Tag Archives: collar

Stabbing Pleasure By Sunni Brock

I smell your desire
Inhaling your breath
As our tongues touch then embrace
And I reach downward
Smoothing the warm mist of perspiration
Over the tingling hairs of your navel

You rise suddenly and
Your arrow pricks my finger
Leaving a single drop of sticky sweetness
On my throbbing fingertip

My nipples are racing
To escape their bindings
I feel my thighs trembling
My stomach tightens

I am clenching
Moist, warm, and waiting
Engorged with the thrill
Of your immanent entry

Maneuvering my hips over yours
Freeing my full breasts
And cupping them
Into your face

Biting, teasing, nibbling
A direct nerve
Between my bosom
And maidenhead

I feel your arrow tapping
Ready to accept my invitation
I am so swollen it aches
Engorged to the edge of ecstasy

Breath held for a moment
My lips part in anticipation
Then the tip barely probing
I feel myself spreading slowly
You gliding gently, firmly in

In…

In…

Deeper,
Slowly,
Ever deeper
Until I can hardly –

Your
Arrow
Plunges
Deeply
Into
My
Open
Heart

…and I gasp as I teeter on the brink

and you retreat

then stab again

and again

and I die a little

again

and again

Until I break open
Gushing love from my legs
in a torrent release of rapture
flowing down the creases of our bodies
into rivulets over the sheets

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The Cost That Lies Between Heaven and Earth By Matt Piskun

The sweet perfume wafting from the grape vines was strong that morning, making one dizzy despite the fruits lack of fermentation. Isabella studied the figure before her, its features hidden in the shadows of the mid-summer sun.

“Do you know what it means to call me, child?” The beast’s growl was deep and rhythmic.

“I do.” Isabella was not afraid. The young girl moved slowly forward, struggling to contain the anxiousness brimming inside her.

“I sense a kind heart in you. It is merely buried under several layers of venial sins. Why do you seek me? ”

“My brother, Henry, has stolen my inheritance left to me by my father, the King.” Her olive eyes narrowed. “He leaves me with nothing. Am I to beg for crusts of bread? Furthermore, the family fool, Alfonzo now threatens my path to the throne. Spain is my birthright, but he desires it as his own and would toss me aside as one would a barren cow.”

Sensing her ambition the figure in the shadows smiled, its breathing now faster. “I don’t know if I’m drunk from the nectar that drips off these vines, but I think I am falling in love with you, child.”

Isabella’s cheeks flushed pink as she moved toward him. “Let me see your face.”

Emerging from the darkness came a young male demon. The sunlight made his skin, the color of ripe plum flesh, all the more brilliant. He was slender and muscular with two small horn buds protruding from his forehead. Two majestic wings of burgundy leather were folded neatly behind his back.

Isabella smiled and extended her hand to be kissed.

“I may be a youthful demon but I am no fool. I can help you reach the throne.” He looked into her eyes of lime-colored sea and knew this was what she was waiting for. “Although royal blood may course through your nubile body, it’s you who will be subservient to me.” The young hell-spawn spread his great wings and hovered above her.

Isabella took pause. She had vowed to never let any man hold dominion over her. Surrounded by incompetent males trying to prevent her ascent to the throne, she knew in her heart that she would still one day be queen and any man that was lucky enough would be her king. However, this was no mere man that floated above the earth before her. A feeling spread through her that she’d never known before. An ember of admiration and desire lit inside Isabella and the beating of leather wings now fanned it to flames. Isabella took a knee and bowed before his floating body.

“Save yourself for me, girl.” He grabbed hold of his horns. “When you become a woman I will come back for you. It is with your first blood that we will consummate our arrangement.”

Isabella, looked up into the swirling ash of his eyes and told him, “For my rightful place, I will wait for you…”

“Ingot, my name is Ingot.” With that being said he sailed up above the clouds and out of sight as Isabella clutched her pounding heart.

# # #

Father Juan de Valera watched with pursed lips, shaking his head back and forth. He pulled his beard, dotted with black hairs drowning in a chaotic sea of grey, into a fine point. His queen spoke through clenched teeth of sheen ivory and cruelty.

“Whore!”

A young woman kneels before her, nude and covered in binding chains. Long, red hair sticks to her face as she trembles with fear.

“I can smell your sex, that which you give so freely and without commitment from God. Whip her again!”

The high priest, whose fat and swollen face is hidden beneath a brown hood, cracks his whip. It sounds like thunder and the young girl whimpers as the lashes tear thin, scarlet lines into her milk-white flesh.

“Again!” Isabella commands, her fist raised.

The priest snaps his whip repeatedly and the wooden cross hanging from his neck swings back and forth wildly. Large droplets of sweat fly from the darkness of his hood.

Every cry from the naked girl elicits a small burst of excitement from Isabella. She presses her thighs together tightly, enjoying the hot pleasure building between her legs. When she can no longer endure the mounting desire she commands the high priest to take the girl away and convert her to God. “If she does not admit to believing, make her do so! Spare not one inch of her!” A sweaty smile spreads beneath the hood of the priest.

