Chapter 38
I wake up sore in places I didn’t know could hurt. My thighs are sticky, the sheets twisted around my ankles like they tried to hold me down all night. The collar’s still snug at my throat, leather warm from my skin, the silver ring cool against my pulse. I can smell us everywhere: sweat, c*m, the faint metallic bite of spit dried on my t**s. My cunt throbs with every heartbeat, swollen and tender, still leaking the last load they pumped into me before we finally passed out on the kitchen floor.
I don’t move right away. Just lie there, legs parted, feeling the slow trickle slide out of me and pool under my ass. The plug’s gone, someone must have eased it out while I was half-dead with exhaustion, but the stretch lingers, a dull, delicious ache that makes me clench on nothing.
