Claiming Catherine (Montana Maiden Series Book 1) Read online

  “Sweetheart, I can see that it's causing you discomfort. When I fuck you, you're going to have cum dribbling from you all the time. You don't want your pretty pussy to be a mess like this, do you?”

  Tears started again. Mortified, I just stood there as I watched my husband's large fingers tug uncomfortably in my pubic hair. I couldn't speak, couldn't watch anymore so I shut my eyes, squeezed them tight in shame. I couldn't answer him other than shaking my head.

  He brushed a tear away.

  “I'll clean the ointment from you first, then shave you. Come across my lap.”

  My eyes flew open at his words. Shave? Down there? I opened her mouth to argue, but when I saw his raised eyebrow, I said nothing and did as he bid. This was another fight where I couldn't win. It seemed I couldn't win at all.

  I bent forward over his lap, my bottom in the air. My feet were on the wood floor on one side of his legs and my upper body on the bed beside him. This was awful! I felt like a child being scolded, punished.

  Jake began running the cloth over my bottom, with one cheek spread wide. “You may not understand my rules, but they're for your safety, your health or because I just know what's best. Just as keeping your pussy bare will minimize your discomfort once my seed dries upon you.”

  He hooked his ankle around one of my feet and pulled back, exposing me. I couldn't see his face as mine was buried in the soft blanket on the bed, but I knew he looked there. I could feel the ointment coating me, having worked it's way down to my spread thighs. I moaned into the quilt to muffle it.

  I heard a knock. Was that the door? Oh God. No! I jumped at the idea of someone seeing me like this. Naked, exposed over my husband's lap.

  “Come in,” Jake called, holding me down with a firm hand on my upper back.

  I tensed and struggled, but he didn't let me up, nor relent on his cleaning. He continued his ministrations as if we didn't have an audience. I turned my head slightly and peeked through my tousled hair. Sam stood in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the space. He was sweaty and dusty as if he'd just come from the barn.

  “You wanted to know when the mare was ready to foal,” Sam said, his gaze raking over my prone body.

  I clenched at his voice and felt the slippery wetness coating my little back hole.

  “The pill was a little messy,” Jake told them as if speaking about a recalcitrant child, moving the cloth lower over my pussy. "She refused her cork."

  “Oh, baby, that's a shame,” Sam said, sounding disappointed the pill had seeped out. I buried my face in the blanket and wept.

  "I was about to clean her up, get her pill and cork in, then shave her, but since the mare's foaling, I can do the shaving later."

  I cried out, not in tears, but in surprise, when Jake brushed over a spot between my spread legs. He'd spread the slippery ointment around so that it coated my entire woman's core, my bottom. I couldn't help but to shift into his touch, all but writhing in his lap at the instant pleasure. What was that? I raised up on my elbows to turn and look at Jake. I felt my face flush, my hair wild and in my eyes.

  “What's happening to me?” I gasped, confused.

  “Is there something wrong, sweetheart? I cleaned it all up.”

  I shook my head, completely confused. I was laying over my husband's lap, naked, with his brother watching. His brother!

  "Please, I don't want Sam to see me like this!"

  "Then you shouldn't have let the medicine seep out." Jake sighed, and I felt his disappointment keenly.

  Jake helped me to stand back up as Sam watched.

  I was naked while he was fully dressed. I tried to shield my breasts and felt a tingling, an ache in my nipples. I brushed my palms over the tips and cried out with a surprise wave of pleasure. It felt so good. I moaned and glanced at the Jake. He was smiling at me. I dropped my hands to my sides and squeezed them tightly into fists.

  "I need to hear the words, Catherine," Jake said, in a deep tone I was coming to recognize he used when he was disappointed with me. "You want the pill shoved in your ass and held in there with a cork?"

  I closed my eyes for a moment, drawing up the courage to say the words. "Yes, Jake."

  “That's my girl,” he replied, his voice warm.

