by Ashe Barker
He leaned over her to murmur his reply close to her ear. His breath was warm on her neck. “Ye can bear it, Janie. An’ ye will. Ye will go on bearin’ it until ye see the sense o’ what I am suggestin’.”
She shook her head, and tears flowed unchecked to soak the blanket beneath her. “I cannot. It would never work...”
“I disagree. Ye must reconsider, lass.”
“Please, listen to me. Let me explain...”
He straightened. “Aye, that seems fair. Ye shall explain, then, after we have finished here. Ye may tell me when ye’re ready for the next stroke.”
Faced with no alternative, Jane managed to utter the words he wanted. Just four more strokes. She could endure that. She would have to.
“Thank you. Please, may I have the next one?”
The next four strokes all merged into one. The agony built, relentless, bitter, unceasing. Her throat burned from screaming, her tears flowed, she dragged in each breath only to have it expelled from her lungs each time the heavy belt thudded against her flesh.
But, at last, she reached nine. They were done.
Mercifully, Robbie thought so too. He set the belt down on the bed, then laid his palm on her scorched bottom. “Ye do glow a pretty shade o’ red, Janie. Your bottom is made for spankin’.”
She groaned. “You are hurting me.”
“Aye, I ken that. But we are no’ quite done yet.”
“But, you said nine. I counted nine...”
“True. Your pretty arse is suitably punished on the outside, but I mean tae leave ye smartin’ on the inside as well.”
She was utterly perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” He slid his hand further down to trail his fingertips through her folds. “Ah, yes, ye may be hurtin’. But ye’re still wet for me. Such a slut, Janie...”
“I am not. It is just... just...”
He caressed her again, then placed his hand close to her face. There was no mistaking the moisture smearing his fingers. “Can ye deny this, lass? If I am no’ mistaken, ye seem tae be in need o’ some attention.”
“Let me go. I do not want—”
She bit off her denial when he returned to his work, this time sliding two fingers deep inside her. Jane moaned, resenting her body’s betrayal at the same time as she yearned for his touch.
What was it about this bloody Scot that had her so twisted in knots? He had but to touch her and her body was not her own.
He continued to slide his fingers in and out of her tight sheath while she writhed against his hand. Her arousal built, threatened to peak.
“Oh, God, I need... Robbie, please...”
“I ken what ye need, lass, but yer cunny shall have tae wait. I need tae attend tae this hole first.” He pulled his fingers from her channel, then gently parted her tender buttocks to expose her most private place.
“Robbie! What are you doing?” Jane was stunned, utterly baffled.
“If ye can be still an’ try no’ tae fight me, this will be much easier on ye.”
His response did nothing to allay her fears or her confusion. Jane began to tug once more at the bonds holding her motionless.
Robbie dropped a sharp slap onto her already smarting bottom. “I said, be still.”
“No! I do not want... Let me go...”
“Listen tae me, Janie.” His voice had lowered again, that gentle but determined tone that never failed to grasp and hold her attention.
Jane peered at him over her shoulder, the shock of submitting to his belt receding in the face of this new and even more bewildering ordeal. “I... I am listening,” she whispered.
He pressed the tip of his finger against the tight ring of muscle that barred the way into her most intimate channel. Jane squealed when her entrance relaxed enough to permit him to sink his finger into her, as far as the first knuckle.
“What are you doing? Not there. Please...”
“Am I hurtin’ ye?”
“No, but—”
“I mean tae be gentle wi’ ye, but this will hurt, even so. ‘Tis inevitable, the first time.”
“What are you going to do?” She could barely comprehend what his answer might be,
“Ye will take two fingers, then three. I shall open ye thoroughly, an’ when I consider ye sufficiently well prepared, ye will take my cock. In here.”
Jane was beyond stunned. This was madness, utter lunacy. His suggestion was wicked, indecent, and was not even possible. She blurted the first thing to come into her head. “You cannot. You are too big.”
