“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
That’s what Rosie said as she gingerly sat down, wincing as she did so.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. She said she’d taken up the offer of a mutual acquaintance from a trip to the Whip / Lash dungeon and had gone to “play” at his apartment.
I knew Logan from work. I’d assured her he was on the up and up. I had to admit to a little niggle of excitement and arousal as I pondered what type of ‘games’ Logan would play. He was a definite heart-throb and I’d had my share of naughty fantasies about being his bottom, but if he and Rosie hit it off, I’d have to cast my net in another direction.
“Are you OK?” She was obviously uncomfortable. She kept shifting in her seat.
“Better than OK.” She finally grinned, and I had to admit, it was a definite ‘cat that ate the canary’ sort of smile.
“So, uh, Logan fulfilled your wildest submissive fantasies, huh?” Who, me, jealous?
“Baby, you have no idea . . . the talent that man has with a paddle!”
Wicked images of me bent over, Logan whacking my ass with a paddle, the bulge in his leather pants proof positive that he was enjoying having me at his mercy. Nipped it in the bud and did a little shifting in my own seat for a whole different reason.
“I guess you two really hit it off?”
“No pun intended?” She giggled.
“Sorry.”
“Sure, he was great fun. I worked out some tension, that’s for darned sure.”
“When’s your next date?”
“Nah. Not interested.” She held up her hand. “Sure, he’s a god, and he gives good paddle – but I actually think I want someone a bit more nasty. You know – someone who’ll treat me like the bad girl I so want to be.” The wicked grin appeared again.
“Whoa. Really? I mean, you know I’ve had fantasies about being submissive, too, but I don’t think I’m ready for that whole humiliation kind of thing.”
“What can I say? It gets me all hot and bothered when some guy calls me his dirty little slut. . .” She poured a glass of wine. “Logan is a fierce dominant, but he’s a bit too much of a gentleman for me.”
An hour later, after Rosie had left to ‘go home and admire her battered backside’, I had polished off the rest of the Merlot and I glanced at the clock. Nine PM on a Friday night. If I hurried, I could slip into the perfect sub ensemble and still make it to Whip Lash. I happened to know that Logan was a night owl.
The next morning I lay on my stomach, relishing the sting of the welts on my own ass as Logan kissed my neck.
He whispered in my ear as his big hand stroked my deliciously tender butt cheek.
“What made you decide to take me up on my offer last night?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
There was a moment’s pause before he asked, “And now?”
“Now? It’s clear it was a GREAT idea.”
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Friday, September 10, 2010
Stolen Nooky
“I’m not going to have sex with you in the garage, Michael!”
“It’s here or nowhere until my parents leave.”
I sighed and studied my studly fiancee. It had been nearly four days since his prim and proper parents had arrived and we were newly engaged. Hell, we had only been dating for seven months so, yeah, our sex life was hot, heavy and really, really frequent. In fact, if it hadn’t just felt so darn good, I would have wondered if maybe he or I were oversexed to a medically disturbing degree.
Whatever, right?
But his parents had been underfoot every minute of the day and we were traveling with them for all their sight-seeing and it was killing me. Having Michael close to me, smelling him, even those innocent touches, were turning me into a hot, gooey mess.
I looked around. The garage was full of his motorcycles, the 1958 Chevy he was restoring, and all his weight equipment. He kept himself in terrific shape and at six four, and 280 he was unrivaled in his ability to terrify suspects into surrender, confession, whatever he wanted. Me? He didn’t terrify me, but he could make me surrender with just a naughty grin.
Right about now, with his parents having finally dozing after an especially hectic morning, it was do or die. Meaning do it with my guy, or die of frustration. But I looked askance at the crowded space.
“Michael, there’s nowhere to sit or anything, much less lie down.” I looked up at him and caught the twinkle in his blue eyes.
“I was thinking we’d try something different.” He looked to the right and I caught sight of his weight bench.
I was puzzled, for just a second, wondering what he thought we could do with the padded bench, and then I got a sizzling picture of the possibilities.
“Assume the position, lady,” Michael growled at me in a fair approximation of his tough cop voice. He gave me a little shove so I could get the picture.
Feeling foolish, but incredibly horny, I lay on my stomach on the bench, my legs dangling to the floor. It was set up high for Michael’s long legs and my feet didn’t touch the ground.
I felt the chilly air waft across my butt as Michael flipped my denim skirt over my ass.