Isabella, Queen of Spain, tries to hide her lust as she speaks but her eyes, wild with desire expose her growing passion. “I’ll pray for your success, priest.” Father de Valera, his tanned and wizened face looking all the more angular from his sharpened beard, watches as she turns and enters her private quarters. He makes the sign of the cross, whispering the names of the holy trinity as he turns to leave, unseen.

Closing the door behind her, the Queen loosens then drops the purple ceremonial robe she wears exposing her scarred skin. A myriad of criss-crossing magenta scars decorate her breasts and abdomen. She runs her hands over them and shudders as her fingertips play with the grooves in her skin.

“I yearn for you,” Isabella moans. A small flame deep inside her flickers, reminding her of the first time she laid eyes upon him. She thinks back to that day as a young girl in her garden, but she can no longer remember the sweet smell of the flowering vines.

# # #

Her scars writhe as if alive in the candlelight that illuminates her bedroom. Ingot sits in a chair with his arms resting on his now sizeable belly.

“You are a wicked woman, Bella.”

“I need satisfaction, my lord.” Isabella kneels before him.

Ingot stands and strokes the great, curved horns that sit upon his head. “So be it.”

She takes the demon’s member in her mouth and works it feverishly until her pleasing him results in the monster’s orgasm. He releases his semen upon her chest and it sizzles leaving a new pattern of fresh scars that ooze bright red in their infancy. Isabella moans with pleasure and writhes in pain, unable to tell the two apart.

Ingot sits back down in his chair and sighs. “Must I always please?”

“I’ve another favor to ask of you.”

“You’ve such greed in you! Did your brother, Alfonso, not suffer from an unfortunate case of poisoning, along with a slit throat for good measure? You were there grinning in the shadows as he choked, gurgling on his own blood, knowing I did this for you, for your crown. And what of your other sibling, Henry? For wronging you I removed any chance he could have to bear children. Like grapes his manhood were in my talons, oozing from the palm of my hand.” He ran a long black fingernail across her face racing her cheekbone. “And yet you need more?” The swirling embers that made up his eyes grew a little brighter. “I suppose this is why I love you.”

“My kingdom needs land. The people demand it from their Queen and I am not accustomed to disappointing my citizens.”

The demon smiles with jagged, yellow stained teeth and waves a hand in Isabella’s direction, causing his stomach to shake. “You are a good Queen. There is a man who prays to my black kingdom for fame and discovery. He’s not a Spaniard but he will suffice if you will have him. His name is Columbus. I will deliver him to you and he will discover new lands in the name of Spain, allowing you to keep hold of your coronet.”

Isabella winced as she put her ceremonial robes back on. “I will do as I must. Now I must return to the business of running my kingdom.”

“And I think I will pay a visit to mine.”

# # #

Father Juan de Valera finishes his tapas of chorizo and bread then puts on the surplice and purple stole he wears for the sacrament of confession. He’ll confront her today. He has finally seen enough and will tell her that he can no longer sit in silence as she performs atrocities in the good lord’s name.

The torture, the sacrifice, and the experiments must come to an end.

His Queen comes to him in a simple green dress, her straight, brown hair, tipped with gold, flows over her bare shoulders. She likes to appear a simple woman when confessing to him.

“Good afternoon, Father.”

“Blessed to see you, Isabella.”

She will not allow herself to be called Queen during penance. Isabella takes the velvet, padded seat across from Father de Valera who twirls the grey hair of his beard between his thumb and forefinger.

“I no longer love my King.”

“We must meet together, the three of us.”

“No. He is more of a house pet than a man. I no longer know what to do with him.”

“We can annul the marriage if you feel the relationship can’t be mended.”

“That carries risk, father. The people grow restless and I do not want to give them further cause with the belief that I have chosen an impotent and spineless king who can’t handle his woman. I will pray for an answer.”

Isabella rises to leave but the priest quickly stands and raises his hand, signaling for her to wait.

“What is so pressing that you choose to waste my time?” The gold of her hair twinkles as if full of stars in the candle light of the tabernacle.

“That young girl today…”

“The harlot being whipped?”

“Yes. What became of her?”

“Are you spying on me father?”de Valera twisted his beard into a fine point. “All that concerns our loving God finds it’s way to my ears.

The Queens eyes looked black in the deep shadows of the church. “I don’t know yet, but whatever happens will surely be God’s will and then I’m sure it will make its way to your foolish old ears.”

“You talk of God’s will and yet I heard her cries of torture,” he looks Isabella in the eyes as he speaks, “as I have the screams of all the others.”

The queen’s expression does not hide her surprise at the priest’s audacity. The sparkle in her hair vanishes as she stands. “The Lord knows what I do in his name and he allows it.”

