That fear of too much pleasure, of what will happen to me should I cross the line or jump off the cliff to my release, surfaces again. My breath is th...ck in my throat, my heart thundering as waves of ecstasy roll through me. I can feel my completion building, each new sensation piling on top of the other. Absently, I am aware still of Asmodeus soft tongue, sharp teeth and rough hands ravaging my breasts. The feelings are the source of my paradise but work so well that I am disjointed from them,. When the ice-cold blade made contact with my labia, I hissed. Had he taken it straight from a fucking fridge?! I almost snapped at the man, but caught myself when I realized that it was lingering there longer than it should have. The touch of that cold, sharp steel cutting tool on my most intimate parts seemed to suggest things I was desperate not to think about. Was this some kind of unspoken threat? Unbidden, my mind filled with the most horrible images of mutilation that he could mete out on. Or so I thought!No longer able to contain my libido, I pulled my pants and briefs down. My hard cock sprang out and stood rigidly like a freaking flag pole. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and then climbed on top of the bed."Hey, baby girl." I cooed as I massaged her shoulder. She seemed to arouse slightly from her sleep before letting out what sounded like a pleasured gasp.Taking the sound she made as a sign of approval, I moved in on her. I rolled her to her back and then straddled her. Around my neck is a matching red lacy collar and on my feet, where they will stay until morning area pair of 5 or so inch spiked heel shoes. Walking in these things are killing me. I wish I was out of these shoes but my wife said put them on. So I wait for her permission to take them off.I’m looking down at my crotch and I see my manhood. Or what there is to see through the hard plastic cage that wraps my cock and confines my balls. I wish I was that man in bed with my wife. The one she would.