Ninety

Isobelle

I gripped the hem of my dress and lifted it over my head, baring myself to them — and the lone sheep in the far distant corner of the green. Tossing the garment onto the grass, I observed the slack-jawed hunks staring back at me. Heat simmered behind each set of eyes, promising to devour me and swallow me whole.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Alex ordered, letting the thin, black rope dangle past his knees.

It draped from his fingers as he moved behind me, then began binding my hands at the base of my spine. The soft rope didn’t hurt, but it gave the slightest burn as it pulled tighter, securing my wrists together.

“Kneel,” he commanded, and I obeyed.

Lifting my chin with his fingertips, he kept my eyes trained on him. Kneeling on the smooth blanket, I awaited further instructions like a good submissive.

It was only last week I took him for walkies around the forest and ordered him to fuck me against a tree.

Our marriage was all about give and take and tonight I intended