  He didn't yell, didn't shout, but I knew when he was displeased, which seemed quite frequent even though we'd been married less than a day. At those moments, I felt terrible, guilty. Ashamed. But when he praised, it lit me up inside, like a candle brightening a dark room. I would try my best to do as Jake said, for he seemed to know what I needed now. I wanted to please him, to please all of them. Montana was a new world to me. Marriage was new to me as well, and Jake's expectations were a surprise. He’d been nothing but kind, and I'd only been contrary to him. But adding his brothers into this new life by letting them see me, naked and exposed? I was completely out of my element, completely lost, and my body was betraying me. How could I fight the feelings of my body?

  “Grab hold of the bar then,” Jake added.

  If only Mr. Beecham could see me now! One small button at my neck was an irrelevant gesture of indecency in comparison to being naked under the eyes of the Bridger men. I had no doubt Cole would see me in compromising positions as well. What my husband was doing to me went beyond any consideration of intimacy I ever considered between a married couple. I was to let him do this to me every day knowing his brothers might appear at any time? I was supposed to revel in having something wedged inside of me? The man might be handsome and pleasing to the eye, but this had me reconsidering. But later. For now, it appeared I was to have my bottom filled.

  Chapter Four

  Jake

  Catherine took a deep breath, nodding her final acceptance of the cork. The nod made her breasts bounce ever so slightly. Did she know her nipples were tight and hard and a bright shade of pink from her awakening arousal? With her standing, I could see between her thighs that her large pussy lips were full and swollen, and her clit was pushing out toward us, as if it wanted one of us to rub it.

  She immediately obeyed, her brain already partially focused on the pulsing need within her body. The aphrodisiac was even in the ointment I spread over her hole and used to work my fingers, then the pill, deep inside her ass, and was beginning to take effect. The pill, although it had softened and seeped out, was a large honeymoon dose, as the doctor called it, extra large with the dried, ground up plant to make her arousal progress swiftly. It was for the first few days of marriage to help aid in a wife's quick submission. I would have to watch her closely and switch to the smaller pill when I found her level of arousal satisfactory. That would come when she was begging me to fuck her, when she would docilely accept my control of her body without question.

  “Sam's going to fill you this time, sweetheart."

  "What? No, Jake. Please, no." Catherine's voice was pleading, and I could see tears streak down her face once again.

  "You should have thought of that when you didn't listen to me. Besides, Sam's going to marry shortly and he needs the practice for when he does this to his own wife. Think of this as not just training for you, but training for him as well.”

  "No, no. That's not right," she said, her voice frantic.

  "Catherine," I said, my voice low in a tone she would come to recognize as one where I would not be accommodating. "Who thought it was best to skip her medicine?"

  "I did," she sobbed.

  "Who promised she could keep the pill in her ass?"

  Tears streamed down her face, her chest heaving, which only made her breasts sway in a most appealing manner. "I did."

  "This is the second time we've had this discussion, one more than I consider necessary. I know what's best for you." I eyed her sternly. "If I'm ever out on the range, far from the house and unable to remove your cork when required, Sam and Cole will need to do it then. Don't forget, you asked for me to put it in."

  I twisted the situation around so she felt that I was the one sacrificing, making allowances in our relat
ionship for her. Catherine would soon accept that she couldn't tend to some of her most basic needs without assistance, that she would need to ask for help, not only from me but from my brothers as well. It was humiliating, and ultimately, truly submissive. The sooner she learned this, the better.

  I sighed to show her my weariness of her complaining. "If you had listened to me last night, we wouldn't still be at this juncture. We could be moving on to more...enjoyable aspects of being married. You have yet to complete the most basic of tasks of being my wife. Now bend over."

  She didn't stop crying, but she obeyed.

  Sam winked at me, clearly looking forward to his participation. With his fingers dipped in more ointment, he rimmed the opening of her ass in ever increasing circles until a dark opening appeared. "This is one gorgeous ass. So tight. She's clamping down on my finger. You're a lucky man, Jake," Sam said.

  "You'll have a wife of your own soon enough, brother," I replied.

