach turned in anxious anticipation of some rebuke. She had little doubt that her husband could be a formidable administrator and employer. In just their few hours in the house, she’d already heard him bark orders to underlings in his investment company, and even give Luisa a brisk chiding for failing to have his suits back from the dry cleaners. That moment was quite brief, but enough to make the maid shudder a bit before he softened. Was his behavior just the transition from honeymoon to the real world, or was this something more?
“In light of my sexual needs—” he paused again as if this was a difficult matter to broach, “I think it would be appropriate to prepare you in advance for anal sex.”
Antonia backed up slightly, once the meaning of his proposal registered. This was the last thing she expected to hear from Rupert—particularly in this setting. Maybe in the bedroom, but in his self-proclaimed place of business? Talking about sex? Nothing could have been further from her mind. They had satisfied each other rather well that morning and already he was making a new overture.
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” Antonia responded with caution. When Rupert’s demeanor was particularly autocratic, she found herself naturally calling him sir, just as she would address her father. He didn’t seem to mind, but expected the term of regard.
“Let me explain. It should be no surprise to you that I’m sexually well endowed. I know that you have no experience with men and the size of their erections. But I think you can trust that I’m far larger than average.”
She nodded.
“And, since I expect you to meet my sexual demands, which often include anal sex, and I don’t want to hurt you, I need to have you trained to accept a penis of my girth in your rectum.”
This frank talk made her blush. “Is this really the time to talk about this?” she said, a painfully squeamish expression distorting her pretty face.
“Why not?” he relied, briskly. “You’re a woman, a wife, not a girl. This is part of growing up, which it’s time for you to do.” He leveled her with a meaningful stare then proceeded. “There will be a series of exercises to help stretch your rear channel. I know it will be awkward for you; it’s obviously embarrassing…” he regarded her crimson cheeks with amusement he chose to hide, “but there’s no time like the present to make you ready. I have sexual needs and your single task as my wife is to help satisfy those needs. You certainly wouldn’t want to push me off to another women to find the satisfaction I require.”
“Oh, absolutely not, sir!”
“Good,” he smiled coolly. “I can think of no women better suited for the job than you. But, this kind of sex can be difficult, even painful, and if you were in pain,” he grimaced, “it would destroy the moment for me. I’m betting, however, as willing as you are—a little slut in heat, answering my passions with your own—you’ll eventually find anal sex as thrilling as I do.”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“Say nothing,” Rupert answered. He pointed to the far side of the room. “There’s a bathroom through that door, with an exam table I’ve had placed in the center. I’d like you to go in there now and remove your clothes.”
Antonia hesitated.
Rupert, expecting his wife to obey the command without wavering, immediately began to leaf through a stack of folders on his desk. Opening one, he reached for the phone and started to pick up, then stared up seeing Antonia frozen on her feet.
“A problem?”
“No, I’m just so… I, uh…”
“If there’s no problem, wife, do as I say,” he enunciated his words carefully, “or I’ll make good on my threat.” He waited, Antonia still not moving. “I said I’d punish you…” he finally reminded her. “If you want to find out graphically what that means, you’ll stay right there. If not, you’ll get that pretty bottom in the bath.”
That threat lit a fire under her motionless body, and she scurried quickly through the door at the side of the room.
Feeling a bit like Alice through the looking glass, Antonia entered a room even more startling than her husband’s chic office. The bathroom was tiled floor to the ceiling in a pattern of small black and white tiles—a style that seemed familiar, though she couldn’t quite place where she’d seen the distinctive design—an old movie, perhaps, or a picture in a magazine.
Though the room was intimately small, it seemed coldly cavernous and hostile. She envisioned hands, snapping latex gloves, scalpels, forceps, evil men. The table her husband mentioned was no more than a three-foot by two-foot block of stainless steel, drawers below with a shiny cold top. There was a long counter with a sink to her right, a white metal cabinet to her left and a commode in the far corner beyond the cabinet. Oddly, the only light in the room came from a stainless steel spotlight that was mounted high on the side of the cabinet and would appear to swivel in a variety of positions. At the moment, it was pointed toward the ceiling giving the room a diffused white glow that bathed the space in muted shadows. The feeling of dread that started when Rupert first mentioned the plan expanded into a billowing fear of some great evil about to be perpetrated on her.
