Buying His Mate (12 page)

And when he did that—when, ever so gently, still keeping his utter silence so that she felt she need not do anything but learn not from his voice but from her master’s very hands, he took the little buds in his oiled fingers and gently rubbed them, and squeezed them so that she whimpered with the excess of pleasure—the warmth between her legs seemed to blaze up like a bonfire, and the wetness to gush into her panties. She blushed again as she realized that the smell of her arousal, mingled with the floral scent that infused the oil, had grown much sharper.

Gretchen opened her eyes for the first time in several minutes and looked up at Martin, who was looking with a lustful smile at what his fingers were doing with her nipples. She was almost surprised to see that she still had the lacy white things on.

“Should we take off your bra, do you think, young lady?” he asked softly.

Bra.
That was what the thing was called. She hadn’t read many books where girls wore bras, but she remembered the word now.

“Yes, sir,” Gretchen whispered, and her husband helped her sit up so that she could reach behind and unfasten the thing, and then shrug it from her shoulders. She shook with excitement though she felt very warm.

“Lie back down,” Martin said. She obeyed, closing her eyes again as she did so. Then he said, “I’m going to touch you between your legs in a little while, Gretchen.”

“Yes, sir,” she said softly.

“Will you like that?”

“Yes, sir,” came her voice, as if from someone else, even more softly.

She felt his fingers gently rubbing her tummy, so steadily that though Gretchen was very ticklish it didn’t feel at all like she might giggle. Instead, the aching wetness of her pussy seemed to grow and grow. He moved to her legs, and rubbed them more firmly, making the muscles relax under his strong hands, from her feet, to her calves, and finally to her thighs.

When Martin’s fingers at last began to press against her inner thighs, only an inch away from where the lace covered the pussy they had bared for him, with the hot wax that had felt so funny and a little painful, Gretchen couldn’t suppress a long, drawn-out sigh. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw her master standing above her, watching his fingers work their way upwards toward the veiled place where she knew he wanted to take his pleasure, and soon would, because he owned her.

At the thought Gretchen gave a questioning little whimper of submission. Without taking his eyes from her pussy, which he finally touched through the lace of the panties, gently rubbing where her clit lay hidden, so that Gretchen had to emit another whimper, Martin said, “It’s nearly time for me to put my cock here, isn’t it, my dear?”

He looked into her eyes, then, with a smile that seemed to have a hunger in it, an appetite inspired by her. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“It will hurt, your first time,” he said. As he spoke, he began to rub her whole pussy with three fingers, still through the lace, which seemed to make the sensation, in combination with his words, almost painful as the fabric scratched a little against her private lips. “Spread your legs,” he said abruptly, and made her do it, so that her feet hung down on either side of the table.

Something in Martin seemed torn between tenderness and roughness—even cruelty. Gretchen didn’t understand why, but she felt her body responding to the idea that her master would hurt her with his cock, her pussy getting ever warmer as she imagined him simply having his way like that, putting his penis inside her despite her virginity and the way his hardness made her cry out.

He pulled the lace aside to see her there: her tender cleft, bare and exposed to his gaze and to his fingers, which now, covered in the massage oil, began to claim Gretchen’s pussy the same way they had claimed the rest of her, but infinitely more surely. She did cry out now, but in helpless pleasure, so much more intense now than it had been even in the light gravity of the shuttle, because of the way the massage had prepared her body for this most intimate touch.

“Come for me now, little Gretchen,” he said. “Show me how much pleasure I can give you, before I take your maidenhead.” His left hand caressed her clit now gently, now firmly, while his right hand’s fingers pushed into her inner lips, in the place further down where she knew he would push in with his cock when the time came.

“Such a good little wife,” he murmured. “Such a sweet little pussy, in old-fashioned panties. Am I going to fuck that pussy of yours, Gretchen? Am I going to open you up there, the way a husband does?”

