The wedding is four months away, and Ethan has promised to train Sam to handle a planned honeymoon activity. He’s calculated the math to figure out her goals each week. When she reaches the weekly target she gets a massage and lots of fun orgasms. But if she doesn’t, it’s the stainless steel cane.
All this along with navigating her clients’ drama, planning a wedding, dealing with her mother while planning the wedding, and having lots and lots of wild and kinky sex.
And we haven’t even mentioned the bachelorette party.
Warning: This title contains graphic language, consensual BDSM some may find objectionable, anal sex, bondage, and the use of toys including crops, clips, clamps, plugs, and gags.
Sam looked at the ring on her finger and her knees went weak. Again.
She wasn’t worried about marrying Ethan so much as freaking out about how ideal her life seemed to be. Did anyone get their idea of a perfect life for long before something came along to screw with it?
As a divorce attorney, she’d seen enough ‘happily ever after’ stories go horribly wrong to know there were no guarantees she and Ethan would live out their lives in blissful harmony. But she knew marriages survived — her parents and Ethan’s parents were proof.
Panicking never solved anything, nor did focusing on the negative, so she took a deep breath and reminded herself they were starting better than most couples, and had a really good chance of making it work. They both communicated when there were issues, and both were willing to compromise when needed. As long as they kept up the communication, they should be fine. Theoretically.
“What’s going through your head? You’re supposed to look happy when you stare at the ring on your finger.”
Her gaze flew to Ethan’s and she smiled. “I’m just thinking. You know I’m happy, right? I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t think we could make it work. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I’m just…”
Ethan let the silence weigh heavily for several long moments, as if he were seeing if she’d finish. He finally said, “I think the worst choice of career for a fiancée has to be divorce attorney. If someone had told me a year ago I’d be engaged to one I’d have told them they were crazy.” He shook his head and added, “But you aren’t the average divorce attorney. You aren’t the average anything, and it’s part of why I love you so much.” He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Still, it has to be hard, watching the end of relationships that likely started out with such promise.”
“Yes,” Sam nodded, relieved he understood without getting his feelings hurt, “but I think it’s also given me a window into the type of people who are bad marriage material, and you don’t fit the bill,” she said as she poked his chest with her pointer finger. “You’re honest, you’re a good communicator, you hold yourself responsible for your actions, and you’re considerate of other’s feelings. We’ve only known each other five months, but…” She shook her head. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about that right now. I want to hear more about your plans for, ummm, preparing me for our honeymoon.”
Ethan eyed her a moment before saying, “Five months and three weeks, which rounds up to six months. As for your training, I’d planned to give you the basic outline tonight. I’ve ordered a few things that should be here Thursday or Friday, so we’ll begin the training Friday evening. I intended to email you some things to read before I explain the process, but we can talk it over instead, if you’d like.”
“Yeah. I’d like.” Sam rolled her eyes. “That’s why said I wanted to hear it.”
Her insides warmed and her stomach threatened to flip-flop as Ethan’s eyebrows rose, but they weren’t in a scene at the moment so he couldn’t punish her for being a smart-ass. Thank goodness.
He relaxed his eyebrows as he flashed a quick smirk — he knew his look had affected her, but didn’t comment and easily carried on with their conversation. “You’re an athlete with good flexibility and probably already know most of what I’m about to tell you, but I’m going to detail it anyway to be sure you correlate what you know about flexibility with anal training.”
She put it together in her head, talking as she thought. “Yeah, the rectum is a strong muscle, so stretching should be like….Oh.”
Ethan smiled. “All stretching will happen from Friday evening through Sunday. I’ll expect you to be able to handle the next size up on Sunday without difficulty, and then keep yourself accustomed to the new size throughout the week so you’ll be prepared to be stretched again Friday evening.”
“You aren’t expecting me to wear a plug at work, are you?”
“Of course not,” he said with a smile and a quick shake of his head. “During the week you’ll be required to insert the training tool four times a day for a total of forty-five minutes per day, at least two hours apart, with a minimum of five minutes per insertion. This means you can have it in for thirty minutes once, and five minutes three times. Or for twenty minutes once, five minutes once, and ten minutes the other two times.” He paused a beat before adding, “When necessary, you’ll have the option of reducing it to three times a day, though your total time will increase to one hour. You’ll need to clear it with me if you want to alter the schedule more than twice a week, though.”
Sam thought it through; she could do it in the morning before work, and then at around 5:30, 7:30, and 9:30 in the evenings. If she had to wear it for five minutes on a lunch break she probably could, to knock out one of the evening times. He’d said this was during the week, though. Her gaze rose to his eyes. “And on the weekend?”
His smile was maybe just a little too gleeful. “We’ll be together on the weekends, and you’ll be required to submit as often and as long as I say.”
Sam’s insides flared to life. He could set her on fire just by changing his tone of voice, but — remembering his smirk from earlier — she worked hard to keep her face and body relaxed as she said, “You just asked me to marry you yesterday, when did you order the… stuff?”
“Last night after you went to sleep, and I paid extra for expedited shipping.”
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds and he pulled an exam glove and a small bottle of lube from his pocket. “Strip and get on the bed; knees and shoulders, with your arms spread to the side.”
Her pulse jumped to life as his tone of voice changed and her body anticipated the promise of a scene.
Ethan stretched the glove over his large hand while she stripped. His deep voice kept a steady tone as he said, “I’ll be using gloves to finger you, and all the toys and tools will be smooth. I intend to prepare you for my size and length, but I don’t want you accustomed to friction. Nothing in the next four months will give the motion of having your ass fucked. You won’t feel my flesh in your ass, not even fingers, until our honeymoon.”
About the Author:
Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world.
She lives with her husband of 16 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.
Candace writes romance books about strong women who happen to be submissive, and in some cases have some pretty extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work.
You can visit her on the web at candaceblevins.com, and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins, and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins.