Burka

- Lift your dress and wank.

- Jesus Lord...

His hand traced the collar on her neck.

- You put this on. Wank.

Her hand slid under the dress and between her legs.

- Lift the fucking dress, show your cunt to the window.

She was shaking, but lifted the dress. Their flat was on the ground floor. The window was onto a public street: not well-used, but still public. It was dark outside, but there were lit windows in the flats opposite. Her cunt had dried. She felt the heat of the lamp on her exposure. Slowly her fingers moved to play with herself.

She gasped when she felt his fingers trace her arse slowly, her moisture beginning to return. Started rubbing herself, sensation growing as the dope reached through her. Her movements intensified when his fingers entered her anus. He was thrusting two fingers into her, licking her earlobe. She felt the wetness soaking her blurred fingers; was turned on by her own cuntstink, her lewd reflection in the window, his fingers in her.

- This is something you've always wanted to do but never dared, isn't it slave? I know you hate this, but you need it.

He bit her neck below the ear. She shuddered as the orgasm swept her.

- Thank you slave. You may get off the table now.

He drew the curtains and put the lamp back where it belonged. Moved a low chair to the table:

- You might be more comfortable kneeling than sitting whilst you're eating?

She could only nod, still quivering from her orgasm. Knelt on the chair as he brought the meal to the table. He poured wine, raised his glass to hers:

- Slainthe, my sweet slave.

They ate in silence. She couldn't find words through her humiliation, pain and excitement. He remained impassive, though his eyes washed over hers lightly. When they finished he nodded at the table, said:

- Kitchen-slave now.

He left the room as she cleared dishes, started washing up. When she finished he was dressed to go out, holding the burka, a bulky fur coat. And her leash.

- Lord, your slave needs the toilet before we go out.

- Fine.

He was amused by her choice of words. Normally she'd have said she needed to pee, or shit. He clipped her leash on. She stood gazing at him.

- The toilet you said?

- Yes Lord. I... Your slave would like to go alone. Please?

- You are collared and leashed. Slave goes nowhere alone, unless it's her Lord's pleasure. She bowed her head, and let him draw her into the toilet.

- Um, Lord, please, I... slave.. needs to shit.

- Good. Remove your dress.

She didn't know why, but she was uncomfortable. He dropped the leash so she could slip the skimpy velvet garment over her head.

- Shit in the bath. So your Lord can watch everything. Don't start yet.

She stepped into the bath, squatted over the drain. She watched as he undressed. What the...?

Then he was standing before her in the bath, cock turgid. He held the leash taut so her head was angled awkwardly, half-sideways. He was watching her cunt. When the pee started to trickle from her urethra, he released, and his torrent of piss sprayed her face, her tits. He watched between her crouched thighs as the shit began dropping from her, and aimed his jet at her clit. His eyes hardly left hers.

*****

He went out as she cleaned up the bath; returned with the burka and fur coat. In the mirror he noted that her makeup was a mess. She was about to wash herself where he'd pissed on her, but he twisted her arm into a half-nelson:

- No, we're going for a walk in the park. As you are slave, piss-soaked. Get the burka on, and shoes. Um, and it's cold. Best wear holdups too.

When she was ready he helped her into the heavy coat, took the leash. She shivered as they left the building; winter cold, fear and excitement mixed. An elderly couple stared at them in the douce suburban street.

The park appeared empty when they entered it, winter-bare trees visible in clear moonlight. At the deserted children's play area he drew her to a waist-high platform:

- Suck me slave. He's shrivelled with the cold.

She knelt in the snow, glad the coat was long. Opened his fly. Bent to take his shrunken cock between her lips. He leaned at the waist to slip his hands beneath the fur. Freezing fingers on her breasts through thin silk. She shivered as he pinched her nipples. His cock hardened in her. She sucked, felt the wet in her cunt as his cock became rigid in her hot mouth. He pushed her away:

- Now, on your back on the platform. Coat open, pull the burka right up, exposing yourself. Legs over the edge. This slave is going to get fucked.

Jesus, she was perfect, on her back in the snow, splayed for him. The camera flashed: anyone on the street a few yards away would have looked. Then with an animal grunt he shafted her, driving deep into cuntheat. He exploded in her in minutes, screaming obscenities to the night sky. For once she didn't orgasm. *****

He was in bed first. When she slid in beside him she was still collared. He whispered as he nuzzled into the wife he adored:

- My darling, your Lord chooses to love his slavegirl now.

His hands explored her with familiar caresses, stroking down her form, till one settled in her soaking groin...