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The dishwasher is running downstairs, dinner finished fifteen minutes ago. Our daughter has gone to bed. Janet and I hurry to our bedroom to enjoy ourselves as we do every night.

“Hmmm,” I think as I finally strip off my vanilla taupe business jacket and skirt, “what can we do that’s fresh and different?” Janet is also getting naked fast, a cute smile of anticipation on her lips…. OK… a leering grin of lust… but I think it’s cute. I toss my blouse, bra, panties, and hose carelessly on a chair not thinking about that much at all.

Walking to our dresser, I dig around in our drawer of metal restraints. “Ah ha!,” I think, “this will be great!” I gather a dozen pairs of handcuffs, her best stainless steel collar, and a lovely chromed leash. Between her collection and mine, we must own two hundred pounds of chain, locks, cuffs, and all sorts of perverse toys scattered around our home everywhere except where our daughter can find them.

Jan is already kneeling in the center of our bed. Her eyes widen watching me approach with about twenty pounds of metal in my hands.

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“Tell me more about how it feels when I pin you down and cum inside,” Jessica demanded.

Sanneke switched the phone to her other ear, the edge of one canine catching her lip. Her wife had a particular heat in her tone that was oh so familiar.

“It’s best when we fight,” she answered in a soft voice. Her bare footsteps made no noise at all as she wandered the living room of their New York penthouse flat, fingers trailing over the back of the couch in absent recollection. “I have a love-hate relationship with our fights. When you’re glaring at me and seething, when I’ve pushed you and tempted you and egged you on to *just* shy of that line between lust and actual anger… I love the anticipation of knowing I’m going to get what I deserve, but I never really *want* to ‘lose’. I don’t want to let you win – I want to be conquered.