by Zoe Blake
Surprised, she felt something cold and smooth caress her lips. She opened her eyes and tried to see what it was, but his large fist covered most of the object.
“Open your mouth.”
The metal object clacked against her pearly teeth as the object was pushed into her mouth before she could even truly obey. Expecting something like that awful long thing the doctor had forced into her mouth she was confused to feel something shaped like a teardrop with a stem.
“Get it nice and wet for me.”
Not knowing what it could possibly be, Charlotte had no choice but to comply. Asher pulled the anal plug from her surprisingly eager mouth and once again focused on her bottom. Stroking the seam between her cheeks, he pushed his fingers inside and spread her bottom cheeks open. It was easily done with one large, strong hand. He placed the wet tip of the anal plug against her trembling puckered hole.
“What…what are doing?” asked an alarmed Charlotte.
“Ensuring you have a constant reminder the rest of the day who is your new lord and master.”
Asher deliberately was not using lubricant. He wanted her to struggle to take the plug. It was an exceedingly small one. Only two inches long and less than an inch wide. It would do no harm to force it into an untried, dry rectum. Before long she would be taking objects thrice its size up her tiny bottom.
“Relax your bottom, little one.”
“I can’t,” cried Charlotte, truly frightened at the prospect of having the object that was just in her mouth pushed up her bottom.
Pushing against her fear tightened hole, Asher steadily applied more pressure. Slowly the muscle ring weakened and the smooth tapered end slipped in. Charlotte sucked in a startled breath and held it. Asher watched as her tiny hole was forced to open and stretch. Her pink rosebud turning white as the skin stretched over the ever widening bulbous part of the plug.
“It hurts. Take it out,” cried Charlotte.
It was hard to describe the unfamiliar pain. Her skin felt like it was tearing from the onslaught. Charlotte bit down on her lower lip as another sharp pang caused her to rise up on her toes in a weak attempt to escape the torment.
“This is for your own good, my dear.”
With another final push, her reluctant bottom swallowed the plug, closing over the stem much like her small mouth had moments before.
“It feels wrong. It feels like I have to…like I have to,” Charlotte could not finish the demeaning thought.
Asher tapped the end of the plug, causing a small spasm of sensation to ripple through her. He secured her pantalettes and dropped her petticoats and skirts over her now full bottom.
Charlotte straightened, red in the face both from the pain and embarrassment. “But…you can’t mean to leave it inside me?”
Asher stroked her warm cheek. “It is called an anal plug. It is for little girls who misbehave. It will cause no harm to leave it up your naughty bottom for as long as I please.”
“But, what if I have to…have to,” again she could not finish.
“You will have to ask permission like a good little girl. You will have to get used to asking me permission for many of your needs and wants from now on, little one.”
***
Moments later Charlotte promised to love, honour and obey her new husband. She was now his true possession in the eyes of God and man.
Chapter Four
A Rough Ride
Charlotte was hustled into a waiting carriage soon after the wedding breakfast finished. It was a relief. She was tired of all the questioning glances she received from the curious wedding guests and gossip-mongers among the ton. Everyone had witnessed Lord Asherton’s stormy expression as he followed his bride into the small room.
They both emerged some time later. Lord Asherton with a pleased expression on his countenance. Charlotte looked as if she had been properly chastised for some unknown infraction. Could it be the wild Lady Charlotte was finally going to be brought to heel? Lord knows her parents could never control her. It was the considerable opinion of the matrons of the ton that if anyone could do it, it was Duke Asherton. Especially with all those rumors about his particular tastes when it came to the bedroom and beyond.
It was a matter of gossip as to whether the Lady in question was aware of her new husband’s…shall we say unique demands when it came to what he required of his woman. It was also the considerable opinion of the matrons of the ton that Charlotte was not. For the uncharitable among them, they heartily wished they could be a fly on the wall when the impudent beauty first learned of the unusual circumstances of her new life.
However, it could also be said there were a fair number of ladies both young and old who would have traded places with Charlotte in a heartbeat. To be coddled and protected like a precious doll by such a man…well perhaps it wasn’t such a bad fate after all.
Such was all the coming and goings behind Charlotte’s back during the tedious wedding breakfast. She had no notion of course. Her thoughts were of a much more personal matter. One that made her blush every time she either thought or felt the plug up her bottom let alone caught a knowing glance from her new husband.
Asher was of course aware of the gossip and in true aristocratic fashion, he did not give a damn. He was a Duke. He would live and do as he pleased and that included how he planned to treat his wife. That being said, he too was anxious to be off to his country estate. Alone with his little Lottie.
Charlotte was so anxious to be off, she barely said goodbye to her parents. She also failed to notice that none of her packed trunks were loaded onto the carriage. Her parents were aware of the Duke’s specific instructions not to send her off with any of her previous belongings or dresses. In true passive fashion, they of course still bought her a trousseau for her wedding. They just didn’t tell her they planned to return it all to the dressmaker after her departure. Charlotte was also not told that her lady’s maid would not be joining her. The Duke said he had made other arrangements and that their daughter would no longer require one. Her parents did not inquire as to why.
