I’m a lawyer. My wife is an accountant.
I snapped the ribbons against her wrists and lashed them to the banister. Tighter. Until she howled in pain, and begged me to fuck her. Sometimes I worried that somebody would see the bruises and start asking difficult questions, but they never did. I guess nobody ever looked that closely.
She wanted me to gag her again. That was the way she liked it. As usual, I was worried that she may choke on the ping pong ball in her mouth, but after I had twisted the scarf around her head a few times she gave me the thumbs up and I relaxed.
She arched her back towards me and in the sharp evening light she looked like an angel. I recalled fondly every one of those welts burned into her stomach, scored across her breasts. Her appetite for experimentation was insatiable – ropes, cuffs, chains. Toys: she had them all, everything you’ve ever heard of and many more besides.
Once, she made me piss on her, twice before I hadn’t been able to, couldn’t bring myself to do it, but if you made yourself a slave to the moment it was surprisingly simple to let go. I have never felt so free before or since.
“You sure you want me to do this, honey?” I asked, leaning over her.
She nodded vigorously, raised her knees, and opened herself up to me, wet and wanting.
I carefully took the grass snake out of the case and laid it on the table.
Tomorrow, we would be wearing suits again.
Brian G. Ross is thirty-three and lives in Scotland. He has over eighty publications to his name – from humour (Defenestration) to horror (Nossa Morte), mystery (Futures Mystery Anthology Magazine) to mainstream (Southern Ocean Review). He appears in the first three volumes of paperback horror anthology Read By Dawn, available from Bloody Books, and is currently at work on his first novel. He is married, both to his wife and his words, and runs a blog of his literary wanderings at briangrantross.blogspot.com.