“Well, ‘twill be a stretch for ye, ‘tis true. An’ as I said, ye will yelp a bit, I daresay. But it can most certainly be done, an’ it will be done. Here, now. I intend tae teach ye how it feels tae have your bottom punished inside an’ out.”
As though to demonstrate his point, he withdrew his finger, and before her astonished gaze he coated it and the one next to it in butter. “I am no’ a complete brute,” he explained, winking at her. “This will help tae ease my way an’ make matters a tad easier for ye.”
He was serious. He actually bloody meant it. Jane writhed in her bonds, her attempts to be free finding a new and desperate urgency but her efforts were to no avail at all.
“Ye may fight me all ye like, Janie, but the end will be the same. Whereas, if ye submit to that which ye cannae prevent, if ye can manage tae relax, an’ let yer arse go slack an’ let me in, you will no’ find it so difficult.”
Did he think her quite daft? As deluded as him? “You mean to tear me apart and expect me to just lie still and let you do it. I shall scream. Someone will come...”
“Ye have been screamin’ fit tae raise the rafters this last quarter of an hour or so, Janie, and no one has arrived yet tae break down my door. ‘Tis well known that ye had earned a spankin’, and ye can be quite sure there isnae a soul here at Mortain not fully aware that ye have been thoroughly thrashed this mornin’. An’ there will be nae tearin’ anyone apart. I told ye, I meant tae be gentle an’ I will no’ do ye any harm. Ye will be stretched, an’ it will hurt, ‘tis true enough, but I shall take as much time as is needed an’ I willnae injure ye. I give ye my word on that.”
“But—”
“Do ye believe me, Jane?”
“I... I...” She was at a loss. What did he expect from her?
“Have I ever harmed ye, Jane?”
“No, but—”
“I shall ask ye again. Do ye believe me that ye will come tae no harm at my hands?”
His tone was compelling. Jane ceased her futile protests to properly consider his words. “Well, no. Not yet,” she conceded. “But... this?”
“I give ye my word I will do ye no injury. Apart from tae your pride, o’ course.”
“But, it is... wicked. Sinful.”
He grinned. “I dinnae agree. Ye’re tae be my wife, so nothing which passes between us is wicked or a sin.”
“Intimate, then. Private...” It was only after she had responded that it occurred to her that she should have challenged his assumption that they would be wed.
“Intimacy is good, is it no’?”
“No. I mean, yes, but...” Jane paused, then, “Please, Robbie. I am sorry. You do not need to do this.”
“Pleadin’ wi’ me will do no good, Janie. Ye have nae choice regardin’ what is tae happen tae ye. You do have a choice, though, as tae the manner of it.”
“I do not know what you want me to do,” she whimpered.
“I want ye tae submit. Dinnae resist, dinnae fight. Let me in wi’out a struggle.”
“If... if I do that... If I can do that, will you promise not to hurt me?”
“I have promised no’ tae harm ye, and I will keep my word whether ye struggle or no’. I will hurt ye, though. That is a different matter, and I think ye ken the difference.”
She did, though the distinction had been somewhat lost on her until now. He hurt her when he spanked her. Dear Lord, did he hurt her! Yet, she had always emerged from su
ch encounters sore but uninjured. Unharmed. He was telling her that this forbidden, shameful thing he meant to do would leave no permanent scars. She would take no lasting damage from this, however painful, however humiliating the ordeal might be. It would be over, eventually, and she would survive it intact.
And, Jane believed him. He had never lied to her and she did not think he was being untruthful now. Right at this moment she probably loved and hated him in equal measure, but above all she trusted him.
And she also believed him when he told her she had no choice. This was happening. There was nothing she could do to prevent it. He would not be dissuaded; he would not take pity on her however much she pleaded. And so, as was her usual way when confronted with the inevitable, Jane would make the best of it.
“Very well,” she murmured.
“Jane?”
“I said, very well. I shall not struggle. You... you may do as you will.”
He was silent for several moments. Jane lay still, tense, waiting. She startled when he swept the hair from the nape of her neck and kissed her.
