Bound and Initiated by Emily Tilton Page A

the things everyone she had encountered so far at Ostia had said or because something about it simply inhered in the act, like the latex cock mastered her, thrusting hard and deep and fast. She strained against the cuffs that bound her wrists as she gagged for the first time, forgetting that she could not use her hands to ward off the cock.
    Above her loomed Dr. Adams, the twinkling smile still on his face as he thrust the dildo savagely into Sarah’s mouth as if to say, That’s alright, Sarah. All girls have trouble with their first penis-training. Sarah’s eyes watered, and she tried desperately to relax her throat. Wet, struggling sounds came from her mouth along with her gasps.
    “Don’t worry,” the doctor said, “dominant men like the members of Ostia like to make a girl gag a little.” More thrusts. More gagging. Sarah labored to keep herself breathing through her nose. “Just relax and try to take it, Sarah. Think of yourself as a receptacle for a man’s penis. That will make it easier.”
    Suddenly Sarah seemed to find a place in her mind that actually would let her take a control over the muscles of her throat she had never known she could exercise, and she did relax those muscles, and felt the dildo go in deeper than it had before. A new sound, somehow wetter accompanied this opening, as the artificial phallus came and went.
    “Good!” Dr. Adams said, with a little surprise in his voice. “Very good, Sarah. Most new girls don’t learn how to do that so early. I think you’ll be in high demand, once your pater tells his brothers that you can give the penis its way so nicely.”
    His brothers. Not real, familial brothers, surely. Brothers in the cult: red-robed brothers.
    The dildo left her mouth.
    “Alright, Sarah.” Dr. Adams sat down again on the stool and Sarah heard him returning the dildo to the drawer and removing something else. “You did well with the girl-trainer. We’ll verify the presence of your hymen now. You’ve had a gynecological exam before, of course.”
    “Yes, doctor,” Sarah mumbled.
    “No need to answer,” Dr. Adams said. “We have your chart.”
    The speculum. There in her pussy, opening. A little flash from the doctor’s penlight. Sarah bit her lip.
    “Yes, very nice,” the doctor said. “When I use the girl-trainer here, it will stretch you out a little, and that may make it a little less uncomfortable when your pater has first coitus with you tonight.”
    There. The confirmation of what would befall her, beginning at sundown. So casual: first coitus for Sarah. First fucking. Because that was how her new life worked.
    I’m doing this for my country. Why did her mental voice hesitate over the first syllable of country ? Or had it? What did Sarah imagine about herself, about sex, about her cunt-ry? What was real? It was all real, and what did that say about Sarah James, whose cunt got wet when a doctor told her that a man—an incredibly hot man—she had just met in the past hour would deflower her tonight?
    “There,” the doctor continued conversationally. “You’re getting aroused. Good. I’m just going to take a peek inside your bottom now, and then I’ll use the girl-trainer, which will feel much nicer than the speculum. As I said, your body is made for the male penis, but—” he chuckled, “—it’s certainly not made for the speculum of course.”
    Sarah’s breathing came harder and faster as the thing closed and left her pussy, then almost immediately began to push inside her anus.
    “Just relax, Sarah. It’s a little like relaxing your throat; these are muscles that we don’t usually think about. With practice, though, we can control them.”
    “Oh, God,” Sarah whispered. In her mind the video of the cardinal fucking the bottom of the blond girl atop the mosaic played in a horribly arousing endless loop. She tried to find the control over the muscles in her mind, but something seemed to be keeping her from relaxing them.
    “Hush,