***
Once they had cleared the crowded, dirty streets of London and the view from the carriage window was replaced with rolling green hills and blue cloudless sky, Asher took hold of her delicate wrist and pulled her over to his side of the carriage.
Charlotte felt shy and uncertain in the close confines of the plush carriage despite their now fairly intimate acquaintance.
“Place yourself over my lap.” His command gently given but still with an air of supreme authority.
“Here?” Charlotte glanced at the open carriage windows and worried about the driver and tiger perched on top.
“Yes.” Once again, he would not explain his commands. He simply expected them to be obeyed. “Do not cross me within hours of our matrimony.”
Charlotte unenthusiastically draped herself across his strong thighs. Her skirts and petticoat were once again drawn up over the top of her thighs and bottom to rest against her lower back. She began to shimmy her hips up assuming he would reach around her for the ribbon securing her pantaloons. Instead he shocked her to the core by gripping the soft, sheer fabric on either sides of the seam that ran over her bottom and tearing!
Charlotte’s upper body shot upwards as she tried to glance behind her. A strong hand threaded through her locks and gently pressing down against the back of her head forced her to relax once more across his lap with her cheek against the velvet cushion.
Tearing the fabric further, Asher did not stop until her entire pert bottom was once again exposed to his greedy gaze. Threading both his hands into her bottom seam he pulled her cheeks wide open, wanting an unfettered look at the silver handle of the plug as it winked at him from its place nestled tightly up her back passage.
Charlotte’s face flamed as she could feel the cool air within the carriage fan against her most private area. Releasing one cheek, Asher used his free hand to grasp the plug’s handle and give it a small twist. Charlotte yel
ped more out of surprise and indignation than out of any real pain. Asher ignored her whimpering and continued to twist and play with the plug, loving how her bottom trembled and jiggled with each movement.
“Did my little one like having her bottom plugged?”
“No. Not at all,” simpered Charlotte.
“That is a shame since I intend to plug your tiny hole often,” he teased, giving the offending object a small tug and watching as her tight hole spasmed. “Plus, if my eyes do not deceive me, you found more indecent pleasure from my wedding present than you are letting on.”
With this, Asher pushed three fingers down between her thighs. Slowly gliding them along her slick entrance, back and forth, back and forth. Creating a pleasantly warm friction. Charlotte began to squirm. Using his middle finger, he teased her cunny lips open and stroked the inner, sensitive flesh. Swirling the tip of his finger over and around her clit making Charlotte’s hips buck.
“What…what are you…” Charlotte couldn’t complete her sentence because she was panting too hard from all the amazing sensations coursing through her.
“Shhh…no talking, just feeling.”
He continued to rub her clit in slow circles applying just the smallest amount of pressure. Charlotte began to grind against his thigh in the same rhythm as his fingers. He knew she was close.
Charlotte felt light-headed. There was a building pressure entirely different from the dull aching pressure she felt in her back passage. It kept building and building, like an ocean wave that was getting closer and closer to her with each ebb and flow.
“That’s it. That’s it. Let it come,” soothed Asher.
Charlotte let the wave overtake her. Crying out as the most deliciously warm almost floating feeling came over her. Asher chose that precise moment to tug on the anal plug. Pulling it free from her narrow passage. Charlotte screamed as the searing jolt of pain just added to the heady response she was having to his touch.
As Charlotte struggled to catch her breath and come to terms with what just happened, Asher admired the view. The entrance to her back passage was still slightly open, like a little mouth begging to be filled again. Eventually, he turned her over, cradling her in his arms as she fell asleep.
***
Sometime later, Charlotte’s garments had been returned to order and she was attempting to get to know her new husband.
“Tell me about your country estate.”
Asher described the extensive grounds, the beautiful woods, impressive stables and some of the finer features of the house.
His property sounded far grander, even by a Duke’s standard, than Charlotte had imagined. She became nervous about the heavy responsibility of running such an extensive household. When she voiced her concerns to Asher, he immediately reassured her.
“You will not be required to run the household staff or even supervise. Mrs. Burke the house keeper and Thompson our Butler have things well in hand.”
Charlotte was pleased. She really didn’t want to have to bother about such mundane duties like menu planning and servant disputes. She would much rather concentrate on planning balls and different extravagant events like hunting parties and picnics. As his Duchess, it would be expected she live in grand style. Asher, however, had different plans.
“There will be no balls or hunting parties or any such entertainments. You have had far too much of those exploits already.”
Charlotte bristled. One of the main reasons she looked forward to finally marrying was to get out from under her parents unreasonable restrictions and rules. She assumed as a married woman, she would now be able to go where she pleased, drink what she wanted and have no silly limitations on how many gowns she purchased. Her mistake was in telling Asher her assumptions.
“I want you to listen very carefully. There will be no balls. You are not permitted to drink, and I will select and purchase all your gowns.”
Charlotte stamped her foot and crossed her arms in anger. “You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” she charged.
