by Emily Tilton
Shame and fear and…
And arousal: arousal so strong she felt herself getting the towel under her whipped and still rather sore bottom damp.
“Go into the bedroom and kneel on the bed, right at the edge. Then bend over and put your elbows on the bed, just like you did when I whipped you, but spread your knees this time, so I can see your pussy and your anus as soon as I come into the room. I’ll get myself ready in your cunt while I lube your bottom-hole, and then I’ll finish in your bottom. I’ll be gentle in your anus tonight, and it won’t take long for me to come there, but it’s important to me that you open to me back there tonight.”
The battle between her body’s craving to do as her husband said and her mind’s rejection of his authority to order these lewd things—government granted though that authority might be—left her sitting glued in her chair. She shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off Eric’s.
“Lily?” he said in a soft voice that nevertheless seemed to contain his considerable experience in ensuring his commands were obeyed by those under his command. “Do you need me to make things clearer? Do I have to tell you what will happen if you don’t get ready for anal now?”
“Why?” she asked simply, still shaking her head. It represented the only thing she could think of to ask, the only thing that might stop him, or delay him, before he decided she needed another lesson with his belt—or with something worse.
“Why what, Lily?” Eric’s brows knit slightly in displeasure.
“Why…” She hesitated. “Why my bottom? Can’t you… I mean, when you… when I… sucked it…” Lily felt her face turn red, remembering. “Or, in my… in front…”
Through this incoherent little speech Eric’s face remained impassive. The beginnings of anger had faded from his expression, and that patience had returned that Lily saw there so often. Her husband had become used to being obeyed, but perhaps that had come about because he had waited so patiently to arrive in a position to give orders.
“In your cunt, you mean? You’d rather I come inside your cunt? Or maybe your mouth?”
Lily nodded, though she felt like the real difficulty didn’t lie in the specific place Eric wanted to put his cock but in the way he clearly expected that his bride must accept his hard penis wherever he chose to thrust it into her. And maybe not even in that, but rather in the way she herself felt about it.
“Like I said, honey, it’s important to me that I open your sweet little bottom with my cock tonight.”
“But why?” She felt almost desperate now, though she knew that even if he answered her question it wouldn’t change anything—and her face had gotten terribly hot when he called it her sweet little bottom.
“Because it’s your most private place, Lily, and because you don’t want me in there. Knowing that you have to have my cock up your bottom when I want to put it there will help you be a good girl and an obedient wife.”
The blush in Lily’s cheeks seemed to burn, and to her surprise she did understand, though that understanding seemed terribly shameful. She felt her brow pucker, and her nose prickled with tears as she looked at her husband’s calm face.
She rose, looking down at the table now because of how conscious she had again become of being naked. Only an hour before it had seemed worse to be in lingerie than to be utterly bare before Eric, but now she longed, perversely, even for those lacy white things, now put away except for the panties, which she would have to wash by hand tomorrow, on his instruction. She knew his eyes were roving over her body, calmly enjoying the sight of her bare breasts with the nipples that had become traitorously erect at the thought of having his cock in her bottom and of the hairlessness he had enforced between her legs. Lily turned to go into the bedroom, and knew her husband’s gaze had shifted to the shapely young backside he would enter in a few minutes, to take his pleasure in her tightness.
She understood: she had suddenly imagined being at a restaurant, or at a party, and saying something incautious or disrespectful. She imagined Eric saying softly into her ear, In your bottom tonight, Lily. A long, hard ride, to remind you. Patting her bottom meaningfully through the skirt she must wear.
After tonight, she would be a young bride who got it anally. Who even on her wedding night had taken her husband’s penis in the secret flower of her rear end, because he wanted to have her there in order to teach her a very important lesson about his rights and her duties.
She knelt on the edge of the bed, bent herself into the posture he had commanded. She spread her knees, feeling the air move against her most private places and thinking yet again about how she would look to her husband, arranged as he had ordered.
He left her there for long minutes, as if to think about her position, and what he would do when he came to her.
And she did think: she thought about her realization, her understanding of what Commander Eric Burton’s patience meant, in combination with his dominant desire. She felt her exposure and the way he would, as he had said he must, see her proffered backside as soon as he came through the door. She thought about how Eric’s patience and his dominance together meant that he would, paradoxically, cherish the girl he taught always to give him his way—the girl he undertook to discipline when she strayed from the path of obedience.
By submitting so shamefully to him, she would bind him to her just as she now felt bound to him. His desire for her bottom—to make her take his hardness in her anus, where the pleasure would all belong to him—and his need to open her there on her wedding night, meant that Lily had her own power, over him. He needed to see her kneeling and bent over, pussy and bottom-hole yielded up for fucking.
“So pretty,” he said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him come in, though he wasn’t a man who moved silently: Lily had lost herself in thoughts of submission. “Your whipping marks are already fading, honey.”
Lily had no idea what to say, so she said, “Thank you, sir,” which seemed to be something that always worked. She realized with a skipped heartbeat that she liked saying it.
