The Temp - Sex Stories

The Temp

... continued in a soft voice. "You have such wonderful slave potential. Perhaps tomorrow you´ll earn the privilege of cumming for me." I was completely at her mercy. The combination of her touch, her scent, her breath on my ear, and the stimulating words she spoke, all conspired to leave me weak in the knees. Veronica stepped back to retrieve her bag, while I continued to stand with my eyes closed, slowly regaining control. I heard the door open, and as I opened my eyes and looked over, I saw Veronica walk out. I picked up the silver bowl that I had licked clean, and returned it to its former place of honor. Each step I took generated a sensation in my groin as my underwear brushed against my pushed up balls, and the edges of the strap dug into my skin. The friction f***ed me to pause every few steps, just to keep myself from going over the edge. I had become the stereotypical male who lets his cock do his thinking, and now Veronica´s ownership collar, both literally and figuratively, had me by the balls. I had willingly become her slave, and every movement I made was a reminder of that fact. I was sinking deeper into an abyss, with seemingly no control over my freefall. My mind was plagued with a devastating dilemma. Even as I felt almost physically sick at the thought that my actions could destroy my marriage, my body still insisted that I obey Veronica´s commands. I plotted how to keep the property tag private, and how to make it through the night without cumming. I was ...

... miserable, and yet my misery was not sufficient motivation to cut off the strap and end my suffering. I could only wait helplessly, and wonder how I would survive what laid ahead. I was beginning to feel schizophrenic. My mood was swinging violently from euphoric arousal to apocalyptic depression. I could close my eyes, and images of my submission to Veronica would send me into an extended state of erotic bliss, with every microbe of my being focused on the pleasure emanating from my perpetually pulsing cock. Then, fear and depression would take hold, and I'd suddenly find myself thinking about the man who confesses that he lost his home and business due to his gambling compulsion, or the man who couldn't overcome his drinking problem until after he ruined his marriage. And I wondered if that man was me. Was I that far gone? Could I permit my behavior to become that self-destructive? A reality check did nothing to allay my fear. At that very moment, while lying in my bed next to my wife, the identification strap which read "property of Ms. Harper" was locked securely around my cock and balls. All it would take to be discovered was for my wife to decide that she wanted to play, and reach out for my cock. Veronica's words played over and over in my head. "You want to be my slave so badly that you'll even risk your wife discovering it." How could it be true? And yet, there I was putting my marriage at risk just to satisfy this inexplicable sexual desire. A previously intelligent, ...