“Naughty.” He smacked one palm flatly against my bare ass. “Rather slutty to be wandering around in front of my parents without panties.” He smacked me again and I felt the tingle swell into a more powerful throbbing.
“Michael . . .”
“That’s officer to you, Miss.”
I heard the sound of a zipper and involuntarily shifted so I could spread my legs.
“I think a cavity search is in order.”
“As long as you have the tool for it, Officer.” Michael did, indeed, have just the tool I needed. And I needed it fast and hard.
Michael was nothing if not dedicated to duty.
“It’s here or nowhere until my parents leave.”
I sighed and studied my studly fiancee. It had been nearly four days since his prim and proper parents had arrived and we were newly engaged. Hell, we had only been dating for seven months so, yeah, our sex life was hot, heavy and really, really frequent. In fact, if it hadn’t just felt so darn good, I would have wondered if maybe he or I were oversexed to a medically disturbing degree.
Whatever, right?
But his parents had been underfoot every minute of the day and we were traveling with them for all their sight-seeing and it was killing me. Having Michael close to me, smelling him, even those innocent touches, were turning me into a hot, gooey mess.
I looked around. The garage was full of his motorcycles, the 1958 Chevy he was restoring, and all his weight equipment. He kept himself in terrific shape and at six four, and 280 he was unrivaled in his ability to terrify suspects into surrender, confession, whatever he wanted. Me? He didn’t terrify me, but he could make me surrender with just a naughty grin.
Right about now, with his parents having finally dozing after an especially hectic morning, it was do or die. Meaning do it with my guy, or die of frustration. But I looked askance at the crowded space.
“Michael, there’s nowhere to sit or anything, much less lie down.” I looked up at him and caught the twinkle in his blue eyes.
“I was thinking we’d try something different.” He looked to the right and I caught sight of his weight bench.
I was puzzled, for just a second, wondering what he thought we could do with the padded bench, and then I got a sizzling picture of the possibilities.
“Assume the position, lady,” Michael growled at me in a fair approximation of his tough cop voice. He gave me a little shove so I could get the picture.
Feeling foolish, but incredibly horny, I lay on my stomach on the bench, my legs dangling to the floor. It was set up high for Michael’s long legs and my feet didn’t touch the ground.
I felt the chilly air waft across my butt as Michael flipped my denim skirt over my ass.
“Naughty.” He smacked one palm flatly against my bare ass. “Rather slutty to be wandering around in front of my parents without panties.” He smacked me again and I felt the tingle swell into a more powerful throbbing.
“Michael . . .”
“That’s officer to you, Miss.”
I heard the sound of a zipper and involuntarily shifted so I could spread my legs.
“I think a cavity search is in order.”
“As long as you have the tool for it, Officer.” Michael did, indeed, have just the tool I needed. And I needed it fast and hard.
Michael was nothing if not dedicated to duty.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Tale of a Summer Interlude
It is a hot summer afternoon. The winds are dry but they blow across my skin as I work in the garden. Too warm for clothes, but I must bow to practicality. The filmy, flimsy dress I wear is my favorite. Loose and feather light it flutters in the breeze as I get to my hands and knees to tend to the delicate buds. My breasts, round, full, yearning for a firm touch, swing free beneath my loose clothing. My bottom is secreted under the soft fabric, peaking out as the breezes gently lift it up. As I lean forward, my pussy is exposed; the dress blows up, I don’t smooth it down. The sun on my naked flesh feels carnal and decadent. I pause for a moment, smiling at the joy of freedom before succumbing to societal rules. I resume my labors when I feel you. You are near and the earth gives a slight shudder as you go to your knees behind me. I smell your scent, the masculine musk of a man, fresh from the outdoor, smelling of sun and sweat and more. I begin to quiver in anticipation. What do you have planned for me today? Are you going to fuck me here, on my knees, outside, where all the world can see? Beneath the trees and amid the flowers, where anyone, if they are curious, can sneak a glance between the branches and see you, see me, see us …. see me with your cock inside me? You are, aren’t you?
Your large, strong hands touch the back of my thighs. They are hotter than my flesh and your touch sears. Up slide your hands, pushing the hem of dress away, exposing me to your hungry gaze. The cheeks of my ass, my slit, the shine of juices bursting from my cunt to anoint my skin at the knowledge that you are there, preparing to do …. what?