She did hear his footfalls now, coming closer, and then she felt his fingers on her pussy, rubbing gently and possessively. She tried for a moment not to whimper or move her hips, but she failed in both things: it just felt too good. She did move, she did emit a little whiny moan, hoping he wouldn’t stop even though she still felt sore and a little raw down there. She even hoped he would put his cock inside, though she knew that would hurt—but probably only in the beginning, the way it had the first time.
“I’m so glad I didn’t have to put a plug in you and spank your cunt, honey,” Eric said softly.
The words, recalling that earlier discussion about the marital punishments in regard to which Lily had seemed to herself unable not to keep demanding more information, took her entirely by surprise. The little gush of wetness down there, and the little clench, which made Eric chuckle, embarrassed her all the more because of how involuntary they were. Did she want to have a plug in her bottom and have a spanking there? How could she bear that?
Something in his voice, too, told her that he knew that secret, and liked knowing it. But when Eric spoke again, he only said, “So nice and wet. So ready for cock.” Then he entered her, his hands on her hips, riding in and out easily as Lily moaned under him, her face turned to the bedclothes.
There was something in his right hand, a small bottle that she heard him flick open. He kept riding, moving his cock inside her, but now only his left hand controlled Lily’s waist. With the fingers of his right, as she, finally beyond blushing it seemed, cried out at the touch, he started to lube her anus.
“There we go,” he said gently—as he had promised, she remembered, though it had seemed practically the least important part of his declaration that he would have her anally. His fingers moved gently, too, and Oh, no it felt so good, just as it had felt good when he first put a finger in there, despite the shame and even despite the discomfort.
It felt good because it seemed there was a physical pl
easure there, but even more because he had decided to do it, without regard for what she had thought was right or natural, growing up. It wouldn’t feel as good when his cock was there; Lily could tell that, because even with lube her little flower remained very small and very tight and very inexperienced.
“Open, honey. Push, and open. You know how.”
She did: she pushed, and then he had the head of his cock there, and he had pushed it in, and she cried out because even though she could tell he was indeed being as gentle as he could, it hurt in there despite the way the pleasure did linger.
“Rub your clit, Lily,” he commanded, as he had when he first fucked her pussy. She obeyed instantly, thrusting her right hand down and supporting herself on her left elbow alone. She made mewling sounds that came to her ears ambiguously, balanced between pleasure and pain, and very, very submissive, as Eric pushed further in, then began to move steadily, though slowly and carefully, in and out of her bottom, riding her there with his hands controlling her hips, just as he had ridden a few moments earlier in her pussy.
“That’s so nice and tight,” he said in a strained voice. “You’re going to make me come very soon, you naughty girl.”
Lily whimpered, sobbed.
“Shh. Just take it, honey. Just take my cock. There we go. There we go.”
His pace became faster, less gentle. Lily rubbed her clit more and more firmly, biting her lip, trying to be a good girl so that her husband would come in her most private place, and the burning hardness would leave her and let her little anus close.
He held her hips very firmly for a long moment, and thrust himself in at full length. Lily gasped: the feeling of fullness seemed too much, the burning of her tiny ring too hot. Eric’s body went still, and then his cock jerked inside her and she felt it spurt his seed deep into her, where it didn’t belong and would plant nothing. The very thought of that contravention of nature, though, seemed to arouse Lily more, and she whimpered in submission and tried to open herself to her husband’s impaling manhood even further.
Chapter Seventeen
The report Commander Burton filed about his honeymoon with Lily James Burton, his punishment bride, satisfied Dr. Luke Fredrickson thoroughly.
Lily has responded very well to marital discipline. As you might expect, she did take some further encouragement, and a little added severity, to come to terms with her new life as a married woman, but after I whipped her things seemed to fall in place for her quickly. When the time came for anal sex on our wedding night, Lily seemed to struggle a bit with grasping the need to submit to her husband’s wishes in the bedroom, but I feel pretty sure that I helped her figure things out. I didn’t have to punish her again in order to get her to obey me, and she opened nicely for sex though of course her anus is still very tight.
Lucky man, Luke thought.
I continued to train her back there for the rest of the week. The weather in the mountains was so nice that I was able to have anal sex with Lily outdoors several times—that seemed to teach her very effectively to respect my authority. I had her prepare me in her mouth and then use lube, which I made her carry at all times in her pocket, to get her anus ready. Having to open to my penis that way, outside where she would feel that someone might see her submitting anally to her husband, over a moss-covered rock or up against a tree (though no one ever did) seemed to help her accept her new status—maybe most important because of how aroused it got her despite her blushes when I told her to lower her panties under the little hiking skirt I made her wear.
We had sex at least twice a day, as you recommended—though obviously I would have done that even without the recommendation. Lily’s vagina and anus were both quite sore all week, so we couldn’t hike as far as I would have liked, but she’s becoming used to regular sex now. Her oral skills are also coming along nicely: she accepts my penis nearly to the back of her throat now without gagging, and I can enjoy her there for as long as I wish, ejaculating into her mouth or on her face if I choose to do that rather than moving on to her vagina or anus.
