Giving My Man His Birthday Fuck [FDom, Msub, bd, Cos Play, Pseudo Rape, Electric Stimulation, Potential Pregnancy, Pikachu]

We fucked until I felt bruised last night. Eventually, I feel asleep exhausted next to your warm body. You lay awake for I had no idea how long, your arms splayed out, bound to the bedposts. Your legs were wide apart, ankles chained and bound. The melted wax on your chest hairs must have hurt as you lay helpless and I know your skin was red.

I cuddled closer and you would probably have asked me to free you, but the gag made it hard for you to do anything but utter inarticulate moans and cries. Earlier, as I slowly hurt and fucked you, I had admired the strength of your bound body. The width of your shoulders and flat, muscular belly that you possessed. I flashed back to playing volleyball on the beach with you before we retired to our Jamaican resort.

You wore a green band that indicated you could drink and eat as much as you wanted while you were here. But the truth was, I had too much fun controlling what you ate and drank to let you really enjoy the unlimited pleasures of this Jamaican resort.

[FM, Pet Transformation, Low-Sex, Consensual to Reluctant, bondage, F-Sub] From Wife to Pet, Part I

I fantasized about being a carefree, well-trained bitch. I didn’t share my fantasies with anyone. The truth is my desire to be a dog was more than a silly fantasy. I’d gone to counseling for a while, but it didn’t work out. He’d been out of graduate school for three or four years and couldn’t get his mind around the depth of my desire to be a furry canine. Later, I found comfort with other people who “got me.”

Men and women who shared my desire to leave normality behind. My connection with other furries made me happy. It was far better for my mental health than counseling. But even then, I slowly began to realize that my desire to surrender my girlhood in favor of a canine life was more extreme than most people, even those in the furry community. Then I met Paul.

He didn’t want to be a canine. He wasn’t a furry. But oh, he got me. We met at a convention. We connected immediately. We dated for six months before we got married. Paul didn’t want me to work. He set up cameras, so he could monitor me when he was at work.

[FM, Mdom, Work, Cheating] A Cheating Vignette

*You slut,* I think as guilt invades my mind, torments my emotions. Mike, my forty-year old boss, clamps a calloused hand on my left breast. Dad got me this job through a client after I graduated from college. Secretary and bookkeeper for a wholesale plumbing supply business. Not exactly what I majored in, but it was more than I’d get working at Starbucks.

I was getting married in June. Paul was finishing up a one-year master’s program in Pittsburgh. Then we’d marry and start our life together. I moaned as Mike teased my nipples into erect eager little peaks. I knelt on the creaking backroom cot, while he moved off my breasts and pushed me down, his hands now grasping my tight bottom. His hands move, expertly, over my body and he growls, “Slut, I knew you wanted this.”

I respond, arching back, feeling the heat of his body. My panties are around my knee and my skirt is rucked up around my hips. Then I cry out as he slaps one cheek and I feel the weight of his body pushing me down. I’m so fucking aroused. “Don’t,” I gasp.