His by Carolyn Faulkner (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

that contained every possible plug, dildo, and vibrator he could get his hands on, all brand new for use on Raina. If they ever parted - and he didn't think that would be for some time, if ever - he would trash them all and buy new ones if he ever became interested in someone else.

Somehow, he thought as he pondered which of them to insert first, he couldn't imagine that his sex life could get any better with anyone else. While they were courting, before he'd ordered her to move in with him, he'd required that she keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings and email them to him each evening. He had taken an unusual step with her - he had refused to allow her sexual completion of any sort when she was not living under his roof. And he had strictly prohibited her from pleasing herself - and he knew she'd obey him because she'd gone stark white when he'd described the punishment that would result if he ever found out she'd disobeyed him in that manner.

Their courtship - from the time they'd confessed their mutual and particular interests to each other - lasted three months, and he knew that she was slowly going crazy from the celibacy from the fervor that had overtaken her journal installments. And he also knew from reading them how almost frighteningly compatible they were.

He turned back to her after selecting a plug that fulfilled his usual modus operandi. It was purple, and perhaps an inch and a quarter around at the largest point. It was shaped somewhat like a bullet, with a large flange that would keep it from entering her further than he wanted it to, so that he could occupy himself with other interesting parts of her body.

He was just as cautious about not overextending that other intriguing playground of hers, and was quite proud that he hadn't. She was still as sweetly virginal there as she had been when he'd first tested her obedience and placed a very small, pencil thin vibrator against that wrinkled opening.

One of the things that had caught his eye about her nightly missives was her innocent anal curiosity. It was almost as if she thought he was going to be angry with her if she brought her desires up to him when they were together, so one evening, before she'd come to live under his roof, he'd called her to him where he sat at the head of the huge dining table, and had her lie over his lap.

She'd done exactly as she was told, and he told her how proud he was of her. It was still relatively early in their relationship, and he would back the praise off considerably once he'd tamed her more to his hand. He'd put a mirror on the floor by her head - he desperately wanted to watch her eyes as he violated her for the first time this way, but this position, which he favored for its inherent intimacy, didn't lend itself to being able to stare her in the face.

And it was truly the incredible experience he'd hoped it would be - she'd gasped and her eyes had gone starkly round as he'd pressed that tiny thing inside her. She'd sworn that she hadn't had anything in there since the last time her parents had taken her temperature rectally, and it wasn't really until that very moment that he believed she'd been telling the absolute truth.

Now, of course, he didn't have to be quite as gentle as he'd been with her at first, although you wouldn't know it from the way she reacted. Each time was very nearly the first, based on her reactions, which were still to be that shyly humiliated ingenue she'd been when she'd first come to him, despite her chronological age. He took incredible amounts of pleasure in despoiling her angelic body and surprising that wide eyed innocence of hers repeatedly, and in what was sometimes the most venal of manners.

She had automatically put herself into the position he required when she was on this table - unless he'd specified something else - with her head well down, resting on the nest of her own arms, her bottom raised at a natural angle by the way her legs were folded beneath her. He had several pillows - some custom made to his specifications - with which he could easily raise and lower the height of her private bits.

When he'd had a carpenter come to talk about what he wanted, he'd required that Raina assume this exact position - fully clothed of course, in an extremely expensive pants suit. But it was humiliating, none the less, and she had spent her time trying not to lock eyes with the apoplectic stranger.

He tapped her folded legs further apart and bade her rise onto all fours as he put the plug down and stripped off his shirt. Her master wasn't the kind of man who, even when he was enjoying some rare down time, enjoyed being a slob. His jeans were pressed and creased, as were his golf shirts. He didn't own a t-shirt and never intended to, although he'd changed somewhat since meeting her. When they'd first come together, his closet had held row after row of conservative suits and shirts, but only a few casual outfits. Now, that casual section had gotten somewhat bigger, and included a nice array of jeans of differing styles and colors, along with one - count it one - pair of shorts. He was of the opinion that men in general had ugly legs, and thought his were that much uglier because of the preponderance of muscle in his calves and thighs. But she'd been able to do what no other person on this Earth could have - she'd talked him into it.

He was, however, relatively proud of his chest - not that he doted on his physicality at all. He did what exercise was