“Good girl, my wee Janie. I love ye, ye ken that.”
“I know,” she groaned. “I... I love you, too. Sometimes.”
He chuckled, straightened, then dropped another playful slap on her tender bottom. “I think ye love me all the time, though there are occasions when ye’re no’ quite sure how tae show it. Shall we get started then?”
Chapter Twenty
There was something absolutely bewitching about a woman’s arse, in Robbie’s view. He took his time in admiring the delightful parts of Jane’s anatomy displayed for his enjoyment. She was beguiling, innocent in her fearful virginity, sweet temptation itself presented for his sheer delight.
Robbie McGregor was not unappreciative, and he was not about to squander this opportunity. Jane’s first encounter with having a cock seated deep in her arse might be intended as a punishment, but he was determined that it would not be the last time he got to fuck her there. When next he parted her buttocks to impale her on his rod she would approach the experience with considerably more enthusiasm, he meant to see to that.
He smeared a fresh coating of butter on his fingers, then, using his other hand to open her to him, he slowly inserted both fingers right to the hilt.
Jane let out a low moan.
He stopped, just left his fingers where they were and waited for her to become if not welcoming, at least accustomed to the new sensations. When he judged her to be ready to accept what was happening, he started to drive his digits in and out of her rear hole.
Jane moaned again but did not tighten her channel or writhe about. Robbie was encouraged and twisted his hand to swirl his fingers within her, widening her passage as gently as he could. This act, at least for an anal virgin such as Jane, was painful enough without adding to the discomfort by being over-hasty or rough.
He pulled out, recoated his fingers, three of them this time, and eased them back inside.
Now he knew she was feeling the stretch, would be struggling with the pressure he exerted on her tight ring as the entrance was forced open, made to slacken and allow this intrusion. He took his time, went slowly, with infinite care, turning and swirling his hand until eventually all three fingers were seated deep in her arse.
“Is this hurtin’ ye, Janie?” He knew it must be.
She nodded, and tears spilled from beneath her tightly closed eyelids.
“Try to loosen your arse. Let me in. Can ye feel how gently I am caressin’ ye, Janie? How beautiful ye are?” He slowly turned his hand, one way, then the other, the friction easing as the butter did its work. Then he slid in and out several times and noted that each entry was easier than the last. With his free hand he traced and stroked the outer rim of her widening hole, teasing her into greater submission.
“Oh... Oh, that feels... odd.”
“Is it still hurtin’?”
She shook her head. “Not... exactly.”
Robbie allowed himself a satisfied smirk. She was such a sensual little thing, a rare find. Despite all her protestations about wickedness and sin, she was as aroused by this as he was. Well, almost. They would work on it.
He reached for the butter dish again and scooped a generous dollop onto the fingers of his free hand. He used this to smear all over his engorged cock. He was glad he had possessed the foresight to wear his kilt this morning since he had no need to bother with the encumbrance of removing his trousers. The Scottish traditional dress was surely perfectly designed to ease the way to a decent fucking.
He slipped his fingers from her and set the head of his cock at her entrance. Jane clearly appreciated the new sensation, and gasped. He was aware that she tensed, perhaps expecting him to force his way in, to be rough and brutal in his handling of her despite his promises.
“Trust me,” he reminded her, at the same time rocking his hips to work the bulbous crown of his erection inside her.
His cock was wider than his three fingers had been. Her tight entrance was again stretched. Jane’s fingers clenched into fists. She moaned, then let out a small cry when he finally breached her taut hole.
God’s balls, so tight. So. Fucking. Tight.
He held still, allowing both of them to appreciate the moment, she to adjust, he to exert a steely control over his burgeoning response. It would not do to find his release before he had properly filled her and taught her to accept his cock.
He rocked his hips again, found another half inch, then another.
Jane was panting, her lips parted, her eyes still tight shut. She clawed at the mattress. Despite all her best efforts, and he did wholly believe that she was trying, her body was strung tight as a bow.
