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“Hold still, or it will hurt more.”
“Hurt more? More than what?”
He had one hand on the back of her neck, pinning her down on the bed. The other one was on her left cheek, spreading it open so he could see his target.
The dark little bud of her ass was calling him, begging to be punished for her impudence. Angelo had been telling him to do this for weeks, but he’d hesitated because every time he looked at Gemma, he saw her as she’d looked in the casket. It was difficult to punish someone when the thought of them being hurt in any way made you physically sick.
“Bobby… what the fuck….”
“You’ve been spanked,” he said. “It doesn’t work. I think you like it. I don’t think you’ll like this.”
“Oh my god, at least use lube!”
Bobby hadn’t thought to bring lube, and now he couldn’t let her go without having to grab her all over again. There must be something he could use to ease the plug into her ass.
He looked down at her ass and felt his dick throb. A very practical and absolutely filthy solution appeared out of the ether.
Keeping Gemma in place, Bobby fisted his cock and started to stroke it.
“What are you….”
It took her several seconds to work out what was happening.
“Bobby!”
“You wanted lube, didn’t you?”
“You’re so fucked up,” she complained. Her voice was husky, and the motion of her hips had shifted into an appealing roll.
It did not take Bobby long to release his seed. Having Gemma where he wanted her, actually under his control, with her cute, pink ass ready to take whatever the hell he wanted to give it was enough to make him climax almost immediately.
Hot ropes of come landed over her ass, right against the sensitive bud he was going to penetrate.
“Oh my…” Gemma gasped, sounding about as British as she had ever sounded. “Oh…”
Panting with satisfaction, Bobby took full advantage of her momentary lapse into something like proper submission. She had relaxed enough that the tapered tip of the toy had no trouble entering her bottom. It slid in, aided by his come as if it had always belonged there. He let it seat itself naturally, the flared base ensuring it did not go too deep.
“What the…” she squirmed uncomfortably, a very satisfying sight.
Her round ass was still painted with his come, which was already starting to separate and run over her cheeks. He rubbed it in, slapping it lightly with satisfaction. Was this what Angelo felt like? This surge of ownership and control was one of the most compelling and enriching things he’d ever experienced.
“You’re going to leave that in overnight,” Bobby told her. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll take it out so you can use the bathroom, and then it goes back in.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to remember this better than you remember having your ass whipped. And if you don’t, I’ll find something you do remember. This is nothing compared to what I’ll do next time.”
“You’re assuming there will be a next time.”
“Am I wrong?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. How should I know? Oh my god, Bobby, please… take it out.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Get some sleep. It’s going to be a big day.”
Gemma tried to get comfortable, but the plug was a constant reminder of having Bobby’s strong hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks, his gaze no doubt catching every part of her nude rear end.
“Asshole,” she growled to herself.
She could just take it out, she thought. She could even put it back in, in the morning. He’d never know.
Before the Vitalis, that’s exactly what she would have done. She wouldn’t have thought about it for a second. But there was Bobby to consider. The man who seemed to really like her for reasons she didn’t understand. The man who had just used his semen as a lubricant. She couldn’t get pregnant that way, but they’d shared fluids now. They were more connected than ever. Maybe some of his essence was inside her, influencing her. As mad as that sounded, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
She fell asleep before she could figure out a good enough justification to disobey.
Chapter 2
Breakfast with a butt plug was not comfortable, especially with Bobby having that damn knowing smirk on his face and Angelo not having a clue. Suddenly, keeping secrets from Angelo didn’t feel quite as cute as it had done when she was the one expecting Bobby to deal with the discomfort.
All she had to do was get through the meal. Angelo insisted they have it together like a family. The man was obsessed with keeping order, forming familial bonds between people who had almost no connection whatsoever to each other.
She wondered if that was all he really wanted: a family. It wasn’t the world’s most insightful piece of psychoanalysis, but it did offer insight into the machinations of the monster.
