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“Please, no!” she begged. “Please, don’t force me.” Tears glistened on her cheeks and I remembered what she’d gone through to end up here. The thought of being made to do something she didn’t want to do obviously terrified her. With a pang, I realized Roscoe and I were wrong to push her so far and I felt sorry for her. This was the woman we had pledged our lives to – promised to love, cherish and protect. She would not be punished for being frightened. Refusing out of fear was not the same thing as disobedience.
It wasn’t often that I went against Roscoe, but I knew I had to now. It was the right thing to do. I turned to him and shook my head. Then I strode across the room and joined her at the window, resting my hand on her shoulder.
“No.” I spoke softly, gently. “You won’t be forced. Nor will you be punished.” Elise sighed with relief. I risked a glance across at Roscoe and he glared at me, but after witnessing Elise’s relief that she would not be forced, I knew I was doing the right thing in standing up to him. He was the one who taught me to stand up for what was right, after all.
I looked away from him quickly and continued speaking. “But you will be plugged,” I said. Her face still to the window, Elise sucked in a breath. “I will be gentle, I promise. And once it’s in, you will be rewarded. You already know how good a tongue feels on your clit.” To remind her, I slid my other hand down between her legs. The thick layers of petticoats barred my way, but my meaning was clear. Roscoe and I could make her squeal in pleasure as we had our wicked way with her and she knew it. Beneath my hands, her body trembled. I heard her breathe again. Absently, I twirled a lock of her hair around my finger, waiting for her to respond. And she would respond, I knew it. She had been trying so hard to please us and she would here, too. She just needed a little time to get used to the idea of having her bottom filled and plugged.
“Wait.” Elise turned away from the window and spun to face me. She looked over at Roscoe then looked at me. “You told me you wouldn’t interfere in a punishment, but you just did. Why? I don’t understand.” Uncertainty crossed her face and she held her body rigid, like she was afraid she would get in trouble for speaking out of turn. Mr. Yates must have been truly cruel to frighten her so terribly.
“I said I wouldn’t interfere in a well-deserved punishment,” I corrected her, emphasizing the words she had left out. “That’s different to stepping in to stop unjust treatment. Disobedience is punished, but fear isn’t. Roscoe missed your signs of fear and thought you were simply being disobedient.”
“That’s true sweetheart.” Roscoe stepped forward. “My mother was a cantankerous woman, always contrary and arguing when she wasn’t lying and cheating. I don’t want a wife who argues every point and I won’t allow it. But Shane is right – if you are genuinely afraid and need more time, you can say so. You won’t be punished for that.”
Elise nodded. I watched her square her shoulders, steel herself, and I smiled proudly. Our accidental bride was not short on courage, and that was a very necessary trait out here.
“I think I’m ready,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But will you… will you be gentle with me?”
“We will always be gentle with you, my love,” I assured her, pleased when her stiff body visibly relaxed. “We don’t ever wish to hurt you. You are ours, and we cherish what’s ours.”
I took her hand and led her back to the bed, guiding her gently over it. Roscoe lifted up her skirts and parted her drawers, baring her to our gaze while I retrieved the jar of oil from my saddlebag in the corner. Just as I’d promised Elise, Roscoe was gentle with her as he smoothed her skirts up over her back and sat on the bed next to her, holding her hands out in front of her to help steady her.
I smeared the thick oil liberally over the plug and parted her buttocks with my fingers, holding the head of the plug against her puckered hole. She stiffened, trying to clench her cheeks together.
“Relax,” I commanded, holding her bottom apart. “Fighting it will only make it hurt.?
? Roscoe transferred both her wrists to one of his hands and smoothed her hair with his other hand, soothing her.
Slowly, I worked the plug inside her, pressing and twisting it, forcing it past the tight barrier of her body. She whimpered as the plug breached her entrance and I held it still, letting her get used to it. I watched her body tighten and her hands tug against Roscoe’s grip as she held her breath.
“Push against it. It will make it easier.”
It slid in easily after that and I pushed it right in, watching her anus swallow the bulb, closing around it, leaving the flared base outside her body. Damn but she was beautiful! Her pussy, red and swollen from being fucked, winked from between her legs and the base of the plug glinted in the sun’s rays right in the center of her shapely bottom. It seemed a shame to cover her perfect bottom with clothes. I parted her drawers wider, wanting a better view. I nodded at Roscoe. It didn’t seem fair that he hadn’t seen our bride with her plug in, yet.
“Stay right there sweetheart,” Roscoe told her, and he scrambled to his feet. He took his place beside me. Together, we ran our hands over her bottom, reaching under her drawers, rubbing her softly, sliding one finger up between her legs, grinning as she arched back into us.
“You are the most beautiful bride in all of the Montana Territory,” Roscoe declared. “Plugged like this, for us, you are perfect.”
Even though Elise couldn’t see it, I nodded in agreement. Roscoe was right. We might not have been looking for a wife when we came across Elise in distress. But now that we’d found her, we wouldn’t be letting her go for anything.
“You might as well take your clothes off,” I said softly, standing up. “You won’t be going anywhere for a while. You’ll need time to get used to the plug before you start wearing it around.”
Her body stiffened and she turned around to look at me. “I’ll be wearing this again? Wearing it around?” She sprang to her feet, righting her clothing with quick, fierce movements. A deep blush spread across her face and she avoided my gaze.
“Yes sweetheart,” Roscoe answered.
“Your bottom hole will often be filled,” I told her. “If not with your plug, with our cocks.”
She looked up, her eyes wide with fear. “All the time?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not all the time.”
“For an hour or so every day,” Roscoe said. “So we can fuck you there whenever we want without risk of hurting you.”
“But you don’t need to worry,” I assured her. I seemed to be telling her that a lot. The men she was running from were obviously brutal. Briefly, I wondered how long it would take for us to trust that we were men of our word. We had promised never to hurt her, and we wouldn’t. Ultimately, the plug was for her pleasure as well as ours. We were not selfish men. We would make sure she was just as satisfied as we were.
“We’ll take it slow,” Roscoe said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“I promised you a reward,” I reminded her. “You will always be rewarded when you wear your plug for us.”