He knew a way he might ease this for her. Robbie reached beneath her body and found her clitty, swollen and plump, slick with her juices. He took it between his finger and thumb and tugged lightly.
“Aaagh...” Jane let out a strangled cry, and it was not one of pain.
Robbie took advantage of her sensual response and drove his cock deeper. Her body was less tense, he slid forward more easily. One final push...
He stroked her sensitive nubbin again, dragging another moan of ecstasy from Jane, and finally rammed his cock home. He was there, fully seated, balls-deep in her arse.
“Ye have done it, Janie. Ye have taken all o’ me.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear, “An’ ye’re still alive, as far as I can tell.”
“It hurts...” she whined.
“I know. But, there is pleasure too, is there no’?”
“Pleasure? I do not—”
He halted her denial by applying his finger to her clitty once more and stroking the quivering nub. Jane shuddered and groaned.
“Oh, dear Lord, I believe I might...”
“Ye shall have your release if I decide tae permit it, and no’ otherwise. This is a punishment, I would remind ye.”
“But Robbie, I cannot help it.”
“Ye had better try, unless ye want tae feel my belt across your arse once more.”
“This is cruel. You are doing it on purpose.”
“Aye.” Considering her sufficiently at ease with this new and unfamiliar experience, he drew back his cock then drove it home once more. Jane gasped and clenched around his throbbing erection.
Christ, this will not take long...
He thrust again, then again. Each long, driving stroke sent Jane into a writhing frenzy, as far as her restraints would permit. He alternated filling her arse with stroking her greedy clitty, squeezing it, tugging it, pinching, scratching, each touch of his fingers urging her on, teasing her into a fever of lusting need.
“Robbie, Robbie...” she wailed. “I cannot help myself. It is too much...”
Aye. Probably.
But he did not relent. “Control yourself, Janie, or ye shall feel the lick o’ my belt again.”
He was fucking her hard now. Robbie watched, entranced, as his cock slid in and out, sinking into her right to the hilt then
withdrawing almost completely. It was a truly glorious sight, one which he was minded to share.
“Your arse looks so pretty, wrapped around my cock...” He placed his thumbs on either side of her anus and gently eased her entrance wider before ramming his cock in hard. “Tell me, Janie, are ye still enjoyin’ yourself?”
Her response came in the form of a strangled moan.
Robbie leaned across and loosened the kerchief securing her right hand. “There, Janie. Now ye can pleasure yourself if ye wish, an’ find your release.”
She took no further urging. Jane shoved her hand beneath her body and moments later found her target. Robbie remained motionless for the few seconds it took for her climax to ripple through her body, the waves of pleasure caressing his rigid cock.
That was all it took. With a guttural moan and one final, sharp thrust, his balls contracted to shoot ribbons of his hot seed into her quivering channel.
* * *
They lay motionless, both face down on the bed. Robbie draped his arm across Jane’s shoulders. She shifted, eased herself closer to him. He leaned over to bury his nose in her hair.
“How are ye, Janie?” he inquired softly.
She shrugged. “Sore,” was the only response.
It was to be expected. He turned his head to regard her punished bottom, glowing pink and crisscrossed with bright crimson welts.
“Your arse looks beautiful. Would ye like tae see?”
“Beautiful? But, it hurts so much...”
“Aye, but a man likes tae admire his handiwork.”
“Will you admire it again tomorrow? And the day after?”
“Ah, yes. That.” He paused, then, “Did ye no’ say something about wantin’ tae explain? If ye have powerful reasons why ye cannae wed me, I shall be pleased tae hear them, lass. And once I ken the why of it, I shall decide whether a daily spanking is the best strategy for dealing with ye.”
She shook her head, still not ready, it seemed, to turn over and face him. “You will think me stupid,” she muttered.
He had not expected that of her. Jane had shown herself to be anything but, in all the weeks he had known her.
“Why would I be thinkin’ such a thing? I ken ye tae be sharp, cunning, an’ resourceful.”
