I stopped breathing.
He parted my folds with the same unhurried deliberateness he brought to everything, and I felt the glistening evidence of my arousal transfer to his fingertips with no particular drama, as if my body had simply forgotten whose side it was on. My face burned hot against the bedding.
“Raiza,” he said softly.
“I know,” I managed.
The satisfaction in his exhale was warm rather than cruel, which was somehow worse. He gathered what he found and brought his fingers to the base of the plug, coating it slowly and thoroughly, and I pressed my forehead harder into the mattress and devoted myself entirely to making no sound whatsoever about that.
Then the press of it against my bottom hole. The stainless steel was cool and smooth and patient, while his hand was sure and steady at my lower back.
I exhaled sharply as it seated, the stretch of it different from what I knew, blunter and more deliberate, something my bodyregistered and responded to before I had any say in the matter. I felt it settle and stay. Warm almost immediately. Constant in a way I could not account for or ignore.
He eased me open, and there was no rushing it. There was a moment where I was convinced it was impossibleand I cried out at the burning pain that came with the plug pushing into me,stretching my bottom hole wide open,and then a moment where itpopped inside me and the ache relented.
The weight of it was substantialinside me, foreign in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I could feel my pulse between my legs, a throb that matched the ache inside me, the fullness of the plug making every sensationmore intense.
He stroked my back, a long, soothing motion that made my skin tingle. “Breathe,” he murmured.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.
The exhale left me trembling, and something inside me relaxed. The plug shifted slightly with the movement, and I gasped at the sudden, startling pleasure that shot through me.
“Goodgirl,” he said, his voice low and warm.
His fingers traced the curve of my backside, following the contour where flesh met the smooth metal. “You look perfect like this.”
I made a sound that was supposed to be indignant but came out more like a whimper. His hands slid up to my hips, gripping with that same quiet confidence he always had, and he urged me to stand. The movement made the plug shift again, sending another wave of sensation through me,and I gasped softly, trying to cover it up.
“Walk for me,” he said.
I shot him a look over my shoulder, but there was no mockery in his eyes—just that calm intensity that always made me feel both exposed and strangely safe. I took a step, and then another. The tail swayed behind me with each movement, the soft fur brushing against the back of my thighs.
It felt obscene.
It felt incredible.
I made it to the full-length mirror at the far end of the room before he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. The reflection was almost unrecognizable—the woman in the mirror with her dress hiked up around her waist, a silver-white tail protruding from between her legs, her eyes wide and dark with desire.
His hands slid around my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. “Beautiful,” he murmured against my ear, his thumbs tracing circles on my hips.
One hand drifted lower, fingers finding my clit with practiced ease. I jerked against him, the sudden pleasure overwhelming after everything else. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back.
“Look at yourself,” he whispered, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. “See what you’ve become.”
I couldn’t look away from the mirror—my flushed face, my lips parted in silent pleasure, the tail swaying gently as his fingers worked me into a frenzy. The fullness of the plug made every touch more intense, every movement more meaningful.
It didn’t take long for his fingers to drive me to the edge, and when I came it was with his name on my lips and my hands clutching at his arms, my body shaking with the force of it. He held me through every tremor, his grip steady and reassuring, his breathing heavy in my ear.
Afterward, he carried me back to the bed, laying me down with surprising tenderness. The tail remained in place, a constant reminder of what had just transpired. He stretched out beside me, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me.
“You’re going to wear it for me,” he said, not a question but a statement of fact. “Whenever I ask you to.”
I nodded, too spent to argue, and far too satisfied to care about the implications.
His smile was small but genuine. “Good girl,” he said again, and the praise warmed me more than I wanted to admit.
As I drifted toward sleep, the weight of the tail was no longer foreign. Just familiar. One more thing that was simply how things were now.
