Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden 1)

“They're not supposed to be covered, sweetheart,” I said.

"What do you mean, not covered?"

“Once you're ripe with my seed, sweetheart, they'll grow large with milk, your nipples full and sore. Covering them will only cause you discomfort,” I told her.

"Don't I get a blouse?"

"Of course you do. Let's get a skirt on you first,” I said as I left her and went to the closet. She stood there, hands on her exposed breasts, stunned. She'd always covered them, hid them in the confines of a citified corset, so this new style would require serious adjustment.

“Your nipples are so pretty,” I crooned. “Look how tight and furled they are. Can you feel them getting sensitive?”

Holding the waist of the dark blue cotton skirt open for her, she put a hand on my arm to steady herself as she stepped in. I slid the fabric up her legs to her waist, buttoning it at the side as the material covered her to her ankles. All the while she watched her breasts shift and sway.

Oh, she was becoming completely docile from the effects of the ointment. The amount in the first few pills was more than normal, but never too much to overdo. Innocent as she was, she was unfamiliar with its effects—arousal and all its signs—and it had taken over quickly, just as we suspected it would.

“I don't have any bloomers,” she said, more of a statement than a complaint.

“You don't need any,” I said. “Over to the bar.”

"Why do I have to keep using the bar?" she asked.

“I could just have you put your hands on a wall and bend over, but this makes it more like a ritual. I will tend to your needs here, and it will soon become something you look forward to, bending over like this. If you require our attention, all you have to do is go to the bar and we'll know what you need. There are bars all around the house just like this one.”

“I don't think I want to be taken care of this way,” I said.

"You don't have to like it, sweetheart, you just have to do it."

Tears welled in her eyes again as she followed my direction, her breasts jiggling slightly on the way, even bent over at the waist without being told. I tossed up her skirt so I could see her pussy.

Her breasts hung down. Her exposed pussy lips were now puffy and swollen, her clit practically throbbing. The cork spread her ass cheeks nicely and stretched the membrane of her opening to its current limit.

“This is why you have no drawers, baby,” I said. “If you need me to fuck you, all you have to do is grab on to the bar. I'll lift your skirt and fill you.”

I ran my finger ever so lightly down her glistening slit, from her corked ass to her turgid clit. She cried out in pleasure, but I didn't let her linger, let her have time to assess that feeling. I pulled her back up and let her stand there, skin flushed a lovely pink as I went to get her blouse.

I held it out for her as she slipped one arm into the long sleeve, then the other. It fit over her shoulders like a normal blouse, then the white cotton wrapped low across the front of her body beneath her breasts in two long panels that crossed and wrapped around, buttoning at her lower back. It covered her like a city blouse, except that her breasts were completely exposed.

“I can't go out like this,” she wailed, looking down at herself. "This isn't a blouse!"

"This is what my wife wears."

"You don't expect me to go out in public like this, do you? To church?"

I looked at her as if she were crazy for suggesting the idea. "Of course not. You will wear a special s

carf that will cross over your breasts that also buttons in the back."

"Then why can't I wear it now?" Catherine started to cry again. I inwardly sighed at this annoyance, but knew this was how she would handle her training. I would much prefer arousal to tears, but I would have to be patient. That would come soon enough.

"Because I am your husband and I want to see your breasts. Always."

"I can't," she wailed.

“Of course you can. Soon enough, you're going to want to touch your nipples all the time. It's too much work opening your shirt up,” I said.

"Why...why would I want to do that?" she asked, her eyes glistening with tears, glancing down at her exposed chest in confusion.

I brushed my knuckles over her erect nipples.