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The tip was cold, but not shockingly so. She gasped anyway, despite her determination. She angled a bit until she felt she had it right and began to sit. Slowly. So very slowly. In truth she might have hovered over the thing indefinitely if her knees and thighs could have held out that long. But they couldn’t, and she slowly sank down.
The tip wasn’t painful. It was about the same diameter as Mark’s two fingers, which she reminded herself had gone in relatively easily.
“Go slow,” Mark reminded her. “Don’t jam it or force it hard. Just go slow and steady but do not stop.”
She nodded, concentrating hard. The toy slid further in, expanding her as it went. It was a little uncomfortable the further it went and she wasn’t sure how she would manage to deal with that for even just a few minutes, let alone all day. She took a deep breath and pushed down. She squeezed her eyes shut as the largest part stretched her. She gasped.
Just as she thought she couldn’t finish it, the toy slid in quickly. More quickly than she anticipated, and the smaller stem-like portion gave her instant relief. She felt herself closing up around the base as her cheeks hit the cool plastic of the toilet seat. She sat, perched delicately, her stomach fluttering crazily and her hands gripping the edge of the seat.
Mark nodded and reached out to take her hand. He pulled her up, which gave her a momentary spike of panic as she worried the plug would pop out.
As if he suspected what she was worried about, he said, “Hold it in.”
He turned her around and parted her cheeks with both hands, inspecting her. His fingers brushed over the smooth base and he tapped it. She moaned as it jiggled inside her. It was foreign, and wicked, and forbidden, and she had no idea what to think about any of it so she closed her eyes.
Mark’s fingers found her pussy and stroked gently. “So beautiful, pet.”
Later, as he helped her dress, she gingerly fingered the plug before she pulled on her panties. Mark kissed her on the temple. “I expect a text tonight when you’ve taken it out,” he told her. She paused and looked at him. “Also one every morning after you’ve put it in and then a follow-up text when you remove it.”
She gaped at him, but he looked unruffled.
“I need to keep track of how long you’re keeping it in,” he informed her. “So I know where we are in your training.”
Abby felt slightly disconnected from everything as she gathered up her things and prepared to go home. As she left the house, she wondered about it all. She had a toy in her butt, and a Dom in her life, and she wasn’t sure how either of those things was going to work out long-term, but it was definitely like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Mark was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. There was something simultaneously chilling and thrilling that he could get see into her so clearly and bring out things she’d never known were there.
On Monday, Abby entered the lobby and made a beeline straight past the receptionist with barely a nod such was her certainty that anyone who looked at her could tell that she was a horrible pervert with a glass plug in her butt. She clenched instinctively as she made her way down the hall to the office, fighting off they very palpable fear that the thong’s tiny strap would not be capable of holding the damnable thing in.
Earlier that morning, she’d texted Mark to say she’d completed her task. He’d responded by saying he was proud of her and he wouldn’t be opposed to her sending a photo. She’d refused and he’d pretended to be disappointed but it had made her smile.
She gingerly lowered herself into her office chair and willed her heart to stop hammering away. She shifted a little in the seat and was surprised to find that, like sitting in the car, it was not altogether unpleasant. It didn’t hurt at all and though it wasn’t exactly what she would call comfortable, she thought she could live with it. Though she dreaded the moment when she would have to actually leave her office. Which happened all too soon, to her liking.
She gathered her daily reports and practically goose-stepped down the hall to the office’s copy room. Normally she didn’t shut the door, but today she felt that it couldn’t hurt to put as much as she could between herself and other people. Having a secret was exhausting, worrying about whether it was obviously just by looking that something was out of the ordinary.
In the relative silence and safety of the copy room, Abby brushed one hand over her rump for about the hundredth time that morning, checking that the outline of the toy wasn’t visible underneath her slacks. But she was assured it was not. She closed her eyes and remembered Mark’s hand caressing her bottom just after she’d put it in for the first time. First her bottom, then…
