One of those things with spiral interwoven links. It was beautiful and in a weird way kind of matched the chain between my nipples. My new look. ‘T...ll your husband you couldn’t resist it. I’m sure he’ll understand,’ said the voice. I’ve read about collaring slaves – romantic stories about women giving themselves totally to their husband, lover, master; and always it’s a high point in a relationship. Not for me, but then I wasn’t that kind of slave and compared to a piece of dirty string. And then, slowly, very slowly, but surely, her hands moved to her pussy, pushing the mass of puke on her stomach to her cunt. Saphira began to move her hand slowly over her clit, grinding the vomit into her snatch. Faster and faster and faster she began to move her fingers, until she was masturbating feverishly, as if her life depended on it. Her free hand moved to her tits, scooping up a small handful of vomit. As if unconsciously, she started to move her hand to her mouth. At first she. More

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