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CHAPTER SEVEN
Devney
"Wake up, baby," Sam murmured, his warm breath against my nape. He kissed behind my ear.
"Mmm," I mumbled, pleased to be woken in such a way. I responded so easily to his touch, because with everything he did to me, with me, he brought me such great pleasure. I'd lost the fear of him hurting me; he was now my safe place. Stretching, I felt the changes in my body; my nipples were sore and tingly, my ass was filled, although with a much smaller plug. My pussy, too, was a little sore, but it was perpetually wet, perpetually greedy, just as Mr. Bridger had said.
The bed was soft and warm, the scent of my husband's heated skin mixed with the musky tang of late night fucking filled the air. Soft light came through the window.
"It's time for your first fuck, baby, then I can get you ready for the day and I can head to the stable."
I responded not by words, but by shifting into the position he liked when he took me in bed--on my stomach with my knees tucked beneath me and spread wide. I placed my head on my pillow and my fingers grabbed hold of the wooden slats of the headboard.
"So wet, I see," he murmured as he knelt behind me and lined his cock up so the broad head opened up my pussy lips. In one slow stroke, he filled me to the hilt. Instead of his usual hard pace, he went slower this morning, more leisurely, letting my pleasure build and simmer in a most taunting way before finally grabbing my hips and working me the closer he came to his own. I came first, but Mr. Bridger quickly followed.
"I swear, baby, your pussy milks the seed right from my cock when you come so hard like that."
I grinned lazily, my eyes closed, savoring the comfort of the bed, my sated, replete body and a very attentive husband.
***
An hour later we were both dressed and finishing our breakfast. Mr. Bridger had put a new plug in my ass, this one even smaller. It had me questioning what he had planned if this was so diminutive. My answer came as we finished our coffee. "Today you'll wear your nipple trainers for longer periods of time. Unwind the rope for me, baby."
The trainers were intense. The stretch of my nipples was constant and it created a dull throb that spread to my pussy. There was no question that it caused my pussy to be copiously wet. I wanted to touch myself, to run my fingers through the slickness, but the ropes wouldn't allow it. The tug on an already stretched nipple was indeed painful. So far, I'd had a reprieve after a few hours and I'd rubbed the thick ointment into the red, abused tips. Now though ... longer?
"It's too much."
"What is, baby? The trainers? They're not hurting you, are they?" He looked down at my nipples, thrust up and toward him, as well as fully exposed by the corset and blouse. They were no longer soft pink, now they were a bright, heated red, puffy and swollen from the long term stretching.
"It doesn't...hurt." I bit my lip and thought about how to explain it. "It's a never ending pull. It's very uncomfortable and the tips are sore."
He gently ran the pads of his fingers over the tender flesh. I gasped at the contact. "They should be sore. That means they're stretching. I can see a difference already."
I looked down at myself as well. "You can?" The only difference I could see was how worked they were.
He nodded, but kept his gaze on my nipples. "Besides, it can't be all bad. Your pussy's soaking wet after I take them off. That's why I always fuck you as soon as I remove them."
My inner muscles clenched at the idea.
"Now, let's get these back on you so I can get some work done." He picked up one trainer and placed it so it surrounded a nipple, took hold of the tender tip and pulled it out so that it fit in the smaller ring, crimped it closed.
I hissed at the sensation.
Without pause he did the other until my nipples were pulled taut and caught within the metal contraptions. The thin lengths of rope dangled down to my wrists.
"Perfect." His green eyes met mine. "The trainers will stay on until the midday meal, so you may stay here this morning instead of coming to the stable. With the ropes on your wrist, I have no fear of you touching yourself. You may read, nap, whatever you wish. You may avail yourself of the dildo on the wall. If you need to come, you may walk down to the stable, or you may wait until I return."
"Yes, Mr. Bridger," I said, giving him a small smile.
"Good girl." He kissed my temple and grabbed his hat hanging on the peg by the door
***
I must have fallen asleep because I was surprised to hear someone stirring in the house. I was on our bed, curled up on top of the covers. I got up to meet my husband, but stopped in the hallway. A man was silhouetted by the bright sun shining through a window behind him. I knew it wasn't Mr. Bridger by his size. This man was shorter and slimmer. The hair on the nape of my neck rose. No man on the ranch had ever been alone with me before, only with Mr. Bridger present. He wouldn't allow it. I knew that I was his and his alone. He was very possessive - and I loved it.
"Thought you'd get away, you little slut," he said, the man's voice harsh and angry.
Panic set in at his words. I backed up into the bedroom and slammed the door. Frantically, I searched for some way to bar his passage and grabbed the wooden chair. Before I could set it in place, the door swung in and crashed into the wall.