Antonia had no basis in fact for her trepidation other than this sudden turn of events, and her intuition. Until he told her about his plan to train her, their three-week marriage had been a blissful honeymoon. He was demanding in bed, but just as he reminded her, she’d matched his passion with her own roused beast of desire. He bound her often when they made love, so much that she missed it when he didn’t. With her hands useless above her head or tied behind her back, the desire in her soared to savage degrees. As heartily as his erection pounded her recently rent vagina, she took every beating with ever increasing physical joy. Even when he occasionally slapped her bottom with stinging smacks in the throes of excitement or ruthlessly twisted her nipples, or pulled her by the hair—head or pubic—she felt the accompanying sensation not as pain but a new instrument of her pleasure. She learned to give to him, expecting nothing for herself in return, and found her own needs were never frustrated but only enlivened.
Her only concern in the early days of her marriage were those odd moments of panic that swept her being with the suddenness of a brush fire. Some inflection in Rupert’s voice, or look in his eyes, or even for no reason at all, her mind would flash to the most horrid pictures of sexual surrender. Oddly, she wasn’t sure if she didn’t welcome those strange images. But were these premonitions, or simply the musings of a young woman who w
as still somewhat stunned by sex and the permutations she never anticipated prior to her marriage?
The chilling effect of this wicked room brought all the portentous feelings together in one place. The fact that she thought of it as wicked in the first place made her wonder. Yes, Rupert had demanded much of her in their three weeks, but so far, she’d been his good, dutiful wife and successfully survived. Why would she have reason to fear this, except that it was so unknown?
Antonia tried to calm her ragged nerves, but had yet to undress when Rupert walked in the room.
“I thought I told you to remove your clothes.”
She turned around abruptly. “I’m sorry.”
“Get going.”
“But, Rupert, I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do. But now is not the time for questions or answers. Now, you’re going to behave yourself and obey me. If you don’t, you’ll be bent over the table and I’ll blister your behind so hard that you won’t be able to sit down. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Antonia immediately began to disrobe—which required so little of her, she wondered why she actually balked in the first place. Her new white sundress was the only thing she wore, since Rupert had specifically asked her not to wear any underwear. When he made the request, they were in bed together after making love when she accepted his wishes with a self-conscious giggle. She had such pretty underwear and yet her husband preferred her in none at all—at least sometimes, and most specifically when she was already dressed in next to nothing. Several days while in Valencia, at Rupert’s request, she’d worn her new sundresses sans panties and bra and felt as she did now, terrifically scandalous but delightfully aroused.
Naked now before her husband’s keenly focused eyes, Antonia shivered, hugging her breasts with her arms crossed modestly in front of her.
“Open up, wife, let me see,” Rupert said.
She reluctantly obeyed him, her head shyly bowed, while she bit her lip like a six-year-old child.
Rupert inspected her without comment for several seconds, then said, “Turn around.”
This was easier than facing him head on, so she immediately obeyed the request. Rupert, however, was finished with his inspection and on to further preparations, which consisted of adjusting the underside of the table so there were now padded knee-rests for her to mount and places to rest her hands. When he motioned her forward, she followed the silent order to climb on the table in the position dictated. While her knees rested comfortably in the padded rests, the position forced her thighs so widely apart that her entire hind end was left vulnerably exposed. The only good thing about the demeaning pose was that Rupert could not see how flushed she was with embarrassment. When she lowered her chest to the cold metal surface, she immediately pulled up.
“I can’t to that!” she exclaimed.
Rupert pressed a firm hand on her back and pushed her down where her belly met the cold surface again and she instinctively cringed. “I know it’s cold, but your body will warm it quickly,” he said, sounding kind. Her torso was now several inches below her ass, which only augmented her defenseless pose of surrender. Then the cold shock turned more dreadful as she realized that her husband was strapping her down to the table, legs first.
“Is this really necessary, Sir?”
“Maybe not. But I’m taking no chances.”
“Chances with what?” Her voice seemed to squeak as she conveyed her distress.
“No explanations. The best thing for you is to relax.” With her legs firmly strapped to the knee rests, Rupert then tugged her left arm out from beneath her body where she used it to protect her flesh from the icy metal tabletop. Stretching it forward, the limb was anchored to the side of the table with leather straps that secured her wrists and upper arms. He repeated the move with her right arm, effectively binding her in a fixed position from which there was no escape.
“What are you doing to me?” she cried She watched with sickening horror as an image from her nightmarish visions materialized before her eyes. Rupert stood at her side carefully inserting his fingers into a latex glove that snapped ominously against his wrist once his hand wiggled inside. He repeated the act with his other hand.
“Nothing that a doctor wouldn’t be doing to make sure you’re ready for anal penetration,” he advised her. “Antonia, relax, please.”
He laid one gloved hand on her back, the other at the cleft of her behind where he began to massage her gently. The touch, while initially comforting, electrified her scattered nerves and sent them bounding headlong toward an unbidden sexual result.
Rupert reveled in the sight of his bowed and bound wife. A feeling of conquest, of utter joy in her subjugation ripped his crotch, and his proud organ rose in response.