All in all, Lily is an excellent wife so far. If I’m not mistaken, we’ll see you at the White House on Friday. I look forward to letting you hear from Lily herself what she thinks of her first months as a married woman.
* * *
Luke did indeed feel a good deal of curiosity about Lily’s adjustment to her new life of marital discipline. He had of course had no doubt that that life represented the one likeliest to make her happy in the long run. If Eric Burton had indeed been able to train her so well, so quickly, though, the man was even better—and more enviable, for that reason—than Luke had supposed.
The moment at the end of the wedding ceremony, when the commander had walked out of the Lacquer Room with his bride, leaving Mrs. Lowry of the press office without the quotes she wanted, had made him wonder if the commander were perhaps a little more willful than his file had indicated. Dr. Thayer had been anxious, as had Luke himself, but the president himself, apparently appreciative of strong-willed men, had given their departure his blessing, and Mrs. Lowry’s protests had ceased.
Now, perhaps as a gesture of admiration for Commander Burton, the president had invited them to this state dinner. The public-relations program to boost the efficacy of the marriage under disciplinary circumstances provisions continued, clearly, and the president wanted the commander as its cynosure. Luke felt that really he should serve that function, as the expert, but at least he would be in attendance and could see how Lily had come along.
Lily, her hair now almost down to the nape of her neck after three months of marriage, looked stunningly beautiful in a blue cocktail dress that brought out the color of her eyes, as she walked across the floor of the White House ballroom on the arm of her officer husband. She had a tight smile on her face, as if she knew she would have to talk to the doctor whose humiliating examination of her had started all this but she didn’t like it very much.
Luke supposed he could count that as good training, considering that she undoubtedly still hated him, but he did find himself criticizing the commander inwardly for not teaching his wife to look at a man in authority, as Luke was, with more submission. The little smile on Lily’s face irritated him: she seemed to say with it that she had moved beyond his control.
“Dr. Fredrickson,” said Commander Burton. “Good evening.”
“Luke, please,” he replied with an easy friendliness and an outstretched hand, which Burton took. He turned to Lily. “Hello, Lily,” he said, making it clear that even if she was now married to an officer of the peacekeeping force, he knew she was a naughty girl whom he had examined naked, had forced to a submissive orgasm.
Lily stiffened and looked up at her husband. In her gaze at the commander Luke could see all the training that he had failed to observe in the tight little smile.
“Say hello, Lily,” Burton, resplendent in his blue uniform jacket bedecked with medals, said.
“Hello, Doctor,” Lily said, turning to Luke. She clearly tried very hard to be gracious, but what Luke saw most strongly was her struggle, and it irritated him still further.
Luke knew he should probably restrain himself, but he’d had two martinis already that night, hobnobbing with the men and women who could influence the awarding of government grant money. His lowered inhibitions came together now with his envy of Burton, an emotion he would easily have suppressed in himself under different circumstances and which he knew to be unworthy of his exalted position and expert status.
He looked down at Lily with his eyes set in an even more dominant expression, which he combined with a hint of mock sympathy. “I hear you had quite a honeymoon, Lily,” he said. “Were you sore for a long while after you got back? I hear you had some very thorough outdoor training, both up front and in the rear, if you take my meaning.”
Lily gasped, her face instantly red. Feeling satisfaction at last at the way her hand closed convulsively on the commander’s jacket sleeve, he turned to share the little moment of dom
inance with Burton himself and found the man looking at him with a face so dark with wrath that Luke found himself taking an involuntary step backward.
For a moment Luke feared the officer might actually strike him here in the White House ballroom, but the president and the first lady came up to the little group at just that moment, all smiles. Burton’s face recovered some of its good humor as greetings and introductions took place. Luke saw, though, that the president could tell something was wrong; Lily was trying to keep her emotions in check as well, but when she looked at her husband, her brow puckered with concern. The first lady looked into the younger woman’s face and frowned herself.
Luke felt perhaps he had avoided the consequences of his rash attempt to dominate Lily, who—he reasoned to himself—should never feel herself immune from domination by the doctor who made her punishment match with her handsome officer. But as soon as the initial hellos had passed, Burton said to him, “Dr. Fredrickson, a word in private, please.”
“Commander?” the president said, puzzled. “Is something wrong?”
Burton’s eyes narrowed. Luke, his heart beating more quickly now, could tell that something unpleasant was in the offing. “I don’t think so, Mr. President,” he said, trying to stem the tide. He would apologize, he supposed, and all would be well. “Commander Burton and I just need to confer about—”
“Actually, Mr. President,” Burton interrupted. “I would appreciate it if you could listen in on something. I don’t want it to go unwitnessed.” He turned to the first lady. “Mrs. Wanamaker, could I ask you to take care of Mrs. Burton for a few moments?”
“Certainly, commander,” said Melanie Wanamaker, and took hold of Lily’s hand to lead her off for a tête-à-tête.