Your hands slide up, they push my dress further, up, over my shoulders, over my head, until the slight scrap of fabric slides over and down, to pool around my hands. I am naked for you. The way you want me, always. My nipples tighten. Your hands on me grow more commanding. You urge my head down to my hands. I lay my face on the dress sprawled there and wait …. inside me a throbbing has begun, an urgent beat that tries to communicate my desires, my want, my need to have you take me.
Then I feel you. Your cock. Big, thick, and god, my god, so hard. You use it to stroke the back of the thighs, the crack of my ass, the lips of my sex. There are drops of cum, the first of many, oozing from you and you paint my flesh with your semen. You are spreading my cunt now, the round head of you pushing in just a whisper, just enough to enter and stretch me. I groan and beg silently for a thrust, slow, or hard, I don’t care, I just need it inside me. Deep and filling me, the precarious spreading that can be pleasure or pain as you want it ….
More of your thickness pushes forward. Infinitesimal degrees sliding through my slick lips. I want to suck you into me, suck that cock inside me and keep it there, buried, inside of my tightness.
You taunt me. You move forward … only enough to tantalize me. You reach beneath my soon to be filled hole and take my clit in your fingers. You twist and tease it, stroking the hard little nub with your calloused fingers, the roughness bringing me to a panting state of insane lust… Then your hand moves, it leaves my little bit aching for more, but you reach forward to cup my breast, and squeeze the generous, needy flesh in your strong palm. You palm the other breast, pulling on my nipple until all my little bits are standing at attention for you.
Then you begin to move into me. It is a hot slow steady stretching of my flesh as you inexorably penetrate me. I want to push back, to take you faster, but you hold me back. You are in control and I will have your cock exactly as you want to give it to me.
And you want me to take it slowly. Excruciating, agonizing anticipation builds in every cell of my flesh. As you slide in, please, god, please hurry … I cannot stand to wait … don’t torture me … please give it to me….you push, you push harder and more of you fills me. I am crazy with wanting it.
Then you renew. You slide out and I whimper but then you are moving forward again, pushing, harder now, more firmly, more deeply. I take your cock into me but you are going to give me more. You thrust it in now with power. You reach so deep inside me that I feel you bang the end of me. Then you thrust again. Then again. And again. And I am shoving myself back, now, and you are letting me as you begin to fuck me in earnest. Slow, powerful, deep strokes that hit me again and again. You’re pinching my clit and ramming your cock deep inside of me. The sun burns down on us and my flesh is on fire. My cunt is steaming and I’m writhing and groaning and then you are coming. Cum is pouring into me, filling me, and you continue to ram inside of me, forcing me to scream and beg and then I am coming too, as you finger my ass, sliding a big finger into that tight place, and my cunt squeezes and sucks your cum deep inside of me to warm and fill me. My body takes your semen, it takes it all as my body contracts around your cock, wanting to hold it, longer, always.
Then I breathe.
The sun is burning down. I can hear again. I hear the buzz of bees and the trill of birds. The wind is blowing and the air smells green. And I am kneeling naked in my garden with your cum running from my cunt to coat my legs in your sticky, hotness…
And you are gone.
Your large, strong hands touch the back of my thighs. They are hotter than my flesh and your touch sears. Up slide your hands, pushing the hem of dress away, exposing me to your hungry gaze. The cheeks of my ass, my slit, the shine of juices bursting from my cunt to anoint my skin at the knowledge that you are there, preparing to do …. what?
Your hands slide up, they push my dress further, up, over my shoulders, over my head, until the slight scrap of fabric slides over and down, to pool around my hands. I am naked for you. The way you want me, always. My nipples tighten. Your hands on me grow more commanding. You urge my head down to my hands. I lay my face on the dress sprawled there and wait …. inside me a throbbing has begun, an urgent beat that tries to communicate my desires, my want, my need to have you take me.
Then I feel you. Your cock. Big, thick, and god, my god, so hard. You use it to stroke the back of the thighs, the crack of my ass, the lips of my sex. There are drops of cum, the first of many, oozing from you and you paint my flesh with your semen. You are spreading my cunt now, the round head of you pushing in just a whisper, just enough to enter and stretch me. I groan and beg silently for a thrust, slow, or hard, I don’t care, I just need it inside me. Deep and filling me, the precarious spreading that can be pleasure or pain as you want it ….
