Don't Miss
Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / An Old-Fashioned Marriage by Ashlynn Ally – Extended Preview

An Old-Fashioned Marriage by Ashlynn Ally – Extended Preview

Once we’ve arrived home, I’ve barely got my coat off when Mickey starts ordering me around. “March straight upstairs to the bedroom,” he directs, pointing his finger as if I might have forgotten which way I’m to go. “You will strip down to the nude, and be changed into your housecoat by the time I arrive. Do you understand me, Annalyse?”

For a moment, I’m startled to hear myself be referred to by a name that’s not my own. It takes me a moment to get my bearings enough to recall I am Annalyse in this life, not Alysa. “Yes, sir,” I manage to mumble out my answer, before ducking furtively upstairs.

As soon as I shut the bedroom door behind me, my heart starts beating wildly. Mickey wants me stripped nude! Oh, if only he knew how tantalizing I find his instructions, I’m sure he’d be none too pleased about how much I’m actually enjoying his punishment. Although the prospect of getting the hairbrush isn’t something I’m exactly pleased about, there is definitely something exciting about this whole process that I certainly can’t deny.

I do as Mickey asked, and when he enters the room several minutes later, I’m waiting for him on the bed in my robe. Appraising me with a smoldering gaze, he stalks over to the vanity table and parks himself on the dainty stool, which is actually quite comical considering Mickey’s sturdy build. Then he picks up the heavy antique wooden hairbrush and, keeping his eyes on me the whole time, smacks it a few times lightly against his palm.

“Well,” Mickey says in a prompting way, raising his eyebrows at me. “You know what’s expected of you. Come. Over my lap, where you’ll be receiving a very harsh lesson in proper etiquette indeed.”

Swallowing hard, I rise from my place on the edge of the bed and walk slowly to Mickey, my hands going clammy and my feet dragging. Once I’m standing before him, I hesitate, as it seems like bending myself over his lap would be the equivalent of wandering out into the middle of a firing squad.

Mickey flicks a glance up at me, annoyed. “And just what are you waiting for, young lady?” he demands. “Expose your bottom at once, and position yourself over my knees so I can finish what I started in the car outside the restaurant.”

His severe tone tells me I should think better of doing anything other than obeying him. Quickly yet still reluctantly, I lift my robe over my hips, exposing my bare butt and legs to the draft in the room. Then I ease myself gingerly over his lap. Instantly, my feet rise up into the air and my hands plant themselves firmly onto the floor. Hanging upside down like that, I suddenly feel the effects of the alcohol again, and for a moment the room spins.

Then I feel Mickey taking me around the waist, propping me up in a way so that the lower part of my bottom is facing directly toward the ceiling. I suddenly lose any remainder of a buzz I might have had as I realize what’s about to go down. I know with my skin pulled so tight, and the muscles of my bottom pressed so forcefully to the surface, the spanking is bound to hurt all that much more.

“Oh, please, Mickey.” I can already feel my voice cracking as I anticipate what’s to come. “I didn’t mean to be so rude in the restaurant… it was the alcohol. That’s all.”

“Now, Lyssie,” Mickey starts, and I’m surprised to hear his voice is nearly gentle. “You know it hurts me to be on the giving end of your spankings just as much as it hurts you to be on the receiving end, but I can’t have you behaving in public like some ill-mannered miscreant. Do you understand?”

I suppose he’s right. Everything I’d done wrong tonight had most likely been drilled into Annalyse’s head as unacceptable from the time she was a small child. It’s really no wonder Mickey finds cause to punish me now. “Yes, sir,” I finally grumble, feeling my upturned bottom prickle in anticipation of the first strike.

“Very well then,” Mickey sighs, and I can feel him drawing back his hand with the brush in preparation to swing it down onto my bare butt. “Now I’m going to thoroughly spank every inch of these naughty bottom cheeks, and I’m not going to stop until I’m assured we won’t ever be having a repeat of your performance tonight anytime in the future.”

True to his words, Mickey immediately begins working my buttocks with the hairbrush, being sure to cover the entire surface evenly before starting again. Though the room sounds like there are fireworks going off inside it, it isn’t until the third round that the burning really sets in and I start letting my displeasure known.