His quiet voice, with its edge of force, seemed to lift Gretchen’s mind into a world of pure pleasure, where pain itself became simply the greatest stimulation. She watched his hands, almost lost to sight between her legs, moving faster and faster, and she felt the way, with his right hand, he began to open her, coming right up against the place where nature had closed her body to any but the man who would first break through the maiden barrier.

That man, she knew with a thrill that made her pussy clench against his fingers and sent her over the edge into her gasping, limb-tightening climax, stood above her. He had bought her and put his cock in her mouth back on Earth. He had taken her home, naked, and put lewd clothing on her. He had
married
her, taken her as his
wife.

Gretchen’s hips bucked against her master’s hand, and she found that she was crying out, “Thank you, sir,” over and over. She gripped the sides of the table at either side of her hips, and tried to thrust her pussy up to get more and more of the lovely feeling, but then he had taken his hand away and he was closing her knees so that he could pull her panties down and off.

“Turn over, now, girl,” he said.

He rubbed her back, then, as the little tremors of her orgasm passed through, and then out, of her body, and the sensation in her pussy began to build again. He moved his hands to her bottom and began to massage her there, squeezing firmly and parting her cheeks from the start, in a way that made Gretchen blush.

“I will have you here, too,” he said softly. “They told you that in orientation, didn’t they?”

“Yes, sir,” Gretchen said. She remembered the vid, and the narrator woman saying, “The act of anal sex is considered by many elites, both male and female, to be the ultimate act of mastery. Even today, the old Earth expressions are still current among us that demonstrate that.
To be shafted
and
to take it in the ass
and
to bend over
all mean to suffer the domination of another. For that reason, the Enclosure Act, in order to avoid any ambiguity, specifies that your master or mistress may employ your anus for his or her pleasure in any way he or she wishes that does not cause lasting harm.”

The vid showed a relict girl being taken in her bottom-hole, lying on her side with one knee pulled up and her master behind her, thrusting gently in while she played with her hairless pussy.

“As you see,” the narrator said, “anal sex can be a beautiful experience for a relict girl, and an important moment in her training as a submissive possession. When your master or mistress takes your bottom, though, whether or not he or she does it as tenderly as the master you see here, you must make up your mind to the necessity of the act. Your master or mistress owns your backside, and has the right to punish you, if necessary, until you are ready to allow him or her to enjoy it.”

Gretchen blushed, remembering the little gasps that had gone around the orientation room: even the hardened girls of the wilds had not expected it to be put quite so baldly, she thought. She blushed also because of the way Martin touched her there now, gently pressing a finger against the little ring until the tip entered her, as she gave a little whimpering cry.

“My cock will stretch you here, my dear,” Martin said. “And you will wear a device during the day to train you to open to me.”

Like the plug in the vid about punishments, Gretchen realized, her face getting very hot.

“Do you want to open to me, wife?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“As I want to open you,” he said, and the roughness had come back into his tone. Then, turning her over and about as he did so, he picked Gretchen up off the table. She realized then that he had taken off his own clothes while she had been lying face down. Part of her wanted to try to look immediately between his legs, and another part thought, with a shiver, she must not. In any case, she couldn’t see anything but his chest and his chin, for her held her tightly, perhaps because her body had grown so slippery with the oil, and carried her back into her bedroom.

“I will bring you to my bed sometimes,” he said, “but it is important to me that you understand that when I want to enjoy my wife, I will come here, to your room, and enjoy you. You must keep yourself ready for me, and wear the things I’ve put in your dresser.”

“Yes, sir,” Gretchen said, picturing the door opening without warning, and her master coming in, his cock hard, to have his pleasure.

Then Martin laid her on the bed. “I shall have you in what used to be called the matrimonial position, Gretchen. Lie on your back with your legs spread and your knees up nice and high.”

As she obeyed, biting her lip with the fear that had begun to well up again, she saw his cock, standing straight out. Martin held it in his hand, stroking it a little, and something about the way he did that sent a jolt of arousal through Gretchen’s pussy, as if by stroking his cock he gave her a lesson in how to please him, saying,
This is what makes me feel good, girl, and you must learn to treat my cock this way, too.