More of your thickness pushes forward. Infinitesimal degrees sliding through my slick lips. I want to suck you into me, suck that cock inside me and keep it there, buried, inside of my tightness.
You taunt me. You move forward … only enough to tantalize me. You reach beneath my soon to be filled hole and take my clit in your fingers. You twist and tease it, stroking the hard little nub with your calloused fingers, the roughness bringing me to a panting state of insane lust… Then your hand moves, it leaves my little bit aching for more, but you reach forward to cup my breast, and squeeze the generous, needy flesh in your strong palm. You palm the other breast, pulling on my nipple until all my little bits are standing at attention for you.
Then you begin to move into me. It is a hot slow steady stretching of my flesh as you inexorably penetrate me. I want to push back, to take you faster, but you hold me back. You are in control and I will have your cock exactly as you want to give it to me.
And you want me to take it slowly. Excruciating, agonizing anticipation builds in every cell of my flesh. As you slide in, please, god, please hurry … I cannot stand to wait … don’t torture me … please give it to me….you push, you push harder and more of you fills me. I am crazy with wanting it.
Then you renew. You slide out and I whimper but then you are moving forward again, pushing, harder now, more firmly, more deeply. I take your cock into me but you are going to give me more. You thrust it in now with power. You reach so deep inside me that I feel you bang the end of me. Then you thrust again. Then again. And again. And I am shoving myself back, now, and you are letting me as you begin to fuck me in earnest. Slow, powerful, deep strokes that hit me again and again. You’re pinching my clit and ramming your cock deep inside of me. The sun burns down on us and my flesh is on fire. My cunt is steaming and I’m writhing and groaning and then you are coming. Cum is pouring into me, filling me, and you continue to ram inside of me, forcing me to scream and beg and then I am coming too, as you finger my ass, sliding a big finger into that tight place, and my cunt squeezes and sucks your cum deep inside of me to warm and fill me. My body takes your semen, it takes it all as my body contracts around your cock, wanting to hold it, longer, always.
Then I breathe.
The sun is burning down. I can hear again. I hear the buzz of bees and the trill of birds. The wind is blowing and the air smells green. And I am kneeling naked in my garden with your cum running from my cunt to coat my legs in your sticky, hotness…
And you are gone.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Not Your Kids' Fairy Tale
Once upon a time there was a beautiful young woman held hostage by her sadistic Stepmother and three stepsisters. Her father, a good man, traveled extensively within the Kingdom, was blinded by the manipulative quartet and had failed to see the torment to which his own daughter was subjected.
Cyn D’Arella awoke the morning of the ball to typical abuse.
“Get up you lazy bitch!” Screamed Magret, the youngest, as she tossed cold water on Cyn. Dressed in the finest of leather-wear Magret stood over the beautiful young girl and gave her a kick with the fuck-me heeled, thigh-high boots she wore beneath the leather skirt.
“We have to spend the day getting ready for the Prince’s BDSM Ball, you twit. I’ll need a waxing and my collar needs polishing. I want to make sure the Prince knows that I’ll be the best sub he ever had!”
“Fat chance,” added Donnella, the second oldest. “I happen to know the Prince loves anal and you, baby sister, won’t let anyone near your precious little rosebud!
“Girls!” Ellarent screamed shrewishly at the three girls before looming over Cyn who stood in a corner. The older woman blew smoke in her face and pinched her breasts beneath the threadbare hand-me-down dress. “You, get to work before I take out my lash. I don’t think you remember just how much I like raising those welts on your tender little ass!”
Cyn hid her tears as the woman shoved her out the door. No breakfast again, and once all the prepping was done, she would be expected to do all the cleaning, too, since the sisters had hosted a sex toy party the night before and everything was covered with KY jelly and cum.
Later that evening, when the foursome had been taken away in their ostentatious carriage, bedecked in the latest sado-maso fashions, Cyn plopped into a chair and let the tears flow. She’d been slapped, pinched, kicked and Ellarent had wrenched her arm good and hard, the old Domme enjoying the squeal of pain her assault had ripped from Cyn.
“Why do you let those cunts treat you like that?”
“What? Huh?” Cyn looked up in surprise at the tall, leggy woman in latex who stood before her corner chair. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”
“I’m your fairy Domme Mother, silly girl, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to pop in and take you in hand. Now, stand up. We’ve got work to do.”
“For what?”