“Ow! Mickey! Stop! Please! It hurts so bad!” Frenziedly kicking my legs back and forth, I reach back to plaster my palm over my bottom in an attempt to shield it from further blows. I don’t consider the fact that if the hairbrush were to accidentally land on the back of my hand, it may cause serious damage.

Luckily, Mickey freezes immediately. Peeking over my shoulder, I see his arm raised up in mid-swing, and his face set in a stony, concentrated state.

“Put your hands on the floor,” he instructs, and the severity in his voices makes me follow his directions immediately. “Use them to cover your bottom again, and we’ll take an intermission from this spanking in order for me to take a ruler to your knuckles as if you were an unruly schoolgirl. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I say quickly, my voice quaking with dread at the thought. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s better,” Mickey says, and then goes on spanking me with the brush. Over and over again, he applies each smack with precise purpose, my flesh smarting fiercely with every blow until my eyes are flowing with tears and the only sounds I can make are distressed howls. “Are you starting to learn your lesson yet, you naughty little thing?” he asks, continuing to spank me though slowing down in the speed of the delivery in which the hairbrush meets with my throbbing butt cheeks.

I’m sobbing so hard, it takes me a moment to catch my breath enough to answer him. “Yes!” I finally manage to get out through a muffled, choked tone. “I’m sorry! I won’t ever behave like that again.”

“So you mean to say that, from now on while we’re in restaurants, you’ll let your husband order your drinks and your meal for you, the way a proper young housewife should?”

I can sense the brush hovering right over my roasting backside, which provides me just enough relief to answer him in a timely manner. “Yes! I’m sorry, sir.” Truth to be told, I had little indication this was even the reason he was spanking me—though I’ve certainly received the hint at this point.

Smack! I get another hard dose of the hairbrush that causes me to screech out in pain. “And you won’t pick up any more silverware from off the floor?” Mickey goes on, ignoring my cries of pain and smacking me yet again. “Or complain about our fellow dining patrons?”

“No, no!” I quickly swear up and down, yelping yet again from another swat. “I promise, Mickey! I’ll never do any of it again…”

“Very well,” Mickey finally says in an acquiescing manner. With my tears subsiding, I breathe a long, quavering sigh of reprieve as the spanks stop and I feel a caressing hand over my bum instead, tracing my skin just lightly. “Though I’m not through with you yet, young lady, I’d wager to say you’ve learned a very good lesson over my knees tonight.”

All of a sudden, I’m confused. Though the last part of Mickey’s sentence sounded comforting, the first part has me nervous all over again. “You’re not through with me?” I repeat, my voice shaking ever so slightly.

“No, not at all,” Mickey goes on in a brisk manner. “In fact, I have a little surprise I’ve been meaning to bestow upon you for a while now, and if you stand up and go bend over the end of the bed there, I’ll go ahead and give it to you now.”

I freeze, even more confused than before. Mickey’s instructions most certainly sound completely foreboding, yet his tone seems pleased about this whole thing. Nevertheless, I’m reluctant to move from Mickey’s lap, even though I’d just been in a great deal of pain in this position mere moments ago.

“What kind of surprise?” I fish around for a little bit more of a clue.

“Don’t ask questions, my love,” Mickey snaps, growing annoyed. “When I give you a direction, I expect it to be followed. Or do you need a little bit more encouragement from your friend the hairbrush here?”

That gets me up quick enough, though I’m not sure how exactly Mickey wants me positioned. He doesn’t hesitate to help me though, pushing me down on the bed by the small of my back. I end up with my body in a slant position, with my butt sticking up just at the edge of the mattress and my toes digging into the floor to keep myself in place. Though my bathrobe had originally fallen back down over my legs, Mickey lifts it up over my hips again, displaying my throbbing, aching butt as if it were a prize to behold.

“Very good,” Mickey nods his approval. “Now you stay right like that, while I get your new gift.”