“Now, is that so bad?” he asked.
“No, sir. I think I’m quite aroused.”
“And I think that’s a perpetual state for you,” he added, as his fingers moved through the sensitive valley of her sexual home. His aim was to stimulate her, not make her come. That would only happen later when she realized the acute physical sensation to be found in her anal area. He gave her clitoris a firm pinch and listened to her seethe. She gasped, her belly noticeably spasming as he toyed with the opening of her vagina. Once her body was close to orgasm, Rupert drew his hand further back and ran his fingers along the cleft and upward to the taut rosette of her puckering anus. In their three weeks together, he’d deliberately avoided the sensitive area, waiting until this day to introduce his young wife to the delights and rigors of anal play. He began with his thumb rubbing the tender outer area until he heard her softly grasping for breath. Though she was caught by surprise, the foreplay was doing exactly as he desired.
Frightened by the newly discovered feelings that now rolled through her in jerking waves, Antonia’s overloaded body threatened to seize up. She whimpered some nonsense to him about not being able to stand it and he really must stop, but Rupert ignored her. When his index finger pressed its way into the loosening opening, she jerked against the restraints trying to throw him off. He came back at her with a brusque slap to the ass.
“Antonia, enough!”
She tried to settle but the feelings were so new, so raw and unpredictable that her attempts to squelch the body response only succeeded in part. But then, any wrenching movement only gave Rupert another chance to smack the wiggling behind.
“You are a bit of an anal vixen,” he said pleased. His organ stirred again becoming more erect.
“But I hate it, sir!”
He slapped her again. “That is a lie!”
“Oh, would that it were, I could please us both,” she vented. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
He slapped her several times, from one cheek to the other until her bottom stung. “Well then, like it or not, sorry or not, get used to what you’re feeling because I’m not about to give up. You will relent and give me what I want, or pay prices you’ll regret.”
His words were torture to hear; his determination menacing.
“It’s a matter of acceptance. You can accept my fingers toying at your pretty cunny, but not your ass, only because one sounds right, the other wrong; the one is pretty and romantic, the other just plain crude. I know your objections; I expect them. But I also have a ready answer for you, darling. If you hold on, you’ll find some peace with this. Trust that. Until then, you’ll hold on and do your best to relax.” Having made that comment, Rupert drove two fingers into Antonia’s rectum.
“Eawwwww! No, no, no don’t, please my love. If you have any consideration for me, you will…”
He cut her off with five sharp cracks to her behind with a wooden ruler. The change in method stunned her quiet. She sobbed into the cold comfort of the metal table, her tears making a tiny pool of salty liquid.
“Cut the hysterics,” Rupert said tersely. “You have two choices. Either accept my gentle penetrations or I’ll turn you over to Luisa, who does this very well, I might add. I’m sure she’ll b
e much more invasive with you than I am.”
“Oh, my darling, please!” She moaned is dismay. And yet, mindful of his threat, she forced her body to accept the brutal invasion. To her surprise, it did. For several minutes, Rupert played with both her vagina and her anal opening, until the result took orgasmic turns and her belly heaved with spasms.
Finally satisfied that he’d conquered her this much, he pulled his hands away and moved to the sink, allowing Antonia to rest while he prepared for the next step of her training. His wife remained happily, unthinkingly inert in her bound position, glad on the one hand the intense penetration had ended, but on the other hand aware that her husband may well be right—there was an enormous fire lit in her inner regions, something so deeply hidden that it took his determined insistence to show her the truth.
When he finally returned to her, she was awakened by the sound of something scraping against the tile, and the pinging of metal hitting metal. Despite her curiosity, she didn’t dare look, having decided some time ago that she was better off with her eyes closed. When the penetration of her anus began again, the feeling of disgust and loathing had disappeared. She silently applauded the way she accepted whatever it was that Rupert inserted into her nether hole, and for several moments found the penetration pleasant. All that changed however, with a sudden and inexplicable rush of wildness in her rectum and beyond.
“My god, something’s wrong!” she cried.
“Shush,” Rupert soothed her, a hand laid tenderly on her back and massaging her lightly. “This is as natural as anything I’ll ever to do you. Just a simply cleansing, that’s all.”
When her belly began to cramp, Antonia finally realized that Rupert had inserted something into her that was now flooding her insides with liquid.
She tried to shriek in protest, but Rupert was there to pacify her fears. “You’re almost done, almost…and so beautiful, so lovely, hummmm.”
What was he thinking! How could any of this be beautiful?
To her great relief, Rupert finally removed the foreign object from her rectum, but that did nothing to stop the pressure that was building with each second.
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