Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden Series Book 1) by Vanessa Vale Page A
Authors: Vanessa Vale
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face is like an open book. If you are covered, how will you be able to play with yourself like that? How will I be able to touch them when I desire?"
"You may do so, but not in town. I need a blouse that covers my breasts." She'd tilted up her chin at the ultimatum.
I stood, rising to my full height and I could tell by how her eyes widened, then dropped to the floor, she'd realized her error.
"Did I hear you correctly? Did I hear you tell me when and where I can touch your body?"
Her head lowered even further, her shoulders drooping.
"Did you just tell me what you needed?" I kept my voice low, which seemed to cause fear in Catherine more than shouting. I paused, letting my words sink in. "Very well. You may have a full blouse to go into town."
I took her hand and led her upstairs to our bedroom, spinning her around to undo the buttons of the blouse I'd just put on her. Tossing it on the bed, I went to the closet and picked the training blouse Grant had given me the other day.
I held up the crisp, white blouse and helped a very wary Catherine put her arms into the sleeves. Coming to stand in front of her, she looked quite relieved to see the more abundant amount of material to this garment. It had a high collar and small buttons halfway down the front. It was very similar to the blouse she'd worn on her arrival to town. Toward the bottom, it had the long strips of fabric that wrapped around the waist to button at the back, which I fastened easily. She wouldn't be able to remove the blouse without help. "There. Is that better?" I asked.
Her relief was evident, but she started to shift her shoulders. "Yes, but it's … it's awfully scratchy." She ran her hand over the soft cotton, then higher over her breasts.
"Yes, I've heard it's quite scratchy," I replied as I went to the shelf that held her corks and plugs. "Over to the bar, please. I want to change your cork."
Confusion knit her brow, but she did as told, her upper body wiggling. Once she was in position, I tossed her skirt up high on her back, covering her so that I could only see her from the waist down. I worked the cork from her ass carefully, as all the while Catherine held her breath. Once empty, she exhaled deeply.
"Since your breasts are covered, you will need a much larger cork to remember that you belong to me. People in town need to know that you have been claimed."
"You're going to show them my cork?" she asked, her voice all fear and worry. She panted as I used my lubricated fingers to circle and stretch her ring of muscle, wider and wider. This cork would be the widest I'd used on her yet, several steps up from the one I removed. Between the blouse that would torture her soft skin and tender nipples and the girth of this plug, she'd be one miserable woman today.
"I won't have to." I worked the large cork into her and she groaned, shifted her hips against the burn I knew she felt. I wasn't hurting her, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.
"Jake, it's too much. Oh, God, I...no, please." She pleaded with me as I took my time getting the foreign object in place. Rushing would only harm her and that was not my intention. Taking a good five minutes, she finally opened enough to fit around the cork. By the time I finished, she was panting and her skin was coated in a sheen of sweat.
Pushing down her skirts, I helped her to stand, gripping her elbow as she adjusted back to an upright position. From the way her face was pinched and tight, it was obvious she wasn't happy. Good.
I went to the basin to clean my hands. "I’ll bring the wagon around for you in thirty minutes."
She only nodded as I left her standing there, trying to figure out her latest predicament - a predicament of her own making.
The wagon ride into town was as I'd anticipated. Catherine sat on the bench seat leaning so far forward, she planted her hands on her thighs to keep from tipping over. The cork was so large that she couldn't sit normally and every bump, every jolt of the wheels
"You may do so, but not in town. I need a blouse that covers my breasts." She'd tilted up her chin at the ultimatum.
I stood, rising to my full height and I could tell by how her eyes widened, then dropped to the floor, she'd realized her error.
"Did I hear you correctly? Did I hear you tell me when and where I can touch your body?"
Her head lowered even further, her shoulders drooping.
"Did you just tell me what you needed?" I kept my voice low, which seemed to cause fear in Catherine more than shouting. I paused, letting my words sink in. "Very well. You may have a full blouse to go into town."
I took her hand and led her upstairs to our bedroom, spinning her around to undo the buttons of the blouse I'd just put on her. Tossing it on the bed, I went to the closet and picked the training blouse Grant had given me the other day.
I held up the crisp, white blouse and helped a very wary Catherine put her arms into the sleeves. Coming to stand in front of her, she looked quite relieved to see the more abundant amount of material to this garment. It had a high collar and small buttons halfway down the front. It was very similar to the blouse she'd worn on her arrival to town. Toward the bottom, it had the long strips of fabric that wrapped around the waist to button at the back, which I fastened easily. She wouldn't be able to remove the blouse without help. "There. Is that better?" I asked.
Her relief was evident, but she started to shift her shoulders. "Yes, but it's … it's awfully scratchy." She ran her hand over the soft cotton, then higher over her breasts.
"Yes, I've heard it's quite scratchy," I replied as I went to the shelf that held her corks and plugs. "Over to the bar, please. I want to change your cork."
Confusion knit her brow, but she did as told, her upper body wiggling. Once she was in position, I tossed her skirt up high on her back, covering her so that I could only see her from the waist down. I worked the cork from her ass carefully, as all the while Catherine held her breath. Once empty, she exhaled deeply.
"Since your breasts are covered, you will need a much larger cork to remember that you belong to me. People in town need to know that you have been claimed."
"You're going to show them my cork?" she asked, her voice all fear and worry. She panted as I used my lubricated fingers to circle and stretch her ring of muscle, wider and wider. This cork would be the widest I'd used on her yet, several steps up from the one I removed. Between the blouse that would torture her soft skin and tender nipples and the girth of this plug, she'd be one miserable woman today.
"I won't have to." I worked the large cork into her and she groaned, shifted her hips against the burn I knew she felt. I wasn't hurting her, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.
"Jake, it's too much. Oh, God, I...no, please." She pleaded with me as I took my time getting the foreign object in place. Rushing would only harm her and that was not my intention. Taking a good five minutes, she finally opened enough to fit around the cork. By the time I finished, she was panting and her skin was coated in a sheen of sweat.
Pushing down her skirts, I helped her to stand, gripping her elbow as she adjusted back to an upright position. From the way her face was pinched and tight, it was obvious she wasn't happy. Good.
I went to the basin to clean my hands. "I’ll bring the wagon around for you in thirty minutes."
She only nodded as I left her standing there, trying to figure out her latest predicament - a predicament of her own making.
The wagon ride into town was as I'd anticipated. Catherine sat on the bench seat leaning so far forward, she planted her hands on her thighs to keep from tipping over. The cork was so large that she couldn't sit normally and every bump, every jolt of the wheels
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