From my place on the bed, I watch as Mickey goes to the front of the room and retrieves a small, flat rectangular box from his top dresser drawer. Opening the top, he presents me with four torpedo-shaped, hard rubber objects. Though each object is identical, they are all varying sizes and lined up from the smallest to largest. I honestly have no idea what they are, or why Mickey thought this would be a nice gift for me.

“Oh, Mickey, thank you!” I say, feigning appreciation. “Um, how nice of you? Just, er… what are they?”

Mickey smiles at me in a bemused way. “Now, my love, these are called rectal dilators,” he explains. “They’re used in the medical world to ward off constipation, though I thought I could put them to good use to combat quite a different affliction with you.”

Furrowing my brow and sucking in my cheeks, I feel a knot form in my gut as it slowly dawns on me just what Mickey is planning on doing with his ‘rectal dilators.’ “You mean,” I start off, gulping hard. “You’re going to put that in my… in my…”

“In your tight little anus, my love,” Mickey finishes for me, coming up beside me now with his box of dilators. Getting a better look at them now, I see each one starts off with a rounded tip and ends with a circular plate to prevent it from entering places it shouldn’t, with a big fat part in the middle along with a thinner groove for the butthole to clench around. “Now, which one should we use tonight?”

“Oh, the small one, Mickey. Please!” I beg, digging my toes even deeper into the cold floorboards.

This only causes Mickey to laugh good-naturedly at me. “The small one?” he repeats. “No. While I think the small one would be fine for you to wear during the course of an entire day as a lengthy remainder of your place in this marriage, for the trouble you gave me tonight, I think I will give you this one.”

With a feeling of trepidation rising in my stomach, I watch as he selects the second to largest one, which I estimate to be just the slightest bit smaller than Mickey’s cock when it was hard at the fattest part. The biggest dilator, in comparison, is much thicker than Mickey’s cock in even my wildest fantasies. Even the second smallest one is enough to make me shudder, about the same width of a bottom of a shot glass. Only the slimmest one, no fatter than a magic marker, seem like it might actually even be able to fit inside my ass.

“Oh, Mickey, please,” I say nervously, my heart rate beginning to pick up as I watch Mickey go to his nightstand now to retrieve a jar of Vaseline. “I’m not ready for that one!”

“That’s precisely the problem we’re seeming to have, isn’t it my love?” Mickey asks, unscrewing the jar of Vaseline and dipping the tip of the dilator inside. “You’re not ready for me to take your tightest hole whenever I so desire, are you, my pet? But no need to fret. Once you’ve been properly stretched over a period of time with these dilators, I’ll be able to take you in every hole whenever I feel the situation calls for it.”

The more I think about it, the more it actually seems like a good idea. After all, I wanted nothing more than to please Mickey in the sack in whatever which way he wants me to. It’s only that I’m still nervous about the size of the instrument Mickey selected.

“Please, can’t we use the smallest one tonight?” I wheedle again, hoping he’ll take pity on me. “You know, in preparation for the bigger ones later.”

Shaking his head gravely at me, Mickey makes a little ‘tsk tsk’ sound with his tongue. “Now, Lyssie, know it was my initial intention to start you off small, but that I had also planned to use these as punishment, and after your behavior tonight at the restaurant, you most certainly deserve the Number 3.”

I cringe inside myself, realizing he’s referring to the second largest dilator as the ‘Number 3.’ “But… but…” I stammer, struggling to come up with a worthy excuse. “I don’t think I can take something that big.”

“Nonsense,” Mickey says in a clipped voice, coming up around me now and sitting next to me on the end of the bed. I feel his arm wrapping the length of my waist, pulling me close to his side and hoisting my ass even further up into the air than it had been before. “These were designed to fit into the rectum, and I’m going to make sure I insert its entire length inside yours even if it takes all night.”

Determined, Mickey gets right to work, grabbing a fleshy handful of one of my butt cheeks and parting it from the other. I can’t help wincing sharp and painfully, as my poor spanked butt still feels very swollen and sore. Not long later, I feel the thick rubber cylinder intruding between my parted cheeks, and then the round, lubed tip pressing against my tiny, tight puckered hole, burdensomely stretching it open in a most uncomfortable manner.

