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My sex tensed and rippled with an overwhelming need for him. “Yes Master,” I said. I began the slow crawl across the cold floor. My knees scraped on the concrete's rough surface but I ignored the pain, knowing the pain of disobedience would be greater if I were to disobey. He held my chain and walked me like a dog, "Good little pet,” his voice was light, caring. I squirmed as my traitorous desire ran down my leg. We reached the bed, and he leaned down and unhooked the chain from my collar. The bed was huge, Gothic in its dark wood and posts. Leather straps hung from the corners. “Wait,” he commanded. Instinctively, I knew the rules. I knelt, legs slightly parted, my head down, arms at a ninety degree angle, palms up. My need to please him was overwhelming. From this position he could see my shame, he could see the desperate need between my legs. He knew the power he had over me, my treatourous body that ached for his touch, ached for his control, ached to be used by him. He put. She was beautiful, and looked like she could have been a model.After several martinis', which is Sandra's favorite, we were feeling pretty tipsy, excused ourselves,and headed back to our room. Sandra and I decided for a skinny dip in our small private pool. While on our patio, we noticed Susan walking on the path back to our villa. Several minutes later, one of the bartenders came up the path. He was a young Jamaican local, very black and well built, and was carrying a bottle of wine and a glass. Shortly after that, Sandra and I headed to bed. While I was getting ready for bed, Sandra fell asleep naked on the bed, obviously having had too much to drink. I covered her with a blanket and was about to turn on the TV when I heard voices and laughing coming through the wall from Susan's room. Remembering that Susan had said she was alone, I forgot about the TV and concentrated on the sounds from the next room. It got quiet for a few minutes and then I heard the unmistakable sound of.
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