“It is not God’s place to forbid you, it is your choice. Also, I respectfully disagree that God would want his teachings forced upon others.” Father de Valera bows his head and stares at the deep wrinkles around his knuckles in silence.

“You dare! You crusty, old eunuch! You may spread his word but the Lord speaks through me.”

The priest sighs. His highness’s reaction is expected. He looks at the silver cross that adorns the bookcase beside him. Its rubies sparkle in the candlelight as his Queens hair did moments ago. The images of Christ dying on the cross, the spear poking through his ribs, the briny rags stuffed in his mouth, fill his mind. He can feel his lord’s last breath across his cheek and finds the courage to truly speak his mind. “What sort of sins are you atoning for? What possesses you to produce converts in such a manner?”

“I do what I must.”

“You serve the devil when you act this way.”

Isabella’s olive eyes narrow and her hands ball into ring covered fists. Her chin quivers as she speaks. “Wrong! You are wrong! What I do, I do to fight the devil! You may have read of him in your texts, but I have met him, touched him! I create an army of worshipers whose belief in God’s kingdom will oppose such evil. I do what needs to be done!” Spit sprays from her thin, red lips, “Cross me or speak out against me again and you will meet God much sooner than you desire!”

The Queen turns and leaves, slamming the wooden door of the church with such force the stain glass windows quiver. Juan de Valera sighs long and hard then picks up the silver cross next to him. “You do what you must.” He pulls the top of the cross off, unsheathing a steel blade. He looks at his reflection and frowns. “Now I must do as I must.”

# # #

Isabella tosses and turns on her bed. The silk cloth that adorns her canopy sways as if alive. She sweats into her cotton sheets as her heart races. Her king sleeps alone in an adjacent bedroom, but her thoughts are not of him, they are of Ingot and Father de Valera.

A bead of sweat slowly slides down from between her breasts onto her stomach. Isabella feels as though the aged priest saw right through her. Maybe he knew her secrets, but who could read his withered old face? It hardly mattered if he did. The price of her throne was Ingot and Christ forgive her she loved the foul beast. Ingot was the only male she had ever been with that truly understood her. Despite loving as only a devil can; she thinks his feelings are genuine nonetheless. It’s with great sadness that she builds a kingdom of Christians to combat her lover’s dark realm, but the web of power stretches wide and is taught with deceit. Just as her sovereign duties must be necessitated, so too must the obligations to her soul be met. Her sheets are now soaked with sweat as she wonders how much more her conscious can take. A decision must soon be made and tomorrow she will make it. Satisfied with this resolution, Isabella closes her eyes to sleep, but as she does Ingot appears before her.

# # #

It’s dark. He can smell the wisps of smoke from the recently snuffed out candles that line the hallway to the Queen’s quarters. Father de Valera shuffles quietly across the stone floor his blade gripped tightly in one hand, the other stretched out before him feeling into the shadows. He stops as the darkness shifts before him. The priest flattens himself against the wall and hears what sounds like the scrapping of claws against stone. The air moves around him and he feels a cold, heavy darkness pressing upon his skin. He prays to God the almighty for courage then continues forward. He pictures, for fortitude, his lord carrying the True Cross, whipped and bleeding as his crown of thorns tears into him. Finally he comes to the Queen’s door made of carved cypress. De Valera hears talking inside and puts his ear to the door. In between beats of his heart he can hear Isabella shouting. “I love you! I love you! You are a part of me!”

Father listens for a response, but hears no answer to the queen’s admissions. He presses his ear more tightly against the sculpted wooden door. If she were with someone else he would have to terminate his holy mission. The priest is old and tired. He does not have the strength, physically or spiritually, to take two lives, but he fears he will never have the courage to get this far again. He holds his breath to hear more clearly and is quite sure he hears only Isabella’s voice inside. He presses his hand against the door, finding it unlatched. After making the sign of the cross he slowly pushes Isabella’s door open.

The door opens with a slight creak that may as well have been as deafening as canon fire. His Queen spins around to see who has entered. She is naked and the priest gasps, not at her nude form but at the great maze of scars that covers her flesh in various shades of scarlet.

“You abandon me now?” She turns and shouts to a fluttering shade of black silk that hangs over an open window. A small vase of citrus scented oil is heating on a black iron stand in the fireplace, making the room smell fresh and sweet.

Still lost in the labyrinth of maroon gashes that decorate her peach colored skin, Father de Valera keeps his knife at his side. Isabella grabs hold of the poker that lay across the hearth and swings it across the priest’s face. He screams, dropping his knife and covering his face with his hands. He gags as blood pours out from between his clamped fingers.

“You dare, priest, to invade my privacy? First you question my motives then you come to me uninvited?” She looks down at the jewel-encrusted blade on the floor. “And you have come to kill me.”

Father de Valera reaches out for the blade but Isabella brings her weapon down across his hand snapping his fingers. The priest shouts out in pain and brings his gnarled fingers to his chest. Blood drips steadily from his beard. He gets to his feet and charges her, hitting Isabella in the chest with his shoulder and knocking the poker from her hands.

