The Chris Bellows' Collection by Chris Bellows

Author:Chris Bellows [Bellows, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotica
Publisher: Pink Flamingo Publications
Published: 2014-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two - Charles

“Stay, Corky,” my pretty Master commands, stooping to reattach the short chain from anal insert to scrotum band.

Her soft warm fingers, working where I no longer touch, feel good.

Then with a brisk snap of the leash, the devilish spikes on the interior diameter of my collar abrade my skin and instantly draw my attention to the stern holder of my leash.

“Heel,” comes the next command as Miss Ashley rises and turns to resume the journey to the plantation house.

I bound onto the path to follow, my testicle bells once again chiming with the movement of my thighs. My subservient reaction, the renewed ringing, the shuffling of my elbows and knees to keep up, all bring tittering from my enthralled audience. The entourage follows, most likely transfixed by the scene of a naked male on a leash with sizable balls and erect manhood displayed for all.

The boyfriend strolls forward to Miss Ashley’s side and leans over to place a kiss on her cheek, apparently impressed with her handling of my leash and my ingrained obedience. She smiles, seeming to know that the observance of her control excites him. Does he know that it is my wife he is kissing?

I think back to when I first expressed such similar sentiment, in New York, after several casual phone conversations, the first date. I craftily invited Miss Ashley for an unpretentious meal at a small Greenwich Village bistro, still pretending not to know of her vast wealth.

There we kissed, a mushy kiss reeking of sentiment. I thought I did a credible job of expressing an initial level of romantic attraction to her. And I actually told myself it was not the money. In hindsight, at times I actually believed myself.

But it was the money. Despite her beauty, despite those perfectly proportioned breasts, nicely shaped legs, disregarding the blue eyes and raven hair that made for a striking presence. Knowing that her bank account burgeoned while mine was woefully empty, but for two paydays per month, drove me to attraction.

And so I courted her, ostensibly with true affection, actually with a level of sentiment akin to drafting a merger document. There were steps that I had surmised. And one such step was being subjected to a degree of due diligence, as with any merger. But there was nothing she could learn or find out about me or my background that would harm my chances. On paper I was in earnest. And at age 27, reasonably handsome, college educated with a law degree from Columbia University, I had pedigree. And I was careful. Nothing I did or said would prejudice her against me, belie my displays of affection. After all, she could not read my mind, could not assess the mendacity, the conniving, the true motivations.

I wanted money.

So we dated and we had sex. It was good. Ashley was an attentive lover. But she was also demanding and in my fervor for enrichment I was somewhat blinded to the nature of her vigorous demands.

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