Hanging from it was an engraved name tag. Whore, it read. I place it around my neck and close the tiny padlock. As I do so, I realize there are no key... in the box. I'm committed to this collar around my neck, regardless of what happens. A moment of panic grips me. What if You are in a fatal crash coming home from work? How would I explain this collar at the airport? To my coworkers? To my k**s? I hear the reassuring sound of Your voice inside my head, "breathe, whore. I will always come for. You know if things had happened a little differently.’ she began as she stood from the couch and placed her drink on the floor before facing Greg as he sat on the couch. ‘I would’ve loved to make love you.’ she offered in a half whispered voice as she pulled the hem of her dress upwards so that she could kneel with a knee on each side of his legs. Slowly she lowered her hips onto Greg’s crotch and began a slow grind, swivelling her hips back and forth. Greg’s cock almost exploded out of his. More

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