Slave's Collar

Master first mentioned a collar early on, and he enjoyed my reaction, even though he already knew what it would be. I swooned at the idea of wearing something that made me a slave; a pet; a possession so visibly. I began to search the web for the right thing, and even made plans to go out and find something within a week later. But he said no.

"When you get your collar, I will give it to you." he stated, firm as though it went without saying. I secretly felt ashamed for not seeing that on my own. Of course he had to be the one to wrap that leather symbol of my status and his ownership around my neck and buckle it tightly. If it wasn't him that gave it to me it would never mean what it meant.

But that meant that I had to wait for it.

Once the plan was in place for him to visit I renewed my search for the right place to find my collar. Having returned to the Big City there were options now, and I found a place that answered all my desires. It celebrated the shackles of joyous ownership -- I knew I would like this shop.

As it turned out, I loved this shop. Here we found fancy handcuffs all shiny and silver, and special purple tape he could use to display me and bind me in place. And we found my beloved collar. As we left the shop, my face blushing with excitement, I told my Master "I'm now very glad that I listened to you and didn't wear a dress to this shop. Because if I had there would now be so much sliding down the insides of my legs you wouldn't even believe it!" He laughed.

I was naked and sitting beside him on the bed. I'd just finished putting the new toys into the fancy box where I'd hidden our previous purchases. This box had been a lovely find for me -- from the outside it appeared to be an ornate book sitting in the cubby of my bedside table. But inside were lovely toys my master could use to play with his toy. Master pulled the collar from the box and told me to move to the center of the room and kneel. As I stood from the bed i felt my legs already turning to jelly in anticipation and lust.

He crossed to me, 10 feet tall from my place before him, and he asked me what I was. I answered with my now-familiar and beloved litany: "I am your slave, your pet, your toy, your possession, your property, your slut." And what was he? "You are my Master, my owner, my possessor, my everything." He told me that the collar he held was a symbol of these roles, and that whenever I wore it I was to remember this, and remember that feeling. He told me that everything I am and everything I have belonged to him. Save this. This was my one and only possession for me to have and cherish. And as he leaned down, placing the black leather snugly around my neck and fastening the buckle in place, my heart raced and my cunt throbbed and I held my breath in a foolish attempt to stop time there forever.

He stepped back to admire the image, and I let my hands rise to feel the leather in its place. A tremendous smile erupted across my face far beyond my control. At that moment I wanted to wear it forever. He asked me how it felt to finally have something I'd waited for so long.

"Amazing." was all I could say. The word was a shameful shadow of the true feeling, but the best i could find in my mind because there is no word that captures it all. Even now when I slide it on and lock it into place I close my eyes and he's there, looming above me, owning me body, mind and soul. Fulfilling my every fantasy.