“For crying out loud for the Prince’s BALL!!!” The woman tossed her mane of red hair over her shoulder and waved her hands at Cyn. “I happen to have it on good information that the Prince is sick and tired of the posturing subs who’ve been attending his balls, and attending TO his balls, I might add, and you are the perfect woman for him. Lovely, obedient, sensual.”
“What about that whole anal thing? I’m not sure . . .” Cyn cringed before the statuesque woman who wiggled her leathery wings. Fairy, my eye, thought the girl – more like my Bat Domme Mother. But being wise she kept this observation to herself. The woman was stunning, it was true.
“Babe, trust me, you will adore anal. Wicked good – the best - unless of course the Prince has a good buddy stop by for some DP.”
“DP?” Cyn was almost afraid to ask.
“Double penetration, sweetie, absolutely divine!” Then she looked at Cyn critically. “I know just how to dress you up, or should I say undress you up, to catch the Prince’s eye and get that big old cock of his to salute. “Come with me.”
* * *
An hour later Cyn D’Arella was announced as Lord D’Arella’s young daughter. She stood trembling at the stop of the grand staircase, trying not to think of how she looked in the black velvet bustier, collar and the swirling, see-through black dress that hid nothing, including the gold thong beneath it that split her little derriere.
“Bitch!” The stepcunts themselves tried to push through the crowd no doubt intent on doing her bodily harm.
But they were thwarted by the arrival of the Prince of the Kingdom.
Cyn could not help but gasp as the broad-shoulder Dom approached like a hungry panther. Clad in black leather leggings and thigh high boots his chest was bared beneath a leather vest. One ear contained a thick gold earring that glimmered beneath his lion’s mane of deep golden hair.
Stepping up to Cyn he towered over her while studying her intently.
“May I?” He reached up and removed the fancy, feminine collar her Fairy Domme Mother had affixed around her slender neck. He did not wait for her nod, but handed the collar to his man in waiting and held out his hand. The man put a length of leather woven with a fine golden chain and a delicate golden clasp into the Prince’s hands.
The Prince reached out and ran a large, strong hand over Cyn’s shoulder and down to her hands. He picked up one palm and kissed the calloused skin. His eyes flashed with an anger that, rather than scaring Cyn, gave her comfort. Here was a man who would not let her be abused. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. He tasted of wine and smoke and Cyn could not help but notice the way the leather leggings across his groin tightened and swelled. He likes me! He really, really likes me, she thought in awe!
“How perfectly my collar fits you!” His gaze was hot and possessive as he stared into her eyes. “Will you wear my collar, beautiful one? Will you allow me to educate in the many pleasures of the flesh? Will you bend yourself to my hand from this day forward?”
It took Cyn but a fleeting moment to look into the Prince’s eyes and judge him as the one, the only man, to whom she could happily submit.
“Oh, yes, your Highness, I will be yours!” Her voice sounded breathless in the large chamber.
“No need to call me ‘Highness’, beautiful one. Master will do just fine.” As a roar of approval from the room rose up at the Prince’s choice, he smiled down at her and locked the tiny lock on collar about her neck and hung the key on its chain around his neck. He pulled her close to him hard body and let her feel the effect she had on him. Then he kneaded the cheeks of her derriere through the filmy fabric of her skirt and whispered into her ear.
“I can’t wait to get my cock into that sweet little ass of yours, slave.”
Cyn smiled. Her Master was obviously going to make sure that she lived happily ever after.
Cyn D’Arella awoke the morning of the ball to typical abuse.
“Get up you lazy bitch!” Screamed Magret, the youngest, as she tossed cold water on Cyn. Dressed in the finest of leather-wear Magret stood over the beautiful young girl and gave her a kick with the fuck-me heeled, thigh-high boots she wore beneath the leather skirt.
“We have to spend the day getting ready for the Prince’s BDSM Ball, you twit. I’ll need a waxing and my collar needs polishing. I want to make sure the Prince knows that I’ll be the best sub he ever had!”
“Fat chance,” added Donnella, the second oldest. “I happen to know the Prince loves anal and you, baby sister, won’t let anyone near your precious little rosebud!
“Girls!” Ellarent screamed shrewishly at the three girls before looming over Cyn who stood in a corner. The older woman blew smoke in her face and pinched her breasts beneath the threadbare hand-me-down dress. “You, get to work before I take out my lash. I don’t think you remember just how much I like raising those welts on your tender little ass!”
