Being owned – Part 14
I was sitting on the windowsill in my bungalow and looking outside. The sun was shining brightly, but a cold wind rustled the nearly leafless trees. It nearly hurt, this longing to be outside, be active, do something. I had been staying in his house for four days. The routine was suspended, only he had fucked me, again and again, in both shapes. On the fifth day, he had declared, that I was no longer ‘in heat’ and brought me back here. Back to the old routine. A morning fuck with one of his dogs, an evening fuck with him, sometimes a dog before that. In the meantime, there was not much to do. It was too cold to go outside, so I had the choice between reading or watching the telly. Or, as now, …