  Sam worked another honeymoon pill I handed him into her ass, all the while Catherine sobbing that it was too much and begging for him to stop. Not that either of us listened. Once beyond the clenching muscle, he slid it in deep with a finger so it was lodged within, filling her. She groaned, her head hanging down between her extended arms.

  "Cork or plug?" he asked me.

  "Cork." I went to the shelf and chose the one I wanted from the selection I left out so that Catherine could look at the various sizes and shapes that would be selected to fill her.

  I gave it to Sam and watched as he inserted and adjusted it so it fit just right. It was still small, a training size, but bigger than the one I'd inserted the night before. I gently pulled on her arm, helped her stand.

  “Remember, if you need to use the washroom, you just let one of us know and we'll take the cork out for you.”

  Catherine blushed furiously, down her neck across her dainty collarbones and to the tips of her breasts as she shifted her feet, unused to the cork. “I need to tell you?”

  Sam chuckled. “You can't get that cork out on your own, can you? Don't worry, we'll wait for you then put it right back in.”

  Shaking her head, she looked between us. “That's private. I can't share—”

  “You'll have your privacy inside the washroom once the cork or plug is removed. Don't you worry your pretty head about that. There are some things that you can take care of on your own. But we're married now, sweetheart," I told her. "There's nothing about you I won't know. Cole and Sam, too.” I tapped the training cork with my finger. Not wanting to dwell on this topic, it was time to move on. She had other things to learn.

  I gave Sam a subtle look.

  "I better get back to that mare," Sam said. "Listen to Jake, darlin'. He'll take real good care of you."

  "I'll be out as soon as I get Catherine dressed."

  Sam nodded to me, winked at Catherine, then left.

  She stood, all wild and tousled, completely overwhelmed and miserable, her cheeks tear stained.

  I pulled a corset from the dresser.

  “Slip your arms in here,” I told her, guiding her hands through the corset's straps. She complied with docility and a few sniffles. I went behind her, reached around and wrapped her new corset about her waist, adjusting it so it fit directly beneath her breasts. They were so full, so ample to fill my hands.

  The corset laced from behind so she required assistance when dressing.

  Catherine looked down and watched as I tightened the strings. “Where's my old corset? Something's wrong with this one,” she commented, her forehead crinkled in confusion.

  Once the corset was tightened and tied, I came around her, looking at how it fit. "You don't need your old one anymore." The white cotton had metal stays in it, the material covering about four inches of her belly beneath her breasts, with a dart in the fabric to lift them up high, giving her ample support and comfort for her abundant size while keeping her breasts completely exposed. Breasts were one of a woman's best attributes and it was important for Catherine to have them available and visible at all times. Catherine's were full, perfect pale globes, her nipples pert. Her shoulders were pulled back with the tightened laces, forcing her to stand tall. Her breasts thrust out even further since she stood with her ass pushed out to accommodate the large cork.

  “It looks perfect to me,” I said, running a knuckle over one nipple and watched it furl tightly. She gasped and closed her eyes at the brief touch.

  “They're not covered!”

  “They're not supposed to be covered, sweetheart,” I said.

  "What do you mean, not covered?"

  “Once you're ripe with my seed, sweetheart, they'll grow large with milk, your nipples full and sore. Covering them will only cause you discomfort,” I told her.

  "Don't I get a blouse?"

  "Of course you do. Let's get a skirt on you first,” I said as I left her and went to the closet. She stood there, hands on her exposed breasts, stunned. She'd always covered them, hid them in the confines of a citified corset, so this new style would require serious adjustment.

  “Your nipples are so pretty,” I crooned. “Look how tight and furled they are. Can you feel them getting sensitive?”

  Holding the waist of the dark blue cotton skirt open for her, she put a hand on my arm to steady herself as she stepped in. I slid the fabric up her legs to her waist, buttoning it at the side as the material covered her to her ankles. All the while she watched her breasts shift and sway.

  Oh, she was becoming completely docile from the effects of the ointment. The amount in the first few pills was more than normal, but never too much to overdo. Innocent as she was, she was unfamiliar with its effects—arousal and all its signs—and it had taken over quickly, just as we suspected it would.