She lands on her back by the fireplace, the priest on top of her, his one good hand pressing down on her throat. Isabella puts both hands around his wrist to remove it but can’t. Blood from the father’s nose falls steadily on her naked torso filling the scared channels in her flesh. De Valera’s eyes flicker with the fires roaring light. The Queen reaches behind her into the fireplace, grabs hold of a smoldering log and brings it down across his head, knocking him off with a showering of embers.

The priest rolls onto his back, consciousness coming and going, with Isabella standing over him. Her breasts heave as she struggles for breath. Queen Isabella’s body is sticky with blood and ash. She holds the smoking log overhead as the priest weakly covers his face. Suddenly, Isabella drops the wood in her hands. The Queen turns as she hears the beating of wings.

“Coward, you come to me now that the fight is over?”

Ingot comes in through the open window, the black window shade across his shoulders resembling a cape. “I can not lay hands on a holy man. It’s a treaty older than time itself.”

“You disappoint me, Ingot. For that you will pleasure me.”

The demon flies in on outstretched wings and lands in front of the fireplace. Isabella approaches him on her knees. ‘This disappointment is the end’, she thinks, ‘I will launch a grand inquisition today, forcefully shaping, as if from clay, an army of Catholics. Their faith will save me. I may give my body to hell but my soul is still Gods!’

Father de Valera opens his blood-encrusted eyes to see Isabella on her knees talking to herself. Her hands stroke the vase of boiling citrus oil as she pours it onto her chest, searing the skin where it hits causing more wounds to bubble and blister. She wails and writhes in ecstasy.

de Valera starts to crawl towards the blade that is still on the floor. He inches forward and grips the jeweled handle, but when he does he sees Isabella’s reflection in the blade. “Don’t worry, lover, I will take care of the priest.”

With blade in hand he turns over to face Isabella who is holding the iron poker in her hands. He points the blade at her. “You’re mad! There is nobody here but you and I!”

Whispering she tells him, “Tell God I do what I must.” Then the Queen drives the poker through his ribs.

With his hands wrapped around the iron protruding from his chest, Father de Valera’s vision begins to fade as shadows start to ebb out the light. He gasps for air as his punctured lung collapses. Isabella turns and walks toward the fireplace. Once more she appears to be talking to no one. From within the encroaching darkness the priest hears the rhythmic beating of his dying heart; or is it, he wonders, the beating of wings?

 

Temptation: The Anthology is out now!

Temptation: The Anthology. is out now!

Temptation: The Anthology, a diverse collection of erotic fiction from around the world. From the sensual caress of a lover, to S&M torture, fantasies and filth… A wild ride, a passionate embrace, all of it awaits you…

Featuring:

Seven Foot Two, Fur of Blue By James Hartley

Charlie’s Room By A. A. Garrison

Sister Patience By Jerome Brooke

Bird of Paradise By Jax

Finding Elsbet By Peter Baltensperger

Don’t Go By S.L. Johnson

For The Love Of Rachel By Laura J Campbell

Shoot Me By Albert Tucher

A Pound of Flesh By Charles Langley

Inspiration By Ken Goldman

A Little Bit of Lovin’ and a Bushel of Winter Wheat By Charles Langley

The Collar, The Leash and The Wife By Aiden Mulane

Nympho Librarian By Mike Sharlow

A Good Night’s Sleep By Franklin Sr.

Down By Ralph Greco

Barbara’s Waterboarding By Sandy George

The Art of Women By Jerome Brooke

For The Love Of Legs And Feet By Michael F.

Ms. Welsh After the Interview By Paul Henry

Devil’s Delight By Matthew Wilson

The Muse By Jerome Brooke

Kamalia By Kara Leigh Miller

The Hangover Cure By Holly Day

Olivia’s Ordeal By DirtyMartini

Grey By Caitlin Hoffman

After Dinner By Jerome Brooke

Original fiction and the very best reprints from the successful Temptation Magazine blog: https://temptationmag.wordpress.com/

The book is available now!

The printed book is available here:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/temptation-magazine/temptation-the-anthology/paperback/product-20528099.html

The ebook version in several formats is available here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/257622

Coming soon to Kindle!

The Collar, The Leash and The Wife By Aiden Mulane

It was a thin bright pink leather collar. Bright and feminine with small silver studs that ran around the outer edge. I had affixed a little heart shaped tag to it with a small silver ring. The bright pink tag had letters embossed on one side. They said in large capital letters “SEX TOY”.

The leash was six feet long and was a normal dog leash except it was bright pink. I had bought the tag and collar and leash at the pet store down the street. They have an automated machine that creates dog tags there. You feed it some bills and then you type in what you want written on the tag with a little word processing interface, fonts, colours, size of type, it does it all. When you’re done it spits your creation out like a candy bar. The collars and leashes were displayed on racks in the middle of the store. I found an inane number of leashes and collars in the store. They looked lonely hanging there.