Then he had gotten onto the bed, and had taken her knees in his hands. She felt her eyes widen as he spread her open even farther, and watched him look possessively and lustfully down at her bare, maiden pussy, watching his hardness touch it, rub along it. Gretchen whimpered at the teasing feeling, as Martin let her right knee go for a moment, so that it hovered in the air and the tension of keeping it raised seemed to intensify the feeling in her pussy even more than the sensation of his left hand pushing her other knee back.

He rubbed her there: her clit, her inner lips. He took his cock in his hand and put its head where he would enter her; where he might even put a baby, tonight, because that was what relict girls and wives were for.

“Touch yourself for me,” he said. “Rub your clit.”

Ms. Trainor had said in orientation that they must never play with themselves without permission; elite men and women liked to have control of their girls’ pleasure at all times, even when they were apart from them. Gretchen reached her hand down and began to rub in circles, gasping with the pleasure that came from the act, and from the way Martin’s cock now began to thrust inward, as he again held her right knee in his hand.

“Good girl,” he said, looking in her eyes. “I’m going to fuck you now. You just keep rubbing that little clit.”

Gretchen breathed quickly, in mingled fear and excitement. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, but she saw that Martin’s attention had passed from her face back to her pussy, where he must be watching a sight hidden from her by the natural modesty of her own body: his cock, entering, claiming, having his girl’s pussy.

His eyes returned to hers and then, without warning, he thrust hard, and even though she kept rubbing her clit fiercely, even frantically, in obedience to her husband’s command, it hurt so much that Gretchen screamed and closed her eyes.

But Martin had stopped being gentle, and now, inside her, where his hardness burned and stabbed, he began to move resolutely, making little sounds of pleasure in his chest. Gretchen opened her eyes and saw that he gazed down at the place where his cock surged in and out now just as he wished. “There we go,” he murmured. “Such a good girl. Such a tight little pussy.”

Faster and faster he pounded his hips into her bottom as she could only whimper and cry out with the pain of her defloration by her master’s cock. Martin slowed a bit, then, shifted his position, and lay atop her with his weight on his arms. He looked into her eyes again, and she could see the wild hunger for the pleasure of her body. She realized that some of the pain had passed away and some of the rest of it, with the help of her fingers on her clit, had changed to a warm, ambiguous sensation that reminded her of when he had spanked her.

The feeling of being held down by him suddenly seemed lovely, and to harmonize with the strokes of his cock in her pussy; she suddenly realized that he had truly made her a woman and his wife, and she couldn’t help moving against him a little, trying to show him that she knew that her pussy should have her master’s manhood inside it.

He smiled down at her. “Do you like it, then, little Gretchen?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

He fucked faster again, and then he seemed to shudder and his jaw clenched. He growled deep in his chest, and then gave a shout of manly pleasure as his cock seemed to pulse inside her and she thought she felt his seed spurting out into her pussy.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “Did I please you?”

“You pleased me very, very much, Gretchen,” he said, looking into her eyes. He bent his head down and kissed her. “Perhaps we made a baby. Would you like that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Very much.”

Gently he withdrew from her, and lay next to her on his side. “Alright, you may go get washed up,” he said. “I’ll make supper tonight. You’ll need to change the sheets, since you got them a little bloody.”

To her surprise, Gretchen found that to be commanded that way felt comfortable. “Yes, sir,” she said. She climbed out of bed on unsteady legs, and saw with a blush that yes, she had got both the sheets and her own legs a little bloody.

“I think I’ll have you sleep with me tonight,” Martin said. “I’ll fuck you again at least once in your pussy, and I want to start training your mouth, too. We’ll save your bottom for the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Gretchen said. She looked into his eyes. His tone seemed very different than it had only a few moments before. Had something happened?

“You’re a good lay, Gretchen, and a good girl in bed, but we’ll need to train you up so that I get my money’s worth.”