Slave Night

"I'm your slave, Master, yours to use and fuck in any way you choose. Please honor your slave with your cock in my mouth, my pussy, my ass, anywhere you like. Fill me with your come, Master, cover me with it, use me as you wish. Oh please, Master, I beg you..."

And always, always, always, her request would be granted, right there on the floor. And sometimes on (or over) the chair as well.

Anita was supposed to beg permission before coming each time, but often a wordless howl was all she could manage.

But even that wasn't the best part.

Afterwards, no matter how exhausted they both were, Don would pick Anita up in his arms, holding her close as he climbed the stairs - his knees trembling a little sometimes - and gently place her on their bed. He'd remove her collar and place it on the nightstand beside her. Then he would fetch a warm, damp washcloth and clean her up as best he could while she lay there, sighing with contentment.

Then he would slip into bed beside her, take her in his arms and let her rest her head on his shoulder. He would kiss her tenderly and tell her how much he loved her. Then they would drift off to sleep, still snuggled together.

That was the best part.