Of course to leave the store I had to go through the checkout line. I walked to the back of a five person deep queue. Two people directly ahead of me had their dogs with them. Apparently they were not shopping for their spouse. This particular pet store encouraged you to bring your dog and socialize while you shopped. An older overweight gal directly in front of me who was carrying a little Chihuahua tucked under her arm said hello. Her dog looked like it needed a Zoloft Prozac cocktail. It was twitching and shaking neurotically, its eyes glancing around nervously like it was in the middle of a robbery. It looked over at me suspiciously and I felt the urge to startle it but held back.

The other dog, a short haired mutt, kept looking up at its fat balding owner importuning to be let go. It was pacing the floor endlessly pulling on the leash. It was determined to get to the front door to make its mark where a legion of dogs had peed. For some reason the transactions ahead of me dragged on and on. Finally it was my turn.

The young, short, most likely gay cashier looked up at me as I handed him the collar and leash and smiles. He says “hello” happily in a fawning effeminate, did you realize I am gay manner. He looked down at my purchases and surveyed them both carefully. He must have noted that they were both bright pink and for what must be a small lap dog. His face brightened even more. Maybe he thought no straight man would be buying such a collar? Maybe he thought he had a chance with this six foot four masculine broad shouldered football player type of a man who just happened to be buying the happiest, go luckiest, gayest leash and collar set in the store? Maybe he was just curious. I don’t know. He said to me as he leaned forward on the counter looking into my eyes “Oh how cute. What kind of dog do you have?” I paused for a moment, thinking about it, then I looked him straight in the eye and said dryly “I do not own a dog, this is for my wife.” The words seemed to strike him physically. He actually winced. I had expected a laugh. He leans back away from me quickly and swipes the bar code. No small talk now. The soft beep of the bar code reader seemed to hang in the air. Without a word he handed me my change and I nodded a perfunctory thank you and left.

I had hung the collar that morning high on a short finishing nail stuck in a bedpost at the foot of the bed. It was my way of putting my wife on notice. It was my way of telling her what she would be wearing when I came home from work that evening. No discussion, no asking for permission, just the collar hanging where it would be sure to be noticed. I wanted her to think about what was to come, to anticipate the evening. To realize that I was going to be in complete control of her once again.

I got off early to surprise her. Coming in quietly, I found her taking a nap. She was lying on our large four poster bed on her side, her beautiful hips accented by the pose. She was a sexy, sexy woman. She was five foot two inches tall, one hundred and five pounds of full breasted full lipped sexiness. From the first time we were together there was a spark between us; a sexual fire that blazed continuously. Now and again lustful winds would fan it to a raging bonfire.

Being careful to be quiet I quickly undressed and stood naked looking at her. I retrieved the collar off the bedpost. The leash and some other toys and accoutrements I had gathered were in a gym bag under the bed. Looking down on her sleeping peacefully I mentally reviewed my ideas for the evening. My cock began to stir. I gently reached under her long blond hair and slid the collar around her neck. As I fastened it she began to awaken.

Without saying a word I reached under her back and lifted her with one arm while pushing her torso away from me and up; with the other arm I pulled her legs closer to the edge of the bed. I put my index finger to my lips to remind her “no talking.” Gently, slowly, I stripped off her blouse and sexy lace bra. I motioned for her to lift her bottom so I could work her slacks and thin lace bikini panties off. She sat there, her legs hanging over the side of the bed coming out of her slumber. She looked up at me and spread her arms wide and arched her back with a quiet yawn, her bright eyes shining, her beautiful breasts gorgeously displayed as she stretched and looked at me expectantly. She reached up and pensively touched the collar circling her regal neck.

I leaned down and pulled her close, kissing her lips tenderly. She was warm and soft. I smelled her hair and kissed her neck. I broke the embrace and looking her in the eye I said to her “play time”. I kissed her once more, more forcefully. Our lips still pressed together my hands found her breasts. My fingers massaged and squeezed them. I languorously pinched and fondled her nipples. I felt her warm body lean into me. She pressed her lips to mine harder.

I backed up and looked at her. I noticed she was wide awake now. In fact she was already breathing slightly faster. The collar tended to do that to her. It was the touchstone of our playtime. When the collar came out she never quite knew what was going to happen or just where the road would take her. The only thing she knew was that she belonged to me and was mine to use as I wanted. Now the pretty pink collar was fastened securely about her neck, the little tag hanging from it that declared she was my “SEX TOY”. Anticipation rushed through her.

I gruffly told her to get down on her hands and knees and kiss my feet. She got off the bed and slowly bowed down to me. With her hands and feet on the floor she lowered her head and kissed my feet. She tenderly kissed the top of each foot and then turned her head and gazed up at me. My cock began to stiffen. I lifted one foot up a few inches off the ground. “Suck” I said. She wrapped her lips around my big toe. She swirled her tongue around it. She sucked it like it was a little cock fellating it deliciously.

