Those were the words I remembered as I searched the website for my new purchase, a red bejeweled butt plug crafted by a Frenchman. And how I was tempted to disobey, for they also sold smaller ones, ones that could be worn with little if any discomfort, more to what I thought would be my liking.
But I didnt dare.
The day it arrived I placed it in a corner, under some other unrelated things, ignoring it as if it would disappear. But it didnt.
Laying in bed, wanting him, I realized that a week had gone by. I thought of it, wrapped in plain paper, waiting. Thinking how I would please him. Thinking how he would be pleased because it made me so uneasy, because it would fill me up, because it would hurt when all was said and done. And somehow I wanted that too.
It is hard to explain, this want. Hard to explain the feeling of how my body, but especially my ass, came to belong to him, to use and abuse in ways that shocked me. How my want came to...
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