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M airead lay motionless across Gunnar's thighs, shocked into silence. Surely what he had threatened was impossible. She had never heard of such a thing.

No one would ever... Would they?

"So, which is it to be?" His tone was low, seductive even. Despite her stunned reaction to his perfectly wicked intention, Mairead could not fail to be aroused by him even so.

"This is a cruel punishment. I spoke without thinking, but?—"

"Not cruel, sweetheart. It will require a lot of trust, but I will not harm you. You know that. Nothing I am about to do offers risk to you, or our baby."

"But, you said..."

"I know what I said, what I am going to do. And you will let me, will you not? You might even help me...?"

"I do not know how," she croaked, close to tears.

"I told you. All you must do is reach back and spread your bottom cheeks for me. Show me your rear hole and ask me to fill it for you."

"Ask you...? I could never?—"

"Then do not ask. I shall fill it in any case, first with my fingers, then my cock. And you, my sweet, will soon get over your current shock and outrage. I believe you will love what I am about to do, if you let yourself."

Mairead could not comprehend such a possibility and actually entertained the notion that her husband had become temporarily deranged.

She resumed her wriggling and squirming, quite determined to escape.

"Please, do not do this. Let me go back to our house.

I swear I will never speak rudely to you again, never doubt you again. "

Gunnar handled her with ease. He allowed her to go nowhere, just held her until she quieted again, then he leaned down to murmur in her ear.

"Trust me, that is all I ask. One finger. You can manage that. You know you can."

"One finger? But you said three. Then your cock."

"Aye, all of that, in time. But we do this in easy stages. So, just one finger, to start with. Will you agree to that?"

Mairead considered her husband's bizarre request. One finger. It did not sound quite so bad, and if this would appease him, perhaps he would be satisfied with that. Even as she formulated her response she knew he would not stop at one finger, but she saw no other option.

"Very well, Gunnar. I will try."

He kissed the back of her head. "Good. I am proud of you. So, will you help as I asked?"

Mairead drew in a long breath, then exhaled.

She dragged in another deep lungful of purifying air then, thus fortified, she reached back.

First her left hand, then her right. She grasped the fleshy cheeks of her bottom and pulled them apart.

The act itself was mortifying. His gaze on her felt physical, as though he actually touched her, her most private place exposed for his perusal.

"You are so beautiful, Mairead, and never more than when you submit to me in this way." He spoke softly, little above a whisper. Mairead's belly twisted and something warm began to unfurl. How was it possible he could arouse her even in this manner?

"Will it hurt?" she whimpered.

"Maybe, a little, but never more than you can bear. I must stretch you, but we will go slowly and I will wait if you ask me to. You will have all the time you need."

"Th-thank you," she managed, pitifully grateful for this apparent concession.

"You are most welcome, my love. Now, could I seek your further assistance? Would you be so good as to lick my finger? You must ensure that you wet it all over as this will aid in lubricating the way."

Oh. Dear sweet Lord . Mairead swallowed, at once conscious of the dryness in her mouth. The one time she could wish for moisture and she had failed already.

"I cannot," she wailed. "My mouth is like sawdust."

"This will not do." Gunnar lifted her so that she was perched up on his knee then leaned to one side and extended his left arm to cup his hand under the cascade of cool water streaming down the rock face behind him.

He brought the refreshing, sparkling water to her mouth.

"Drink," he commanded, tipping the cool liquid over her parched lips.

Mairead relished the sensation of the frigid water in her throat. She licked her lips and Gunnar soon brought more water to her mouth. Only after the third drink from his cupped hand did she thank him again and declare herself sated.

"Ah, then perhaps now you might oblige me..." He presented the middle finger of his right hand, his requirement clear.

Mairead opened her mouth and poked out her tongue. She took several seconds to thoroughly lick the extended digit, then sat back. "Is that enough," she asked.

"We shall soon see." He tilted his chin in a gesture to indicate she should resume her earlier position. Mairead obeyed, and in moments lay across his thighs once more. She reached back and parted her cheeks without being asked again.

Gunnar was gentle, she could not deny that.

