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“Now I kiss it and make it all better.”
I shudder. Flashes shoot through me—electric currents and boiling syrup and everything wonderful all at once.
I whimper, moan, cry out softly.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yes, sir. Oh God, yes, sir.”
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“Good. Your ass is so beautiful. I’m going to put some lube on it, because I want very much to finger you, Mandy.”
He wants to finger my ass? I suppose that makes sense, since he wants to fuck me there.
I go a little rigid.
“You have a safe word,” he reminds me.
“I’m fine, sir.”
“Good. Because I’m very much looking forward to this.”
He walks again to the bureau, removes something. I strain my neck to see but can’t quite move that way, as I’m bound to the table.
Something cold and slick slides over my asshole.
“This is the lube.”
He massages me with his finger. And it feels…good. It feels so good.
And then—
I gasp as he breaches the rim.
“Easy,” he says. “The hardest part is getting past the rim. I won’t move for a moment. Get used to the feeling of the invasion. I will listen to your body.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within a few seconds, I no longer feel the pain of the breach. He seems to sense my relaxation, and he moves his finger in and then out. And it feels…
Strange. So strange and jabby and unthinkable.
“So tight and warm in there, Mandy.” He groans. “Tell me. Tell me, does that feel good?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, and I’m flabbergasted to realize I’m not lying.
Itdoesfeel good. It feels different. Feels forbidden.
And I like it. I like it all.
“Good,” he says. “I want you to feel good, Mandy. There is pain in this room. But this room is more about pleasure than anything else. Pleasure not just for me but for you as well.”
“Yes, sir.” I sigh.
When he withdraws his fingers, I whimper at the loss.
“You know what’s great about this table, Mandy?”
