Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Such a good girl.”
CHAPTER 24
Mandy
I woke the next morning with those lovely words, good girl, in my mind. I had fallen asleep in Rick’s arms, with him rubbing my naked back, but instead of my gorgeous, newly dominant husband I found a note on the pillow next to me. Just looking at it sent a thrill of mingled fear and need through my waking body, then a hot blush to my cheeks as, at the same time, my first conscious movement of my legs brought a whimper to my lips.
He left you sore down there, didn’t he? I bit my lip as I heard that new part of me, the voyeuristic observer, wake up to the memory of all that had passed the previous night. Much sorer than on the morning after your wedding night.
I reached for the note, becoming much too aware in that instant that I hadn’t gotten out of bed to put on my nightgown, as I had planned. I remembered how adamantly I had decided I would do that, as I drifted off with Rick’s huge, soothing hands on me. I had even thought of it as a way to restore my independence a little—bring back some bratty defiance, even.
Sleepily, I had made the plan to cover myself while Rick slept. I would hide my private parts from his eyes and hands, I had decided, with a confused, dreamy satisfaction at my cleverness, and awake in a much stronger position with regard to Rick and his crazy ideas about training. My suddenly alpha husband had forced my nudity on me as a very significant part of my punishment. I would reclaim my body by morning, I had told myself.
One night of that should last him the rest of our marriage, I remembered thinking, my last conscious idea before sleep had taken me. I wouldn’t hold it against him, but if he thought all that stuff he had said about the next day—today, I thought with a lurch in my tummy as I looked at the note—represented anything other than a filthy little fantasy… well, he had another think coming, didn’t he?
I reached out for the note with my right hand, but my hand stopped an inch from it, as if the white paper with its blue lines had emanated a searing burst of heat. The heat that had frozen my movement, though, hadn’t come from the note.
To my dismay, the soreness itself—the mild burning from my backside and even more the ache between my thighs where Rick had used my nearly virgin pussy with such dominant abandon—had blazed into a burning fire. The glowing embers left by my terrible first lessons in my conjugal duties, it felt like, had in an instant fed on the lewd, degrading memories of my husband’s discipline, of his brutal enjoyment of my vagina and my mouth, of his finger in my anus, of his obscene promises. The apparently quiet ashes, the drowsy thoughts of bratty defiance and of telling Rick firmly no, should he have the insane idea of actually trying to follow through, didn’t seem so quiet now.
I would happily live in Rocky Falls, I told myself nevertheless, even as I felt my left hand move to my bottom and begin to explore the intricate web of bruises left by my husband’s horrid belt. I would even have sex with Rick on the sort of regular basis I knew a wife should grant her husband access to her body. At least the bizarre events of the previous night had reconciled me to that.
Not the way Rick had… had… made love to me last night, though. With the resolve of the morning, I kept my mind within limits. Make love or have sex would from now on represent the ways I allowed myself to think about that side of what it meant to be a wife. I could even imagine enjoying sex—having orgasms as I lay on my back, knees raised and spread, with my husband laboring atop me the conventional, time-tested way.
And…
My left hand traced the slightly raised flesh of the welts left by the belt. I felt my forehead crease very deeply as the fingertips moved further toward the center, gliding slowly and carefully over the bruised skin of my upper thighs. I shifted my knees under the comforter, comforted indeed that its soft, luxurious down-filled fabric covered the lewdness taking place beneath, the whipped young bride naked in her bridal bed after a long night of enduring her bridegroom’s passion.
I whimpered at the feeling, everywhere down there, the whole region between waist and knees where a husband’s most shameful ideas and interests center. I drew my right knee up further. My left hand moved, taking advantage of the parting of my thighs. I drew a sudden breath through my nostrils, and then I had to open my mouth, part the lips between which Rick had thrust his huge, hard penis until he had come and made me swallow the seed.