Taming Tessa (Montana Maiden 2)

"Grab hold and don't let go." I intentionally dropped my voice to a deeper pitch and addressed her in a manner she would quickly learn meant immediate obedience on her part.

She stood directly in front of the bar and glanced over her shoulder at me in confusion. The reverend handed me a small glass jar, gave a brief nod and stepped down to stand by the sheriff.

"It's time to make you mine, darlin'." I pulled her hips back.

Of course, she resisted and squawked. Frantic eyes shot left and right. "What? Here? Now?" Her tone was shrill, panicked.

I just shook my head at her nonsense as I pulled the cork I'd chosen for this occasion out of my pocket. "Of course not. I don't fuck in public." I held up a small object for her to see.

Whispers came up from the congregation, but I doubt she heard. Only the men and married women remained to witness Tessa's corking; all children, unmarried ladies and certain family members like Mr. Bowers had left after the vows were spoken. The community of Liberty shared very specific rules that were strictly enforced, but they also kept them very closely guarded.

"It's time for your cork." A feeling akin to elation shot through me as I said those words. Like other men of Liberty, I'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Waiting with Tessa in mind, in my dreams, in my fantasies. Waiting for her to be finally, and irrevocably, mine.

Tessa's eyes widened. "My...my what?"

I placed my hands gently on her shoulders. "Your cork. All married ladies have their asses filled."

"Her a....what?" Tessa glanced furtively over her shoulder at the congregation and the married women who remained. Obviously, her mother had sheltered her well. Most ladies gave nods of encouragement, but no doubt a few who’d been subjected to Tessa's verbal barbs at one time or another were now enjoying her discomfort.

I was enjoying this immensely. Without her realizing it, she'd been pushing me toward the altar for years. Now that she had me here, I was the one now in control. She would be tamed by my hand and this would be the first step. I just had to be gentle about it, perhaps even reward her once the task was done.

Slowly, I turned her around to face the bar, grabbing her skirt at her hip as I went, slowly working the back of the garment up. She resisted, using her hands to push it back down, holding it securely in place. "No. This isn't right. I refuse." Her eyes were brilliant blue in anger. Bright slashes of color brightened her cheeks.

Leaning forward, I spoke quietly in her ear. "I'm your husband, not your parents, Tessa. You don't have to fear me."

Her blue eyes blinked, then darted toward her mother in the front row. "But...but I thought my body was for you." She flushed prettily.

"Oh, darlin', your body is just for me. I look forward to being alone so I can take you just as I've dreamed. But some things are allowed to be seen. Witnessed. Your first cork is one of them."

"But--"

"Put your hands on the bar, Tessa," I interrupted. "Be a good girl and when everyone's gone, I'll give you a special treat."

With shaking fingers, she acquiesced and grasped the wood. Once again, I pulled her hips back and unceremoniously pushed her skirt up in back. The front remained in place, long down to the tips of her shoes so she remained covered from the view of the congregation.

"They might know what I'm doing, darlin', but no one can see," I leaned in and murmured. Most of the men had been in just my position before and all the women had been in Tessa's place. MacKenzie and the other unmarried men in the room were probably considering how they'd tackle this situation when their turn came.

I undid the tie on her white cotton drawers and let them slip down to the floor. Oh, she was lovely. Her skin was a pure, alabaster white. The round globes of her ass were a perfect heart shape and I could see just a glimpse of her pussy peeking out. Gripping one hip, I pulled her back even more.

There. That's just how I wanted her. I took a moment - I'd earned it after the years of waiting - to look my fill. Her pussy lips were dark pink, a striking contrast to the dark hair that surrounded it. And her tight rosebud was so perfect and ready to be stretched.

I leaned forward again. "So beautiful, darlin'." Goose bumps rose on her delicate skin. She was not unaffected.

I dipped my fingers in the jar of ointment, placed one hand on her hip and touched her ass.

"Oh, Cole," she cried out, her hips shifting at the contact.

Without waiting nor offering her time to fight me, I pushed my greased finger gently into her hole. I circled a bit, but didn't linger to let her relax. I knew she wouldn't no matter how gently I worked her. So I fought the muscles there and pushed my way in. Her ass was no competition for my probing fingers and I slipped in to my first knuckle. At the same time, I slid my thumb forward to find her clitoris, hard and protruding from her folds. She gasped at the contact. Had she never touched herself there before? Was this a completely new sensation for her? The idea made me very possessive.

She thrashed her head as I worked her front and back, her hair coming out of its pins and she cried out. Taking the cork I'd chosen for this occasion--a small one that would acknowledge my dominance of her but not too large as to scare her--I coated it with additional ointment from the jar, then pushed it against the tight opening.

With one one hand strumming her clit, I didn't need to hold her down. I worked the cork into her carefully, forward and back until it slid into place. Shaped like a wooden spool for thread, it stretched her ass open, but did not go into her deeply. She groaned at the intrusion, yet didn't move away because she'd miss the brush of my fingers against her greedy clit. I tugged on the cork once, twice, to make sure it was secure and seated, and then ran a fingertip around the stretched ring of muscle to make sure it wasn't hurting her. Discomfort was expected and anticipated, but pain was not.

"Like that, darlin'?" I flicked her clit ever so gently.

"Mmm," she murmured.

I was more than pleased with the final result, the cork peeking out, her clit responding so eagerly. I'd assumed Tessa would put up a fight; I'd never witnessed a corking where the woman didn't. She was used to having her way and I knew that unless I took control from her right now, she'd think to continue with her highhanded ways. One way to curb that was a good old-fashioned corking. An easier way was to bring her pleasure. To have her focused on