“As a matter of fact, I can,” came his calm reply.
“If you insist on treating me like a child, I will run away!” She pouted.
“It is precisely because of that kind of impulsive, spoiled, childish behavior that you are being treated this way. You act like a child, so from this point forward, you will be treated like one.”
Charlotte sat in stunned silence. Asher continued.
“As it so happens, my little Lottie, we are more perfectly suited than you may have supposed. In addition to the obvious attraction, my particular tastes and your demeanor are wonderfully aligned. You see, my preference is for a childlike woman who can be treated as such. It is my intention to keep you as a child.” Asher paused to let his words sink in. “Your frequent crises de bebe will allow me to indulge my need to discipline and control. I believe we have already established you will get a great deal of pleasure out of the arrangement as well.”
“I don’t understand,” came her hesitant reply.
“You soon will.”
Charlotte tried to take in all she just learned. Being called a spoiled brat and told you would not be throwing big lavish parties in pretty gowns was a lot to take in.
“Lord Asherton,” she started to say. He had not given her permission yet to use the name, Asher, which she knew was what his close associates called him.
“That is another thing,” interjected Asher. “From this point forward, you will call me Papa.”
“What?”
“You will refer to me only as Papa. As far as you are concerned, I am not a husband. You are not a traditional wife or even a Duchess. You will be treated like my child, precisely as your behavior demands. As such, you will only call me Papa.”
It was that moment Charlotte threw a tantrum, a crises de bebe as Asher called it. As it so happened, they were pulling into a posting inn for the night. Ignoring her rages, for now, Asher climbed out of the carriage before his Tiger was able to open the door for him. Lowering the step, he held his hand out to Charlotte.
“Come, Lottie. You are overtired from all the excitement and the rigors of travel. We will rest here for the night.”
Charlotte slapped his hand away. “I don’t want anything from you,” she ground out before placing her foot on the step to exit the carriage on her own. The only difficulty was she missed the step. Poor Charlotte fell face first into a large mud puddle covering her travel gown with the sticky mess.
Asher laughed at her outraged shriek. “My little Lottie the muddy magpie!”
“Don’t call me that!” she raged from her ignoble position on the ground on her bum covered in dirt.
Asher just continued to laugh. He could not help it. She looked so adorable! In her agitation her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, at least where they were not smudged with dirt. Her full lower lip protruded in the cutest pout. Her hair had come loose from its pins and tumbled in glorious reddish-brown disarray around her shoulders. She was beautiful and she was all his.
Watching as she struggled to rise with her wet and muddy skirts, he once again offered her his hand. As she reached for it, he pulled back. “Call me Papa and ask me nicely.”
Charlotte stuck out her tongue in response.
“Very well.” He turned as if to leave. Hearing her struggle to get to her feet.
“Come back! Come back!” she called.
Asher faced her. “Call me Papa and ask me nicely for help.”
Reluctantly, Charlotte ground out, “Will you please help me up?” Asher stared down at her, raising a sardonic eyebrow, waiting. After a long pause, she conceded, “Papa.”
Asher held out his hand. This time she reluctantly took it and was lifted to her feet.
“Let’s get my little one into a warm bath,” he said, affectionately brushing a smudge of mud from the tip of her nose.
***
Charlotte pouted in front of the fireplace as the Inn porters lugged up bucket after bucket of hot water for her
bath. After the chambermaid brought in fresh linen towels and soap, they were finally left alone.
Asher approached her from behind. “Let’s get you out of these muddy things,” he whispered.
Charlotte closed her eyes, his warm breath sending a shiver down her back that had nothing to do with the cold, wet dress she was wearing. It was infuriating that no matter what he said or did to her, her body did not seem to care one fig! It always responded to his nearness. His mastery.
She felt a tug as he pulled the tight over-jacket from her shoulders. There was another tug as he worked the laces on her dress. Charlotte covered her corset-clad breasts as the heavy satin of her dress fell to the floor, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. Asher reached around her front, embracing her for a moment, to unknot the strings of her corset. Once he brought the strings to the back, he made short work of loosening them and releasing her from the tight, torturous restriction.
Charlotte took a deep breath of relief the moment the corset joined her dress on the floor. She hated the blasted thing.
Asher gently traced the harsh red scratches and welts the awful garment had made across her usually ivory skin. He felt a mixture of anger and relief seeing the beauty of her creamy back marred. Anger that she would subject herself to such torment especially since it was obvious her figure did not need or benefit from a corset. Relief that he would be the man to free her from such societal restrictions. That was the last corset that would ever mar his little one’s flesh. From now on when her flesh turned red, it would be from his hand for her own good, not from an unnecessary undergarment.
After pulling off her pantalettes, he gathered her into his arms and carried her to the warm, waiting bath. Charlotte knew she should feel more modesty in front of this man who for all intents and purposes was still a stranger but she did not. It was like her body was already his to command.
The water closed over her body like a silken mist as she was slowly lowered into the copper tub. Asher gave her hand a playful slap when she reached for the linen cloth and soap.