I heard him shake the bottle then a tiny glug as he poured a little lubricant out.
I waited. I couldn’t help but tense a little.
I flinched when his cold, lubed finger prodded its way between my cheeks. He held them open with his other hand, stroking the skin with his thumb until I’d stopped wriggling.
‘The more relaxed you are, the better this will be,’ he assured me. ‘Sink into the mattress, love. Let your bones rest.’
Somehow his voice combined with the gentle stroking of his thumb began to exert a hypnotic effect and I stopped bucking when his lubricated finger delved deeper, burrowing down towards that tiny aperture.
He circled it, lower and slower, moving in towards his target in infinitesimal degrees. He took so long in this considerate priming that I began to move from anxious to turned on. There was definitely a pleasurable sensation building, rather to my surprise. And I felt so small and helpless, like a patient on a table with a doctor who knew what was best for me and would brook no argument. I was seeing it all now. I was meant to be submissive.
A rebel voice inside me still insisted, This is outrageous, he can’t do this to you, but guilt was going to have be deferred. Guilt and shame and all those things … How topsy-turvy it all was. You were supposed to be punished because you were guilty of wrong-doing. You were supposed to feel shame for what you had done. And here I was, feeling guilty and ashamed because I wanted the punishment.
What had gone wrong inside me, that I felt this way?
Was it wrong at all?
What was right?
I no longer knew, but I did care. Just not right now. Not while Dan was pushing the tip of a finger into the tiny forbidden ring, making me gasp and flinch.
‘How’s that?’ he whispered.
‘Just so strange,’ I replied.
I wasn’t able to explain it. It didn’t hurt as such and it wasn’t a blissfully pre-orgasmic feeling either. It was just … different. Physically, it wasn’t that amazing, but mentally it took me in its tight embrace and whisked me away into a place where I was absolutely dominated. I could think of nothing else but what was being done to me.
He didn’t rush. The finger made a very slow, very exploratory foray inside. From the initial breach to knuckle-deep seating probably took a good five minutes. I felt that I was being tested and I made sure he knew if he hurt me or gave me pleasure. I owed him this honesty.
‘OK,’ he said, twisting his finger this way and that, making my stomach flutter in a kind of panic. ‘I think you can take it.’
If the entry of his finger had felt strange, it was nothing compared to its exit. I felt as if he was pulling part of me out with it and my muscles weren’t happy. They tensed around him, as if they wanted him for a prisoner.
‘Keep relaxed,’ he admonished, leaving me empty.
But not for long.
‘This won’t feel the same,’ he told me, unnecessarily.
‘I think I knew that,’ I said.
‘Do you think you’re in a good position to get sarcastic with me, Pip?’
He jiggled the end of the plug between my cheeks. My muscles contracted and I sucked in air at its coldness.
‘Uh, no.’
‘Right. Now, hold on. I’m going in.’
Oh, this was a different proposition to his finger entirely! The blunt tip opened me up but, instead of maintaining that comfortable level of accessibility, the plug made me stretch and stretch some more, until my eyes were watering.
‘Oh, ow, this stings!’ I complained, twisting my hips this way and that.
He put a hand on the small of my back, keeping me still.
‘It’ll pass,’ he soothed. ‘The widest part is in now. All you have to do is accept the rest.’
He was right; the rest of it slid in with comparative ease. In fact, it felt as if I was pulling it in of my own accord, even though I wasn’t. A pat on my bottom to make sure the flat end was properly wedged between my cheeks made it clear that I was now fully and completely plugged.