Cuck realisation at a hotel [mf][Mf][cuckold][humiliation]

You checked into the hotel with your wife, out of town foe the weekend you had booked what you thought was a nice romantic country getaway. It was not long after seeing your room you realised it was not exactly what you had planned. The grand luxury rooms pictured online were clearly dated. The room was nice enough sure, but in that way that a hotel was passed its glory days. Either way, you were determined to make the most of this weekend, your wife had made the effort too, you’d caught sight of some new lingerie she had packer in her suitcase.

Dinner and wine at the hotel restaurant followed the same lines, it was good once upon a time, it’s a bit shabby now. The hotel wasn’t even booked out on a weekend. You felt like you had dropped the ball on this one.

The girl in the pink collar. [Mf] [humiliation][slave][degradation]

Inspired by a sight seen on a train platform. Fictional otherwise.

Megan shivered as the wind gusts fluttered her skirt. She was standing on the train platform dressed exactly as she had been told by her master. Black heels, black stockings, black mini skirt, no panties underneath, sheer black top over a black lace push up bra. For warmth she was permitted to wear her jacket, though it stopped at her waist. Fortunately the popped collar of the jacket and her long back hair which today she was wearing down to help hide what she wore around her neck. The wind blowing her hair would reveal the pink leather collar with heavy D hooks encircling her neck. The collar was high and uncomfortable, limiting her head movement so she struggled to tilt her head forward or up, and to either side.

Her Submission story (in progress), [bdsm][submission] [fictions]

Some notes: this is a fictional story I had began a number of years ago. Thought it was lost and recently discovered it. Possibly going to re-write, edit, transform but hoping some people enjoy / have feedback on its original form. Apologies for lack of edit / mistakes.
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She was home studying when he texted her with:

“Out doing a delivery near your place. You home alone?”

There’d been sparks immediately when they first met only a week before her wedding day. Not the same sparks she felt with her new husband, lustful sparks which were just enough to excite her and convince her to give him her phone number with the false premise of “being friends.”

“He’s at work. Just the house to myself while I finish off this essay” She replied. She remembered when they had caught up as “friends” after her shift at the pub one night. The inevitable happened. She ended up at his house after merely 3 wines on all fours while he slapped her ass, doggy styled her deep and called her a “little cheating slut” only a week after she returned from her Fijian honeymoon. He had a dominant personality and wasn’t afraid to treat her as though she was a groupie at a rock concert and that made her wetter than anyone before.