My wife Rachel is a very sensual and sexual being, who thoroughly enjoys romance and passion. She treasures the nights which start off with slow gentle kisses, delicate caresses and soft whispers of loving adoration. Those nights when the slow delicate movements synchronize and become more passionate and more heated with every moment, culminating into two bodies becoming one. Those nights where deep slow breaths become uncontrollable and desire-filled hands pull each other closer, trying to melt into each other. The hunger to feel each other's love culminating in a wave of inexplicable pleasure washing over glistening bodies. The embrace while drifting into a deep sleep, still clutching each other until morning.
Then there are other days. Other days like today which are fueled by pure animalistic lust. Days where romantic desires are the farthest thing from her mind and she just wants to be ravished and used. On days like this, she doesn't want to be played with; she wants to be taken. She needs to be utterly consumed until there's nothing left of her. Rachel knows what she wants, and she knows exactly how to get it.
Waiting patiently for me to come home, she runs her hands over the leather bustier which fits every curve like it's painted on. Her full round breasts can barely be contained by the shiny leather. Black leather panties, stiletto heels and thigh high stockings let me know she means business, making my heart race wondering what it is she has planned for me.
She raises a glass whiskey to her cherry red lips, and takes a large swallow of liquid courage.
"Go take a shower. There's a glass of whiskey next to the sink waiting for you. Don't come out until you're clean, shaved, and the glass is empty."
Without saying a word, I do as I'm told. The whiskey is at least three fingers, and I consume half of it stripping out of my work clothes before climbing into the steaming hot shower. I wash off my work day, shave my face, my cock, and my balls. I finish off the whiskey with two deep swallows as I dry myself off and walk back into the living room. I'm so hard I want to take her right then and there, but she's got a plan and I'm sure I'm going to like it, so I try to be patient.
Those red lips curl into a sinister smile, "Good boy. Maybe you're not too stupid to follow directions after all. Put this on," she says handing me a blindfold.
I didn't think my cock could get any harder. I was wrong.
Rachel takes me by the hand and leads me to our bedroom instructing me to lie on the bed. Pulling my wrist until my arm is fully extended, she wraps a leather restraint tightly around my wrist. Without pause, Rachel secures my other arm tightly as well. I listen intently trying to figure out what she's doing and I become keenly aware that I'm already breathing heavily from the rush of adrenaline surging through my veins. Grabbing my ankle, she pulls me towards the foot of the bed securing my legs one at a time. I'm blindfolded and spread eagle literally at her mercy.
I can feel her warm breath on my neck as she whispers into my ear, "Who do you belong to?"
"I belong to you."
"That's right," she whispers. "Tonight, you belong to me. You're my bitch."
"Release my hands, and I'll show you who's the bitch." I reply snidely.
Rachel slaps me across the face. My cheeks sting as I begin to fully understand the totality of my disadvantage. I literally didn't see that coming.
"Let's try this again. Who's the bitch and who do you belong to?"
