Page 104 of Veiled Flames
Taking it in my hand, I aim it over my back exit and twist it against the tight hole. The grease at its tip is cold but the sensation is oddly pleasant. The way Tynan and the others have talked about drilling bum holes, using it as a threat, I’veassumed it would be excruciatingly painful for the one being drilled. But so many of my assumptions have proved invalid.
Gathering courage, I bend forward to more fully part my bum cheeks, and then press the disk firmly.
I gasp as the tip of the object slips inside me. It wasn’t as painful as I expected, so I push it harder, but don’t get very far. The object’s girth expands quickly from its tip, and I’m not sure my arm has the power to push it in from this angle. Or perhaps I lack the courage to try.
Getting an idea, I shuffle to the wall beside the fireplace. Bent over, I back up, so that the base of the trainer is against the wall and I feel the pressure of its tip pushing more firmly inside me.
My breaths come quickly, mostly from fear, but I need to try this. It’s the only way to know if Saxon is right. The only way to know if I should give up my dream.
Using the force of my legs, I push back. The bulbous part of the trainer stretches my opening, and I wince at the burning pain. I stop for a moment to breathe slowly, to decide whether or not I dare progress.
As I get used to the pain, I decide to give it one last try. I push back, and the entire object invades my body. In fact, once I get past a certain point, it’s as if my sphincter sucked in the trainer.
I gasp. Burning pain radiates but quickly subsides, replaced instead by an intense sense of fullness. Still bent forward, I’m filled with awe and then glee.I did it. If this trainer fits inside me, perhaps a dragon’s pommel will too.
Slowly, I straighten my body, and the object adjusts to the new position. Having the trainer inside me is oddly arousing—almostas if I can feel the pressure against my cleft channel, which is starting to throb and dampen.
Standing straight, I consider how long I should hold the trainer inside me. Roule instructed us to wear it for as long as we could tolerate.
Well, I can tolerate it all night if it hastens when I can first try mounting a dragon. Something I’m going to do, even if the dragon masters try to exile me from camp.
I step forward, tentatively at first and then more quickly, walking back and forth across the room, getting used to the feeling of the trainer inside me. My bottom feels full, and yet I’m not uncomfortable—not exactly. And as I move, the motion is undeniably pleasurable.
The only part that gives me any discomfort is the disk at the trainer’s end, pushing out against the flesh of my bottom, but as I walk it settles into a comfortable place, no longer pinching my flesh. It must be there to facilitate removal—especially given how, once my body yielded, it sucked in the egg-shaped stone.
I pace the room many times, becoming used to the fullness, and becoming more and more aroused by the pressure it’s transferring to other parts of me. My arousal adds to my confusion about my own body, and adds to my irritation that I wasted so many years of my life without any knowledge of the pleasures of sex. Nurse should have taught me. Father should have ensuredsomeonetaught me.
Lowering myself gingerly onto the chair, I try sitting back on it. One sits on a dragon’s pommel, after all. The disk feels uncomfortable between my ass cheeks, so I move to the bed to try against something softer. On the mattress, I tuck up my legsand roll forward and back, feeling the added pressure each time I roll over the trainer’s end.
My arousal continues to rise. Snapping open the front flaps of my breeches, I slip my hand inside, finding my cleft damp and sensitive. I slide a fingertip over my button. It’s the first time I’ve touched this place since Saxon revealed its magic.
Closing my eyes, I imagine it’s notmyfinger playing with the sensitive nub. And I imagine that, instead of a trainer lodged in my bottom, there is a hard cock sliding in and out of my cleft hole. I don’t want to include the face of the man wielding this rod, and yet it alternates between Saxon and Tynan. I hate both men, and wish I could imagine someone else,anyoneelse. But each time I try, the face switches back.
Fires between my legs build, until a small explosion detonates inside me. My head tips back and I cry out. My body spasms, heightening the pleasure I’m receiving from the trainer inside me.
But my pleasure’s interrupted by a knock on the door.
Without awaiting a response, Tynan rudely bursts into my room.
I bolt off the bed, the trainer still dug in my backside, and I smooth the front of my breeches, grateful I only loosened my flaps, leaving the garment on.
Did Tynan see what I was doing? Can he tell I’m aroused? My animosity toward him expands at his rude interruption, and it’s fueled by my embarrassment.
Tynan on the other hand doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed or sorry. The only thing I see flashing in his eyes is joy. He’s grinning ear to ear, his cheeks are reddened, his hair wind tousled, and his firm body presses out against his riding uniform, as if wanting to escape the leather’s confines.
The tempting masculine display activates a strong stab of longing inside me. My body clenches around the trainer, and my cleft channel pulses. My cheeks are flaming like I’ve been doused in scalding water, but I’m not certain whether embarrassment, anger, or arousal is most to blame for that particular affliction.
But my undeniable physical attraction just makes me angrier. How dare he entice me so? How dare he look so handsome and happy after what he did to me today?
“What are you doing here!” I snap.
Tynan’s massive grin fades, and he bows his head slightly. “Forgive my intrusion. I just returned from the veil, and you were the first person, theonlyperson, I wanted to see or talk to about it.”
“The veil?” I shake my head, doubting his words. He’s only trying to distract me from his intrusion. “How did you get past the guards at my door?”
He chuckles. “Those guards, my dear Rosomon, are positioned to prevent your exit, not myentrance.” Staring into my eyes, he emphasizes the last word, and it fuels my desire. But then reignites my temporarily tamed anger.
“You betrayed me.” I glare at him. “You revealed my secret, after giving me your word that you wouldn’t.”