“Okay sit up,” I ordered her. I moved forward and pressed my crotch to her face as she sat up on her knees. I grabbed the back of her head and forcefully pulled her face into my crotch. “Lick my balls, and no hands” I warned her. She sat back on her heels. Her warm tongue laved my scrotum. At first my half hard cock laid across her forehead then I held it up being careful not to let her touch it with her lips. I saw her looking up at it and knew she wanted it in her mouth. Not now, not yet. She looked so sexy kneeling naked before me, her long blond hair cascading down her back, the collar the only thing she wore.

Of course this time was not really for me. It was not really about my pleasure. The whole experience was for her. It filled a need she had deep down inside. Somewhere in the place that a well educated, fashionable, beautiful woman cannot find the courage to openly talk about; At least not a woman that grew up in her “we don’t talk about sex” family. It was a real need deep down inside her; imprinted somewhere below her neo-cortex, way down deep inside her reptilian grunting fuck me like an animal part. In there was an atavistic animal need; the need to be used, to not be responsible, to be in someone’s control, to be dominated. Later I would have my fun but now this was her time. It was her time to be lost to the world.

She knew that while the collar was fitted around her pretty neck she belonged to me, not as a wife but as my “SEXTOY”, my whore, my plaything. I make it happen, no permission needed. I talked to her slowly letting the words sink in, giving her time to digest each sentence. I wanted her to see herself in the picture I painted. “You have the collar on now” I said. “You understand you belong to me?” she nodded yes. I kept going painting a picture of her fate. How I could whip her and spank her if I wanted to. How I could order a pizza and make her suck the teenage delivery boy’s cock for the tip. How I could make her lick my sweaty balls and ass until I was satisfied. I reminded her that whatever nasty, dirty, sexual thing I wanted her to do, there was nothing she could do about it. A wide smile mixed with a bit of fear spread broadly across her face. She gave me a quick nodding, yes to let me know she understood.

Leaving her on her knees I went to the bedroom and got the leash and a little black whip I kept in my bag. The whip was about 24 inches long from handle to the end of the half dozen or so knotted leather strings. Each string had a knot tied in the end to give it some weight. I fastened the leash onto the little ring on her collar. She looked up at me with expectation. I held the leash and began to walk forward. She followed me on all fours. I led her to the living room where we stopped next to the couch.

I jerked the leash and told her to stand up and bend over the couch. As she did I barked an order. “Spread your legs wide”. She looked lovely bent over the back of the couch, her smooth legs leading up to her beautiful curvy ass. She was quite a sight. With one hand holding her in place with the leash and the other wielding the whip I began to slowly warm up her backside. I started swinging slow light snaps of the whip low on the back of her legs. First one leg then the other, rhythmically going back and forth. No marks yet on her skin. The slightest murmur of a moan coming from her lips. Short almost soft strokes of the whip. I built the tension by whipping faster and faster and harder and harder as I very slowly almost imperceptibly moved up her legs to her bottom. She was making me hot with the way she was trying to control herself. Each time the whip landed it would cause her to jump a little. A muffled moan came now from her pursed lips. She looked so good bent over her sweet ass reddening, her roundness accented by being bent over the couch. A couple of times I thought she was going to speak but I jerked the leash and she got the message.

On and on I whipped her. At one point I caught her trying to rub her pussy on the couch but I jerked the leash and warned her.I kept on rhythmically whipping one spot then another and another. Sometimes hard and sometimes soft, sometimes quick and sometimes slow.

I told her that I was pleased with how she was handling herself. I told her that it made me hot to make her ass red. I told her to spread her legs wider and she did as she was told. I deftly with quick snaps of my wrist landed a couple quick sharp blows right on her pussy. She cried out and shivered. Slowly with anticipation of each smarting blow I landed a dozen more on her swollen pussy and her whole body shook even harder. As a finish, an accent if you will, after her legs and bottom and pussy were bright red, I lifted up her long hair and gave her several hard smarting blows between her shoulder blades. She swooned then froze, for a second not sure of what else was to come. Her posture seemed to ask “how much more was I to give her?”

I dropped the whip and turned her around quickly kissing her lips sweetly. I wrapped my arms around her still holding the leash. My lips pressed harder, my tongue entered her mouth. She shivered. My hands drifted down her back to her hot bottom. It felt good to feel the heat coming off her nicely reddened ass. She pushed her cheeks against my hands as I ran my hands over her bottom. She pressed into my body trying to get some touch on her breasts and pussy.
Then I gave her a hint of what was to come. I told her it had been a hot day and I had made sure to keep hydrated. “After all it was wise in this heat” I said to drink a lot of water. She did not catch on right away. Pausing I held still and looked at her face. I wanted her to think about it for a minute. To anticipate what was coming next. She knew right away when I repeated myself “it is wise to drink a lot of water” I could almost see the idea working its way through her mind to cognition. The awareness of what I was saying started a kind of earthquake in her body. She stood there and sort of wavered for a second almost losing her balance. “Hold on there” I said laughing as I put one hand in the small of her back and steadied her.