“Ahhh… Mickey… pleeeeease, no,” I moan out, feeling the pressure of the dilator tip become even more forceful against the tender place embedded deeply inside the center of my butt cheeks. “It’s too big! Use the small one! Please!”

“Shhh, Lyssie, shhh,” Mickey hushes in an ineffective effort to calm me. “Relax the muscles of your bottom, and it will slip in much easier.”

“Nooo!” I protest. If it’s only the very tip of the dilator causing me this much unpleasantness, I just know the whole thing inside me is likely to tear me in two. Doing the opposite of what Mickey instructed, I clench myself as tightly as I can against the unwanted guest knocking at my backdoor.

Unfortunately, all this earns me is a brisk swat against the butt cheek Mickey is holding open, right at the edge of the dilator and straight down the middle of my very sensitive crack. I let out a squeal of pain, though the pathetic sound does nothing to soften Mickey toward me.

“Lyssie Marie Johnson! You know, I must inform you that I will be inserting this medical device into your naughty little bottom hole whether you cooperate or not! So I suggest you choose the wiser of the two options.”

Trying to calm myself by taking a deep breath, I realize Mickey has a point. Fighting him would only delay the inevitable. This means I have to force myself to relax as Mickey continues to press and prod the head of the rubber instrument into my most private place. After what seems like forever, he finally manages to stretch me out enough to get most of the tip inside of me. It’s at this point that the circumference of the tool becomes much thicker, and it refuses to budge any further without a fight.

“That’s right, my girl,” Mickey hums soothingly as he begins working the first inch or so of the dilator up and down inside me, as if coaching me for what’s soon to come.

I moan, but don’t offer much more in way of a response. It does seem my bottom is beginning to accept its fate though, and after a couple more minutes of Mickey plunging away at me with the dilator tip, I even begin to enjoy the sensation of having my anal opening violated and teased. Then, before I’m even fully aware what’s happening, I realize my pussy is secreting juices to aid in the liberal amount of petroleum jelly Mickey has already applied to my anus.

“What’s this, Lyssie?” Mickey asks suddenly, and I feel his arm stiffen around me. “Why, I can clearly see you are aroused by your punishment. What have you to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I squeak out shamefully, utterly embarrassed that Mickey must have noticed my wetness. “It’s just… it’s beginning to feel rather good.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say, this isn’t meant to please you, and I’m sure I’m about to put an end to that rather quickly. Now, hold still. I’m going to stuff your poor little hole with this dilator, and then I’m going to take you from behind with my own manhood and give you a thorough rogering!”

Raising my ass up higher still by propping it on the edge of his knee, Mickey slowly but surely begins burrowing the thick part of the dilator deeper and deeper into my ass. I moan and squirm, whine and try to crawl away, but it’s of no use. Mickey holds me tightly in place as he continues widening my bottom hole with the horrible rubber instrument, which is beginning to feel like it must be about the same size as a small tree trunk.

“Ohhh, nooo,” I cry pitifully, as the ring my anus is making around the dilator begins to burn hot with the tension of being stretched so tightly. “Please, Mickey, is it almost in?”

“You’ve nearly taken it all.” Mickey’s answer is prompt as well as somewhat proud. “You see? A few more days of this treatment, and I’ll be able to penetrate you here with my own member.”

As he pushes in the dilator even deeper, he begins twisting it around in circles, causing me to cry out in sheer agony as I claw at the bedspread with my fingernails. “Stop!” I moan miserably, though somewhere deep inside me, I don’t want him to stop at all. “You’re torturing me! Please!”

“Stop being dramatic, Lyssie,” Mickey chastens me in an irritated tone. “I’m only trying to make sure your hole stays good and gaped, to make entry easier when we attempt this again. Now stop fussing, and let me plug up the rest of your bottom with this tool. My manhood is nearly bulging out of my pants, I’m so eager to take you!”

