As he kissed her neck he noticed the collar, his collar. He kissed the collar also, licking under it with his tongue.“Michael, we shouldn’t do thi...” she told him between thrusts, “Someone could catch us.”He looked at her his blue eyes narrowed as one brow shot up. “Are you telling me no slave?”Knowing the tone of his voice she dropped her head, “No Master, never.”He pulled her neck back up to his mouth and resumed kissing and sucking it. She thrust her ass back toward him and began to move. Rip, in his spidery, tiny writing, talked about his termagant wife who, along with all the other women of the town he lived in, made his life miserable for such common things as tippling a mug of ale now and then, and for enjoying a beautiful spring day by not wasting it on manual labor. He was overjoyed at being unemployed, as that gave him time to play with the village children and make their toys and go hunting with his faithful dog, Wolf.He wrote at some length about the virtues of home. More

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