  “I don't have any bloomers,” she said, more of a statement than a complaint.

  “You don't need any,” I said. “Over to the bar.”

  "Why do I have to keep using the bar?" she asked.

  “I could just have you put your hands on a wall and bend over, but this makes it more like a ritual. I will tend to your needs here, and it will soon become something you look forward to, bending over like this. If you require our attention, all you have to do is go to the bar and we'll know what you need. There are bars all around the house just like this one.”

  “I don't think I want to be taken care of this way,” I said.

  "You don't have to like it, sweetheart, you just have to do it."

  Tears welled in her eyes again as she followed my direction, her breasts jiggling slightly on the way, even bent over at the waist without being told. I tossed up her skirt so I could see her pussy.

  Her breasts hung down. Her exposed pussy lips were now puffy and swollen, her clit practically throbbing. The cork spread her ass cheeks nicely and stretched the membrane of her opening to its current limit.

  “This is why you have no drawers, baby,” I said. “If you need me to fuck you, all you have to do is grab on to the bar. I'll lift your skirt and fill you.”

  I ran my finger ever so lightly down her glistening slit, from her corked ass to her turgid clit. She cried out in pleasure, but I didn't let her linger, let her have time to assess that feeling. I pulled her back up and let her stand there, skin flushed a lovely pink as I went to get her blouse.

  I held it out for her as she slipped one arm into the long sleeve, then the other. It fit over her shoulders like a normal blouse, then the white cotton wrapped low across the front of her body beneath her breasts in two long panels that crossed and wrapped around, buttoning at her lower back. It covered her like a city blouse, except that her breasts were completely exposed.

  “I can't go out like this,” she wailed, looking down at herself. "This isn't a blouse!"

  "This is what my wife wears."

  "You don't expect me to go out in public like this, do you? To church?"

  I looked at her as if she were crazy for suggesting the idea. "Of course not. You will wear a special s
carf that will cross over your breasts that also buttons in the back."

  "Then why can't I wear it now?" Catherine started to cry again. I inwardly sighed at this annoyance, but knew this was how she would handle her training. I would much prefer arousal to tears, but I would have to be patient. That would come soon enough.

  "Because I am your husband and I want to see your breasts. Always."

  "I can't," she wailed.

  “Of course you can. Soon enough, you're going to want to touch your nipples all the time. It's too much work opening your shirt up,” I said.

  "Why...why would I want to do that?" she asked, her eyes glistening with tears, glancing down at her exposed chest in confusion.

  I brushed my knuckles over her erect nipples.

  "Did it feel good when I did that?"

  She gasped and bit her lip, afraid to say.

  "Touch yourself," Jake said.

  She resisted. "Catherine," I scolded. "Remember what happens when you don't listen?"

  She lifted her hands and ran them over her breasts and cried out, her head falling back. I could see her nipples tighten even further.

  "See?" I asked. "Now imagine if I put my mouth on you there." I leaned in close, whispered in her ear. It was amazing to see how the pill was working ─ when she wasn't crying. It weakened her inhibitions while easing her arousal. With the honeymoon dose, it happened so quickly, so I was very pleased. I had to remember to thank the doctor the next time I saw him. He was a mighty smart man, and I now knew his future wife would surely be obedient and devoted.

  Catherine

  By the time I was dressed, or as covered as I could be considering what Jake had me wear, it was time for dinner. The housekeeper, Maura, had prepared food if I remembered her name correctly. Jake told me she'd come and gone on purpose, wanting me to settle in before becoming acquainted. My emotions were on shaky footing, to say the least, so I was relieved I didn't have to meet the woman.

  Besides that, I was half naked in the dining room. How could I hold a conversation with my breasts on full display? I'd never seen them lifted and thrust forth in such a manner. Instead of trying to minimize my bust line as I'd done since I was sixteen, it seemed Jake had the opposite intent in mind. Mr. Beecham had scorned me for having one button undone. He'd called me a slattern for just that small infraction, so what would I be called if he saw me now?