Confessions of a Kinky Wife

Now it was all the way in, it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But it was hard to ignore the feeling of it, a hard and remorseless presence inside my most private space. I could see why it was recommended as a punishment. And this was the smallest one!

‘Tell me how you feel,’ said Dan, massaging my bum cheeks. Every time he drew them apart with his big hands, my muscles clenched around the plug, as if worried it would sink deeper inside me. It made me squirm. The squirming made me aware of how wet my pussy was. What I wanted now, right now, was for Dan to fuck me. The feeling of fullness was all-absorbing and addictive – I wanted to be fuller. I wanted more.

But Dan didn’t rip off his trousers and oblige.

Instead he climbed off me and went to sit on the pillows, his back to the wall.

He slapped his thigh.

‘Come on, missy, over my knee,’ he said.

‘Ohhh … really?’ I wheedled.

‘Yes, really. You need to know what it feels like to be spanked with one of those inside you. More to the point, I need to know. I’m finessing my techniques. I haven’t decided whether I should do plugs before or after spankings. You’re helping me with my research. Come on.’

I was genuinely curious, too, to know what dimension the plug would add, so I crawled over his thighs. Every move kept me conscious of the invader at my rear, but no position made it more conspicuous than being over Dan’s lap with my bottom raised and my legs apart, as ordered.

I couldn’t face him. I was far too embarrassed. He knew what was in me – he had put it there. And he knew I was getting a form of pleasure from it, or I would be putting up a fight. He knew, in short, exactly what kind of sick pervert I was.

At least the spanking distracted me from my mortification. In a way, the pain – crisp and sharp and clean – made me feel better. But it wasn’t long before I began to understand how the plug altered the sensation. As the smacks became harder, they sent a quake down inside me, resulting in a series of pangs that spread outwards around the plug and through my bottom. I was being punished inside and out. The plug jiggled constantly and I knew it was getting me wetter than ever.

Dan knew it too. He must have known from the way I bucked and moaned, and if that hadn’t given the game away, it was clear when he put the knuckles of his free hand up against my clit. He continued to spank with one hand and rub up and down between my pussy lips with the other at the same time. It meant he had to use his unaccustomed arm for the spanking and the strokes were a little lighter and clumsier than I was used to. But the stroking made up for it, oh, yes, how it made up for it.

Any self-control I had was slipping away, rising up from the crown of my head like steam. I clung to the duvet, then clawed at Dan’s leg, bumping and grinding into his knuckles.

‘You’re going to come, aren’t you?’ he said, as if it were inevitable.

It was.

I came with my bum hot and spanked, my back passage plugged up, my husband’s fist pressing into my soaked pussy lips and swollen clit. I was so blown apart by the intensity of it that I started to cry.

‘No, no, no, no,’ whispered Dan, rearranging me into a tight embrace and kissing the tears. ‘Don’t cry, please, I didn’t mean to …’

‘It’s all right,’ I said, getting a wisp of sense back into my head. ‘It’s good. Just a bit too good … you know?’

He sighed with relief.

‘Right. You’re sure? Y

ou’re OK?’

‘Much more than OK.’

‘Good. Because I really, really want to fuck you now.’

‘You mean …?’

Was he going to do IT?

He shook his head.

‘I’m building up to it. But I’m going to leave the plug in. I want you to feel what it’s like to be double-stuffed.’

Hmm, well, in the interests of science, I supposed I could go along with that.

‘You’re sure you’re OK?’ he fussed, kissing me again.

I nodded.