Lisa's Bull Breeds Her on Anniversary

Mark had spent all afternoon preparing the perfect anniversary dinner. Candlelight flickered across the dining table set with their best china. The scent of roasted lamb and rosemary filled their suburban home. He wore the crisp white shirt Lisa liked, though the steel chastity cage beneath his trousers had been locked on him for three weeks now. Tonight was their tenth wedding anniversary, and he hoped—prayed—she might finally grant him release.

The front door clicked open behind him. Lisa stepped in wearing a slinky crimson dress that clung to every lush curve of her body. Her heavy breasts strained the low neckline, and the hem barely reached mid-thigh. Her long auburn hair spilled over bare shoulders. She looked breathtaking.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” she purred, heels clicking as she crossed to him. She cupped his face and kissed him lightly, then smiled with wicked sweetness. “I have a surprise for you.”

Mark’s heart lifted for half a second.

The doorbell rang.

Lisa’s smile widened. “That’s him.”

Mark’s stomach dropped. He knew exactly who “him” was.

Tyrone.

The massive black bull who had owned Lisa’s pussy for the last fourteen months strode in like he owned the house. Six-foot-four, built like a linebacker, wearing a tight black button-down that stretched across his powerful chest and shoulders. His dark eyes flicked over Mark with amused contempt before locking on Lisa with raw hunger.

“Damn, baby,” Tyrone rumbled, voice deep enough to vibrate in Mark’s ribs. “You wore that little red fuck-dress just for me.”

Lisa giggled like a schoolgirl and melted against the bigger man. Mark stood frozen beside the carefully prepared dinner as Tyrone’s huge hands immediately roamed over his wife’s ass, squeezing the plump cheeks openly.

“Mark,” Lisa said without looking away from her bull, “be a good boy and get Tyrone a whiskey. Neat. Then bring me a glass of champagne. We’re celebrating.”