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“No more, please,” I begged, my long hair swirling around my face.

“Before you get your cork, I need to give you your medicine. This is a little pill,” he told me, ignoring my plea. “It will keep you from getting sick."

I lifted my head to plead with him, wanting to cry. He held the pill up, his fingers slick and shiny. It was a ball about an inch around, a pale white like a candy. Something of that size couldn't be worked in there. Oh God, what had I gotten myself into?

"Sick?" I asked, staring at the large pill. "Why would I get sick?"

"It's the water here. It has been making people who aren't used to it sick for years. Stomach pains, vomiting. When the white people first settled, the Indians laughed at how sick they became, then showed them the plants to dry, grind into a paste and take to prevent it. You're not used to our water and it will make you ill. You've already had some water to drink from our canteens and obviously will continue to do so."

"Do you have to take the medicine?" I couldn't imagine Jake standing in my position with something being pushed up inside him.

He shook his head all the while absently rimming me with his finger. It was as if he were enjoying himself while all I could feel was getting stretched wider and wider. "I was born here and have always drank the water, so it doesn't bother me. Maybe I was sick as a baby, but I don't remember."

I shook my head. "Please, I'm not sickly. Like you said, I've already had some water and I feel fine. I don't need medicine this way. Please," I begged.

His hands left my ass and put the pill back in a container on the shelf next to the jar of grease.

Negligently, he shrugged. "Very well, you don't need to take the medicine if you know what's best."

I sagged with relief.

"But you will be corked. My wife will have her ass filled at all times. You will get used to the feeling. Or not."

My eyes widened. At all times. I couldn't walk around, sit, sleep with something lodged within me. There. I had to protest. This wasn't right!

"There will be no discussion on this, so close your mouth."

I snapped my mouth closed at his stern look, the harsh tone of his voice, and looked down at the floorboards between my toes.

I heard him rustling, then felt his hand spreading my bottom apart, then felt something hard once again at my back entrance, pushing in. "Usually a new bride has this done at the alter in church after the vows are read. In front of family and witnesses."

My head shot up and looked at Jake in the mirror, stunned. In church! He wasn't looking at me, but focused on what he was pushing inside me where it didn't belong.

"That's what Reverend Abernathy referred to earlier."

I squeaked when the hard object slid in, my body giving up the fight. It didn't go deep, thankfully, but stretched the ring of muscle wide enough so it burned. I couldn't squeeze my back entrance closed. Oh God, it was too big! I tried to clamp down again, but my muscles couldn't contract with the object keeping me spread wide.

"You can try to push it out. I expect you to do so. Your body will fight it, but it's no use. The sooner your realize that, the easier time you will have. You may stand."

I relaxed my fingers that gripped the bar, then stood, and turned to face my husband. The cork shifted, which made me squirm. Jake washed at the basin, then wiped his fingers on a cloth. "Say ‘thank you’ for saving you the embarrassment of this first corking in front of the Abernathy's and my brothers."

I couldn't imagine having that done in front of others. It was shameful enough with just my husband. "Thank you, Jake," I whispered.

"You may not take it out. It's my job. I decide whether you will be corked or plugged, stretched or stuffed. It is my choice, not yours."

"What if I have to...to-" I couldn't say it. I couldn't.

"You will come to me if you need it removed. As your needs are my responsibility, I will tend to you wherever I am - barn, house or prairie."

I wasn't going to ask details on that. Yet. I really didn't want to know if he'd be taking it out in the middle of a field or not.

"Now, lie down on the bed." He held up a hand, his look stern. "I gave you my word this afternoon that I wouldn't fuck you. If you question my word one more time, I will be led to believe that you don't consider me honorable."

My shoulders drooped as I considered what he said. He was right. I doubted his word.

He tilted my chin up so I had to meet his gaze. "Remember, sweetheart, my word is law."

I could only nod, contrite. That was fairly obvious as I had something hard lodged in my bottom.

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