Cyn hid her tears as the woman shoved her out the door. No breakfast again, and once all the prepping was done, she would be expected to do all the cleaning, too, since the sisters had hosted a sex toy party the night before and everything was covered with KY jelly and cum.
Later that evening, when the foursome had been taken away in their ostentatious carriage, bedecked in the latest sado-maso fashions, Cyn plopped into a chair and let the tears flow. She’d been slapped, pinched, kicked and Ellarent had wrenched her arm good and hard, the old Domme enjoying the squeal of pain her assault had ripped from Cyn.
“Why do you let those cunts treat you like that?”
“What? Huh?” Cyn looked up in surprise at the tall, leggy woman in latex who stood before her corner chair. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”
“I’m your fairy Domme Mother, silly girl, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to pop in and take you in hand. Now, stand up. We’ve got work to do.”
“For what?”
“For crying out loud for the Prince’s BALL!!!” The woman tossed her mane of red hair over her shoulder and waved her hands at Cyn. “I happen to have it on good information that the Prince is sick and tired of the posturing subs who’ve been attending his balls, and attending TO his balls, I might add, and you are the perfect woman for him. Lovely, obedient, sensual.”
“What about that whole anal thing? I’m not sure . . .” Cyn cringed before the statuesque woman who wiggled her leathery wings. Fairy, my eye, thought the girl – more like my Bat Domme Mother. But being wise she kept this observation to herself. The woman was stunning, it was true.
“Babe, trust me, you will adore anal. Wicked good – the best - unless of course the Prince has a good buddy stop by for some DP.”
“DP?” Cyn was almost afraid to ask.
“Double penetration, sweetie, absolutely divine!” Then she looked at Cyn critically. “I know just how to dress you up, or should I say undress you up, to catch the Prince’s eye and get that big old cock of his to salute. “Come with me.”
* * *
An hour later Cyn D’Arella was announced as Lord D’Arella’s young daughter. She stood trembling at the stop of the grand staircase, trying not to think of how she looked in the black velvet bustier, collar and the swirling, see-through black dress that hid nothing, including the gold thong beneath it that split her little derriere.
“Bitch!” The stepcunts themselves tried to push through the crowd no doubt intent on doing her bodily harm.
But they were thwarted by the arrival of the Prince of the Kingdom.
Cyn could not help but gasp as the broad-shoulder Dom approached like a hungry panther. Clad in black leather leggings and thigh high boots his chest was bared beneath a leather vest. One ear contained a thick gold earring that glimmered beneath his lion’s mane of deep golden hair.
Stepping up to Cyn he towered over her while studying her intently.
“May I?” He reached up and removed the fancy, feminine collar her Fairy Domme Mother had affixed around her slender neck. He did not wait for her nod, but handed the collar to his man in waiting and held out his hand. The man put a length of leather woven with a fine golden chain and a delicate golden clasp into the Prince’s hands.
The Prince reached out and ran a large, strong hand over Cyn’s shoulder and down to her hands. He picked up one palm and kissed the calloused skin. His eyes flashed with an anger that, rather than scaring Cyn, gave her comfort. Here was a man who would not let her be abused. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. He tasted of wine and smoke and Cyn could not help but notice the way the leather leggings across his groin tightened and swelled. He likes me! He really, really likes me, she thought in awe!
“How perfectly my collar fits you!” His gaze was hot and possessive as he stared into her eyes. “Will you wear my collar, beautiful one? Will you allow me to educate in the many pleasures of the flesh? Will you bend yourself to my hand from this day forward?”
It took Cyn but a fleeting moment to look into the Prince’s eyes and judge him as the one, the only man, to whom she could happily submit.
“Oh, yes, your Highness, I will be yours!” Her voice sounded breathless in the large chamber.
“No need to call me ‘Highness’, beautiful one. Master will do just fine.” As a roar of approval from the room rose up at the Prince’s choice, he smiled down at her and locked the tiny lock on collar about her neck and hung the key on its chain around his neck. He pulled her close to him hard body and let her feel the effect she had on him. Then he kneaded the cheeks of her derriere through the filmy fabric of her skirt and whispered into her ear.
“I can’t wait to get my cock into that sweet little ass of yours, slave.”
Cyn smiled. Her Master was obviously going to make sure that she lived happily ever after.
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