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When she gave me a small smile, pride filled me. Knowing my cork was filling her, the way her body responded so swiftly to my touch, had me anxious to get her home. Training her would involve finesse, but I'd waited years. I was nothing if not patient. And it meant she was free of her parents harshness.

"Thank you, husband, for not corking me at our wedding ceremony," Catherine told Jake. She looked quite pretty with her dark hair wrapped neatly in a bun, and dressed in a simple black skirt and white blouse with the modest scarf covering her breasts. She'd come from St. Louis to marry Jake and had fought him and the strict rules of being a wife in Liberty. Still did on occasion, from what I gathered. But Jake used a pill in her ass every night to elevate her arousal. Now that she knew the pleasure to be found in the more unusual aspects of sexual congress, such as a good ass fucking, she was more concerned about pleasing Jake and easing the ache of her body than griping.

"And what about the dildo that's filling your pussy?" Jake murmured, caressing her cheek and smiling. Earlier in the week, I'd fashioned a dildo onto a leather strap for her to wear about her wrist for when she needed to pleasure herself, which seemed to be all the time. I'd heard it was being well used, and had been a great source of easy pleasure for Catherine. Right now, however, it was not in its usual place dangling by her shirtsleeve, as it was inappropriate for town.

Catherine's lids lowered and her eyes glazed over at the husky tone of her husband's voice. "Between the dildo and the wide cork, I don't know if I can make it home," she replied, her voice low.

Jake looked around.

"The jail's empty," MacKenzie said as he approached, hearing the very end of their conversation.

Jake nodded, bid a hasty farewell, then steered his wife into town.

Sam and MacKenzie just shook their heads at how smitten Jake had become in such a short time.

Mrs. Bowers led Tessa back my way, the younger woman's face pinched and it looked as if all the pleasure I'd wrung from her body had bled away. What had the woman said to make my new wife so unhappy?

"See you bachelors later," I replied over my shoulder as I went to meet Tessa. I heard the men chuckle, but I couldn’t have cared less. This beautiful woman before me was mine.

"Tessa is ready for you, Mr. Bridger," Mrs. Bowers said. Tessa would not meet my eye. "Good luck."

Tessa winced at Mrs. Bowers' parting words, as if she'd offered a physical blow. Not even her mother understood her. I didn't need luck, just a controlling presence and some gentle praise.

Tessa

When I saw Cole standing at the altar, I knew we were to be wed. I'd wanted it, dreamed about it for years. I'd done everything I could think of to get him to notice me, to court me so that I could be free of my ruthless parents. It wasn't just any man I'd pined for, it had just been Cole. Only Cole. But he'd caught me completely by surprise and I didn't have the appropriate dress, my hair was a mess and my parents were all but dragging me forward. Clearly, they'd been as eager to get rid of me as I was of them. I'd had visions of my wedding, and reality certainly did not match. The ceremony had been too short for me to even feel like I was being married. Even the kiss was brief and chaste and nothing like I'd imagined it would be with Cole. And then....

It had been awful! Horrible! Cruel! How could Cole, my husband, treat me in such a way? In front of the townspeople? In front of my mother? Not only had he lifted up my skirts and seen me ... bare, but he'd stuck his finger inside of me! And definitely not where I’d imagined. That thing - the wooden thing he shoved in - it was very uncomfortable. His words, his warm breath against my ear, had soothed me, made it bearable. He found me beautiful. He wanted me. He'd been waiting for me!

My heart soared at the notion. He was stern, often brooding, but he'd been gentle with me, even touching me...there. It had felt, oh! Incredible. Indescribable. Wonderful. He'd said he'd give me a treat, but I imagined a candy or some frilly notion. I wasn't a silly girl anymore and Cole certainly didn't see me that way. The way he touched me, the way he made me groan with sheer pleasure, ensured me that I was his woman.

He led me, sated and replete, out of the church, only to be told by my parents, in no uncertain terms, that I was no longer their responsibility and that whatever Cole did to me was my fault. Mine! Not like my perfect sister, Henrietta. Had the plug been my fault? Cole had said all wives had them. If my mother and sister both had their...bottoms filled as well, how was my corking my fault? The pleasure Cole had given me; obviously my mother did not know what he'd done to my body in the sanctuary when we were alone. I saw nothing but relief on their faces when Cole led me to his horse to go home, and I knew, right then, that I would be happy with Cole. I would strive to be the perfect wife, if just to be rid of my family. I was a Bridger now, not a Bowers.

Hom

e! My home was now with Cole. The man was so big, so tall, so broad that I'd been smitten since I was sixteen. He looked so handsome in his Sunday finest. His hair was dark, although lighter than mine, long for a man and curled slightly at the ends. His skin was tanned, almost swarthy from the sun. Although I'm sure he'd shaved recently, light stubble appeared on his square jaw that made me itch to touch it. And his eyes - I felt as if they could see past every wall or defense I built to my very soul.

He climbed up on his horse and held out his hand. I took it readily, his strong grip easily lifting me up upon his lap. "Are you comfortable?" he asked.

His clean scent, something musky and spicy, swirled around me, along with the tang of leather and horse. Feeling his hard, unyielding flesh beneath my thighs and his heartbeat against my arm, it was a heady combination.

With his arms about my waist holding the reins, I felt secure and protected. I didn't understand why I should feel this way when I was filled with the silly cork. The man had done unspeakable--yet unbelievably pleasurable--things to my person and I felt protected. Was there something wrong with me or solely desperate to be away from my parents?

The horse slowly ambled out of town, leaving the town behind. "Your parents, they're...."

Cole left the statement hanging.

"My parents are very severe."

"Did they say something that bothered you?"

I swallowed down a lump of tears building at the tenderness in his voice. I'd never had someone be concerned for me before. "Nothing new or overly exceptional."

The wind picked up a curl and it got in my eyes. I tucked it behind me ear.

"Such as..." Cole prompted, as the horse plodded slowly over the summer grass.

He waited patiently. Oh, the man seemed to have the patience of a saint! I shifted in his lap, as if I were physically uncomfortable by the conversation, not just emotionally. "They assured me that you would beat me if I did not behave."

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