Kate collars and leashes you

Kate slips something around your slim neck. A collar!? The leather of the snug collar is cool against the fever-hot skin of your throat as Kate buckles it with a practiced ease. The trapping is black, supple with three silver D-rings glinting in the low light. She threads the matching leash through the front ring and gives it a single, testing tug, and your head jerks forward obediently. A fresh, humiliating gush of wetness slicks the place where Mark is still buried to the hilt. You feel so small. So controlled. So submissive. So wrong. So horny…

“There we go little girl,” she breathes, voice a firm and mocking velvet in your ear. “Now you’re properly dressed for the occasion. You look absolutely owned. Adorable.”

She wraps the leash twice around her fist, shortening its length until your neck is arched and your gaze is **** upward right into her dark, glittering eyes. The shortness of the leash reinforces the sense of control. Your lack of power. And this slightly awkward position makes every brutal plunge of Mark’s cock feel deeper and more obscenely arousing. Your spine bows, large breasts lifting and out thrust, nipples painfully hard. Her demeanour cruelty makes everything more intense. You are not equals. Your roles were never like this before. Ever. You mewl in frustration. Why had you never done this before!? You’d been missing out.

Mark laughs low in his throat, “Fuck, look at that,” he rasps, slowing his thrusts just enough to make you feel every thick inch dragging out, then slamming back in. “Leashed and collared like a good little bitch in heat. You’re clenching so much hard right now.”

Kate smirks, giving another deliberate pull. Your airway narrows sweetly, not enough to ****, just enough to remind you who’s holding the reins. Who is controlling who. Kate is taller, stronger, more imposing. A mistress. Fuck yes.

“Tell me,” Kate orders, voice dropping to something dangerously soft. “Tell me why I had to collar you tonight, Jackie.”

Your lips part on a shaky gasp. Mark chooses that exact moment to grind deep, circling his hips so the head of his cock bullies that spot inside you that makes your vision white out.

“Because… um because… ” your words fracture. “Because I deserve it … need to behave … belong in it.”

Kate’s free hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing into the soft underside so your mouth falls open wider. “Louder. Use your words little girl.”

“Because I’m a **** slut who needs to be owned,” you manage, voice cracking on the last word as Mark picks up speed again, wet slapping sounds filling the room.

Kate’s smile is slow, predatory. “That’s right. You’re out slut. This is where you belong.” She leans in until her lips nearly brush yours, but not quite. Instead she speaks against your open mouth, each word a hot little brand.

“You spent years pretending you didn’t want this. Pretending you were above it. Pretending you were a man like Mark when we all know you’re just a little needy cunt. Look at you now bitch, body swapped, collared, drooling vapidly at the idea of being fucked stupid while I watch. This is what you were always meant for. Isn’t it?!” She tugs the leash and it constricts about your throat and you can’t answer. It’s a rhetorical question at this point. Everyone knows who and what you are now.

Another sharp yank on the leash and your back arches harder as Mark groans at the way the new angle makes you tighten around him.

“Gonna come like this?” Kate taunts, dragging her nails down the center of your chest, raising red lines that burn deliciously. “Leashed. Owned. Taking cock like the needy whore you pretended you weren’t?”

Mark’s rhythm stutters. He’s close too, you can feel it in the way his fingers dig bruises into your hips, the way his breathing has gone ragged. “Answer her Jackie,” he growls, slamming in so hard your teeth click together.

“Yes…” The word is almost a sob. “Yes, please. Kate… Mark… fuck me!”

Kate winds the leash tighter, pulling until your throat is beautifully exposed, pulse hammering under the leather.

“Then come,” she commands, voice like a whipcrack wrapped in silk. “Come while I hold your leash and he fills you up. Show me exactly how much better you are when you finally stop fighting it.”

Mark’s next thrust is vicious, perfect, relentless. And the world splinters.

You come apart with a strangled cry, body seizing, cunt spasming so hard around him that he curses raggedly and follows right after, pumping you full in hot, thick pulses while Kate keeps the leash taut, keeping your head exactly where she wants it, your eyes locked on hers as you shatter. “Yeah. That’s it. Our little Jo. Tiny. Big breasts. Hungry cunt. Dirty, little slut. You love cock. Don’t you Princess. Our little fuck ****.”

When the aftershocks finally ebb, Kate doesn’t release the leash. She simply strokes your cheek with her knuckles, almost tender “Good pet,” she murmurs. “You are perfect like this. Perfect.”

Then she glances at Mark, still half-hard and glistening inside you. “Again,” she says simply.

Mark’s grin returns, lazy and dangerous.

Kate gives the leash one more slow, deliberate tug.

“Again.”