I set down my fork with trembling hands and stood, my legs feeling unsteady as I crossed to the cabinet. My breath caught when I looked inside.
The two remaining plugs sat in a neat pair—medium, large. The tube of lubricant beside them. And there, hanging from a hook on the inside of the cabinet door, was something I hadn’t noticed last night on the quick glance I’d gotten in my overwhelmed state.
A whip.
My stomach lurched violently. The implement looked deceptively innocent—a wooden handle with multiple thin leather tails hanging from it. But I knew what it was for. I’d seen pictures. It was for discipline. For punishment.
For girls who disobeyed.
I tried to look away, but my eyes kept darting back to it. The leather tails seemed almost to speak to me, promising pain if I stepped out of line. If I touched myself without permission. If I failed to please Mike in some way I didn’t even know yet.
Would he use it on me? The thought made my sealed pussy clench hard, a confusing mixture of fear and arousal flooding through my system. My bottom still ached from last night’s spanking—would he escalate to this if I misbehaved? Would those thin leather tails leave humiliating marks on my bare backside, for me to look at in the mirror… the way I hadn’t been able to help looking at the cane welts the orderly had made across my bottom?
I forced myself to look away from the whip—themartinet, some dark corner of my mind supplied—and focus on what I was actually supposed to be doing. The small plug sat on my nightstand where I’d left it this morning. I retrieved it quickly, my hands shaking as I returned it to the cabinet.
The medium plug was noticeably heavier when I picked it up. Thicker. I grabbed the tube of lube with my other hand and closed the cabinet door as quickly as I could, grateful to hide that terrible leather implement from view.
My heart hammered as I carried both items to the bedroom. I set them on the nightstand and stared at them for a long moment, my breath coming faster. The medium plug looked impossibly large now that I was actually going to have to put it inside me. I didn’t know, now, how I had managed the small one last night, and this one was so much bigger.
But Mike expected it. He’d told me to do it. And he would punish me for disobedience. The martinet flashed into my mind and I had to bite my lip to keep from letting out an audible whimper of mingled fear and need. My sponsor knew how to punish a naughty girl.
I stripped off my yoga pants and panties with trembling hands, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Then I did what Mike had taught me last night—positioned myself at the end of the bed, bent forward with my palms flat on the mattress, knees spread wide.
The vulnerability of the position hit me all over again. I was offering myself, presenting my bottom for training, and he wasn’t even here. But he could see. The thought made my sealed pussy clench hard. He could be watching through the cameras, seeing me obey his command, and that knowledge sent a rush of heat through my core.
I squeezed a generous amount of lube onto my right hand, then reached back between my legs. The moment my slick fingers found my anus, I gasped. The sensitivity was even more intense than it had been last night, every nerve ending hyperaware after sleeping with the plug inside me.
I circled the tight opening, spreading the lube, trying to relax. My finger pressed against the resistance and I had to bite my lip as it slid inside. The stretch felt different today—not quite pain, but an intense awareness that made my thighs tremble.
I worked one finger in and out, then added a second. The fullness made me gasp, and I found myself thinking about Mike’s cock. That impossibly thick shaft I’d had in my mouth last night. The way it had felt hot and rigid against my tongue. How it had pulsed when he’d come, flooding my mouth with his seed.
Would he really put itthere? Would his huge cock actually fit inside my bottom?
The thought should have terrified me. Instead, I felt my sealed pussy throb with desperate need, wetness gathering at the tiny opening. I squeezed my core muscles involuntarily, creating that friction Mike had taught me, and had to force myself to stop before I went too far.
I withdrew my fingers and reached for the medium plug, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped it. The tapered tip found my lubed opening, and I began to push.
The stretch was immediate and intense. I gasped as the plug pressed inside, my body resisting the intrusion. It was so much thicker than the small one—I had to pause halfway, breathing hard, my whole body trembling with the effort of accommodating it.
“Oh, god,” I whimpered, pressing forward again. The widest part stretched me impossibly wide, and for a moment I thought I couldn’t do it, thought my body would refuse. But then it slipped past the resistance and seated itself fully, my muscles closing around the narrow neck.
The fullness was overwhelming. I stayed bent over the bed, gasping, my fingers gripping the comforter as my body adjusted to the invasion. It felt huge inside me—so much bigger than the small plug. Every tiny movement sent sparks of sensation through my core, and I realized with dawning horror that it was arousing me intensely.
My sealed pussy throbbed with desperate need, and I felt wetness trickling from the tiny opening. The plug shifted slightly as I tried to straighten up, and the sensation made my knees buckle. I had to catch myself on the edge of the bed, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I thought about Mike’s cock again. His huge, hard tool. The thing he had thrust against the back of my throat, had pumped in his hand so that it spurted his hot seed over my face.
He was going to put it there. In my bottom. When I could take the large plug, he’d said. When I was ready.
Friday. That was forty-eight hours away. Forty-eight hours of this constant awareness, this building need, this desperate aching throb behind the seal. How was I supposed to keep myself sane for that long? How was I supposed to focus on anything when all I could think about was Mike’s hands on me, Mike’s cock stretching me, Mike making me come while he used my body however he wanted?
I managed to pull on my panties and yoga pants, though the movement made the plug shift in ways that had me biting my lip to keep from moaning. I was pulling my t-shirt back on when my phone buzzed with a notification from the SA app.
My hands trembled as I grabbed it, my heart racing before I even saw what the message said.
You’ve been such a good girl this evening, Laura. I’m very proud of you for following my instructions so perfectly.
The praise made warmth bloom in my chest, and I found myself smiling despite the uncomfortable fullness in my bottom. He’d been watching. He’d seen me obey.