But I can’t help crying a little bit as my inflamed and abused little hole is forced to take more and more of the dilator until, finally, finally it closes up around the groove in a swallowing sensation. Respite and accomplishment sweeps over me as I feel the circular plate of the end of the dilator wedged in between my butt cheeks and resting snugly on top of my now-filled hole.

“That’s my girl!” Mickey praises, easing me off his knee now and replacing my ass where it had been at the edge of the bed. Standing up, I see him in my peripheral vision take a step back, as if to admire his handiwork. “I must say your bottom does look rather cute, stuffed to bursting with the medical device and a nice shade of crimson as well from your spanking.”

I don’t answer at all as I’m still trying to comprehend the sensation of fullness inside of me. Though the moments following the complete insertion of the dilator were a bit uncomfortable and awkward, now that I’m getting used to the thing, I begin to realize it’s actually quite satisfying. In fact, I can feel it pressing against many sensitive nerve endings inside me, and it isn’t long before I begin to crave something in my pussy as well.

“Mickey, please, take me!” I begin begging, grinding my pussy up and down on top of the mattress in order to find some alleviation from my yearning. “Take me as you said you would!”

In lieu of an answer, I hear Mickey’s belt clinking behind me and the swoosh of his pants dropping. A moment later, he’s behind me, pressing his pelvis into my buttocks and taking my hips in his strong hands. “Are you ready for both of your holes to be filled?” he asks ardently, as I feel the smooth, hard tip of his penis poke about earnestly in the place just above the circular plate of the dilator.

“Yes,” I moan out desperately, arching my hips toward him. “Please…”

Not more than a moment later, he plows himself roughly inside me, and the sensation of being so totally saturated in this way is overwhelming enough that I almost come immediately. Somehow, I manage to hold off as Mickey begins thrusting himself inside me with such force I’m nearly reeled about five feet forward. Mickey combats this by taking up a big handful of my hair, stretching my face to the ceiling as I cry out in a combination of exhilaration and pleasure. Soon, I begin to come over and over again as Mickey continues to pound me harder and harder into the mattress, his own cries of total ecstasy mixing with mine.

“Oh, my love, you feel so good,” Mickey exclaims in a strained, frenzied voice. “You’ve never felt so tight! I can only imagine what it will be like when I take your dirtiest hole.”

“Oh, Mickey!” is all I can gasp out in a response. “I’m coming! I’m coming so hard!”

“Now, it’s my turn, my love,” Mickey insists.

Pulling out of me from behind, he turns me swiftly around, lifting my legs up to hook around the back of his neck before bursting inside me with his cock again. This angle manages to hit a whole different section of stimuli inside me, causing me to start coming all over again. After several more fast, hard heaves of his hips against mine, Mickey is coming too, collapsing on top of me as aftershocks continue to rack both of our trembling, quaking bodies.

For a few minutes, we both lay across the bed as our panting begins to decrease. Then Mickey sits up and, leaning over, rolls me over onto my tummy. “Don’t worry, my love, I haven’t forgotten you,” he assures me gently. That’s when I realize, in my manic state, that my bottom hole is still plugged, my anus hugging the groove of the dilator as if it belonged there.

“Ow!” I yelp, when I feel Mickey tugging at the end of the instrument. Just as my bottom had resisted being filled with the tool in the first place, now it seems reluctant to also let it go. “Be careful. It hurts.”

“And a fine lesson it will be to you too, to help you remember your place in the world,” Mickey says, still pulling at the dilator, a bit more tenderly now. “And just think, in no time at all you’ll be able to take my own erect manliness in this very place.”

Though the fantasy of Mickey anally fucking me is tantalizing, right now it’s all I can do to concentrate on relaxing enough to allow the device inside me to slip out with as little discomfort as possible. With a painful little burst, Mickey at last gets my hole to slide over the groove again, and then he slowly drags out the rest of it, extracting it from my bottom as if it were a large splinter. When he finally gets it all the way out, I feel my bare bum hole puckering at the cold air, and the experience of being empty where I was once so full is intense enough that I nearly come all over again.

Read More Info and Buy!

This content is linked through SNP’s Newsletter! Don’t miss out on all the free content! It doesn’t stick around long! Add your email below!