I was not kidding when I said I had kept hydrated. A couple small bottles of water and then a 32 ounce ice tea had filled my bladder to its limit. I knew her mind was swirling and she was getting even hotter as I felt her begin to lose the power in her legs. She started to sink. She could barely stand on her own. I had to hold her steady with both arms now. Grabbing a handful of her hair I pulled her face close and kissed her once more roughly on her open mouth. Her hard nipples felt good against my chest. I pressed against her naked body enjoying the moment. I noticed that I could actually feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her breathing was almost a panting now. I waited a few moments and changed my kiss from rough and open to soft and closed. I kissed her sweetly. I licked her neck, biting and sucking I move up and down it with my lips. I breathed in her sweet smell and warmth. I bit her earlobe and tugged at her ear with my teeth. I ran both hands over her body now and felt the moment deepen. We stood there suspended in time.

Finally I broke the embrace and stood back from her quickly still holding the leash in one hand. She stared at me intently as I was the only thing that existed in the whole world. I watched her beautiful breasts rising and falling with each shallow quick breath. Her red nipples were rock hard and jutting out sexily as she moved. I pulled her close again holding one arm around her waist as I dropped my other hand to her pussy. As I looked into her eyes I reached down and rubbed her mons gently, softly. She pushed her hips toward my hand and closing her eyes began to moan softly.

I was going slow now, very slow, for her. My cock was rock hard and I wanted to mount her and give her a good fucking right now. But this was for her. I was making her wait for it because that is what she needs, what she really wants. Slowly I parted her lips with my middle finger while my hand cupped her mound. Ever so softly I applied a delicious pressure and slid up and down her vulva with my middle finger ever so slightly spreading her pussy lips. She moaned louder now and tried to get closer to me. She was wet and oh so hot. So wet my fingers were slick and shiny as I brought them to her mouth and made her lick them. “Lick them clean” I said. She sucked them greedily using her tongue and lips earnestly.

I jerked the leash harshly, pulling her out of her reverie. “Come with me”. Slowly, wobbling, she walked as if she was drunk into the bathroom, her arms at her sides. We had a large two person walk in shower. It was tiled floor to ceiling. “Inside,” I ordered. “Now kneel”. I wanted her kneeling before me. Her regal beauty subordinated to me. She was mine and she loved it. She was being used and she adored it. She was in my power and she reveled in it. I took some cloth wrist cuffs and tightly tied her hands behind her back. She was moaning softly, nonstop purring catlike moans. The cuffs pulled her elbows together accenting her form, pulling her shoulders back and jutting out her breasts. I stood over her admiring her beauty and watching her intently. She tried to catch my cock in her mouth. I pushed her away and warned her harshly, “you wait to be to be given permission, follow my orders”. I noticed she was rhythmically contracting her legs together in time with her breathing. She was trying to get some pressure from her thighs on her needy pussy. A lovely red flush covered her bosom. I wondered if she had been pushed too far and might faint?

I held the leash in one hand and my rock hard cock in the other. She again reached her mouth forward trying to suck me and I jerked the leash. “Not now” I said. It was hard to get my cock soft enough to pee. She was such a sexy sight. I closed my eyes so as to not look at her. I began to will myself to urinate. She closed her eyes and leaned forward anticipating. It took a minute or two but slowly a few drops started to come. Very slowly at first a few more drops then some dribbles and then very slowly a waxing stream spurting from my cock. As the first few drops hit her breasts she arched her back even more and jutted her breasts forward. Her moans louder and higher pitched now.

The stream started to come steadily building in force. I started to draw tiny circles on her breasts, round and round her jutting nipples. I ran from one breast to the other. Going round and round the concentric circles getting larger and larger until I was circling an entire breast one at a time. My hot piss was splashing off her tits. Pee was running down her arms and chest and belly, collecting as it spilled down to the juncture between her legs. Pee soaked her pussy. My urine dripped off her puffy swollen labia. Collecting in little rivulets down the little landing strip of pubic hair she had onto the shower floor. What a sexy sight she was, her moans louder and louder, her back arching, her body quaking and swaying. Still trying to rub her legs together and not fall over, trying to get some pressure on her hot, hot wet pussy. Her thighs clenching and relaxing rhythmically: Her moaning tied to the rhythm of her breathing.