He circled her tight hole with the tip of his moist finger, teasing and pressing, and were it not for the decadent intimacy of his touch she might have thought he played a game with her.

There was nothing of the urgent in his caress.

Rather he tempted and tantalised, he sought, claimed perhaps, but never demanded.

Despite herself, despite her fear and apprehension, Mairead relaxed under his delicate touch.

He soothed her, reassured, calmed, and eventually she sighed as the tip of his finger entered her.

He paused, waited for her to adjust, to accept what was happening, then he started to circle again.

Now, though, he was inside her, easing her puckered entrance to loosen, to open for him.

She still held her cheeks apart but she found it harder to maintain her grip now.

Her hands were boneless, her fingers feeble.

"You may let go now, if you wish."

Mairead was thankful for the reprieve and tucked her hands beneath her.

She closed her eyes and allowed her muscles to soften, her thoughts to drift as her husband worked his wicked magic.

She was aware that he pressed harder, eased first one knuckle past her entrance, then the next.

It felt odd, not quite pleasant, but maybe something oddly similar to that.

It was not painful, certainly, and perhaps there was a hint of sensuality.

Were she pressed to name it, Mairead's overwhelming response was one of utter humiliation.

Her husband was exerting his absolute power over her.

She knew it, he knew it, and she found that realisation quite breathtaking and utterly erotic.

"Gunnar," she breathed. "Please..."

"Am I hurting you?"

"No. It is... not unpleasant."

"Ah," he acknowledged. Then perhaps we might venture to add a second finger now."

"Will you require me to lick it?"

"No, not this time. I find you have quite sufficient wetness here to ease the way for us."

Mairead gasped as he withdrew his finger, then slid his entire hand over and through her soft folds. He rubbed the tip of her most sensitive nubbin as he passed and she writhed in sudden arousal.

"Oh. Oh, my goodness, that is... oh!"

You like this part?" He continued to stroke and caress, gathering up her juices on his deft fingers.

"You know that I do, Gunnar."

"In that case, turn around and lean on the rocks. Lift your bottom up high and spread your legs wide for me."

Mairead was past the point where she might have questioned anything he instructed her to do.

Her obedience was instant and soon she was on all fours on the edge of the pond, her husband behind her in the water.

He had a perfect view of her quivering cunny, but she found she no longer cared.

Gone entirely were her earlier feelings of vulnerability.

Her inhibitions were shattered and it mattered not that what he was doing was so wicked.

All that concerned her now was how he might make her feel.

"Gunnar, please..."

"Patience, my sweet. I promised you two fingers next, so you shall have them.

Two in here..." he drove the digits of his left hand into her cunt, and slid the middle finger on his other hand back into her arse.

He drew it in and out several times, "..

.and two in here." He inserted a second digit into her straining rear hole.

The sensation of fullness was powerful, almost overwhelming. Mairead squealed, and could not stop herself from flinching.

"Too much, too fast. We go slower, then.

" He curled the fingers in her cunny to caress that spot inside which he knew would drive her into a frenzy of need.

She was so preoccupied with the powerful sensations rippling through her inner walls that she almost did not notice when he started to twist and rotate his fingers in her arse.

Almost, but not quite. There was no pain though, just a feeling of being stretched and impossibly full. The double penetration both thrilled and scared her, but she could not help squeezing around his exploring digits.

"Ah, you are liking this a little more now, I suspect. Am I right, Mairead?"

"It... it is peculiar. But, yes, I do like it. I think."

"And this?" He withdrew his fingers from her cunt to replace them with his thumb.

His fingers were now able to reach her most sensitive pleasure nubbin and he went to work there, rubbing, pressing, squeezing.

Mairead could not quite comprehend what hit her.

Arousal burst from deep within her core, shards of shimmering, whispering light seemed to shoot to her fingers and toes, to the very ends of her hair.

Her climax was upon her, almost instantaneous, powerful, gripping and scrambling her senses.

Her rear hole stretched further. There was a pinch of pain and she knew he was inserting that third finger, but she no longer cared.

Awash with pleasure, drowning in sensual delight, she was utterly relaxed. He could do with her as he pleased.