I worked the urine stream up from her soaked breasts to her chest and shoulders. Weaving the stream back and forth, higher and higher, lifting up higher still, I aimed at the base of her neck. She lifted her chin and leaned forward straining. She was lost in herself, lost in the feelings, lost to the moment. My SEXTOY. I was peeing hard now the flow coming swiftly and faster, full force. She pulled against the leash lifting her chin higher. Raising up my aim I told her to open her mouth and she did so eagerly opening wide and sticking out her tongue. I could hear her in my mind “give it to me” she was saying. I did, I began to fill up her open mouth. She opened wider as to not miss a drop. I quickly filled her mouth with my pee. She wanted it all. “Swallow it” I said, and she did. The stream splashed across her pursed lips and face as she closed her mouth to swallow. Higher still I aimed between her closed eyes soaking her forehead and hair. She tilted her head back to allow my pee to wash over her head and down the back of her neck. She wanted to be covered to be soaked in it. Down, down her cascading hair it went until it pooled around her on the shower floor.

Her moans became guttural now, growling forest noises some kind of animal would make; Sounds coming from deep, deep inside her, back to the time when speech was unknown to man. Sensing she was about to cum I also felt my supply start to wane. I let go of my cock momentarily and reaching down I quickly laid her on her back. What a sight, she laid there glowing, shining, glistening. Her body soaked in my pee. Her arms still cuffed together behind her were now under her and were having the effect of making her arch her ass up towards me.

I looked down at her one hand holding the leash and the other my cock. Her knees were splayed wide apart as she could get them, her beautiful mons and swollen pussy lips pushing up at me, inviting me. She was twitching rhythmically. It was only a momentary pause but she laid there glistening, waiting, needing met to finish. I knew what she needed now and I wanted to give it to her. I wanted to give my beautiful wife what she ached for.

I aimed carefully between her legs just above the tile floor zeroing on her pretty pink asshole. I circled the stream around it for bit then tighter and tighter concentric circles until bullseye! I hit her right on her pretty little rosebud. She opened her mouth wide and let out a scream. I quickly moved up to her swollen open pussy lips. I watched her whole body having spasms after spasm of intense pleasure now. Quick tonic contractions flowed through her in waves. She forced her legs even wider and the pitch of her voice climbed as my pee splashed on to her hot sex. My urine mingled with her lubrication. I worked the stream up and down the midline of her pussy and around the outside. I aimed carefully and parted her swollen wet lips with the flow. I forced the stream into her open vagina like a small cock. As she contracted and moaned and shook my pee was ejected back out of her pussy in little squirts.

I knew she was almost there and I was getting low on ammunition. I knew it was time. Again I aimed carefully slowly working again up from her asshole to the very top of her pubis. Finally I zeroed in on her engorged swollen, protruding clit. I danced around and around it and then, with deft precision I peed directly on it, hitting it forcefully. Her movement stopped just for a second, her voice trailed off. She was suspended in time, just for a moment and then… She erupted in orgasm. She was cumming, and cumming and cumming; Her voice a shrill scream now; it climbed higher and higher reverberating off the tile walls; her wet glistening body bucking, writhing, shaking. Her lower half lifting off the floor up and down, over and over again; her fingers clenching, opening and closing with each spasm.

She was lost in orgasm. She was beautiful. Her whole body convulsed and writhed rhythmically as she lived for a time in ecstasy.

What was once a fast running stream now ebbed until I was left only with a small spurts and dribbles cascading off the tip of my cock onto the floor. I leaned forward steadying myself with one arm against the wall and looking into her adoring flushed wet face I contracted and squirted the last few spurts into her open mouth. She gasped as she tried to swallow and moan and swoon and drink all at once. My bladder finally empty I paused. I gave her a moment to revel in the experience. I waited until she stopped shaking. I surveyed the scene. My urine covered her head to toe. My pee was all over her and the floor and the walls and my forelegs. Once I was satisfied she was coming back to Earth I undid the cloth cuffs and freed her arms. I lifted my right foot and put my toes to her mouth. She eagerly sucked them and ran her tongue around and in between them. I pulled my foot away and untied her hands.

As a last sign or respect and submission, I made her kiss my feet while she kneeled, first one then the other gentle little kisses on the top of each foot. I stood in the shower with her. She sat back on her heels looking up at me with love in her eyes, she was dazed and glowing. She was beautiful.

I came closer to her and she wrapped her arms around my legs and embraced me as best she could while kneeling. It was then I noticed there was another source of moisture on her face. Several tears were running down her cheeks and mixing with my pee. She was gently crying, quietly sobbing as she hugged me lovingly. I stood still for awhile as her embrace squeezed my legs harder and sobbed quietly.

I moved the shower head so the stream would not hit her and turned on the water letting it warm up. I reached down and undid the collar as she looked up me adoringly. A couple of tears ran down the corner of each of her pretty eyes. I motioned her off to the side and rinsed off my legs a bit while she watched me intently. “Clean up dry off be quiet, and get in bed, I am going to take a nap” I said gruffly. She stood up and tried to kiss me. “Not now” I said, “do what you’re told.” Before I lay down I made sure to hang the collar high on the bedpost where she would see it. My wife lay down with me and as we fell asleep snuggling I felt a fullness in my balls that would need to be taken care of. It was going to be a good weekend.