Collared Mga Nobela at Kwento

Nahlela Today is the first day I was meeting up with Mr “sex on heels” so I have to dress to make a statement. I was going to a football field so I definitely had to dress in a sporty outfit and going to the office and then passing home to change would be a waste of time. I thought of putting on the Chelsea Jersey I used as my sports attire when I was in the university, but it was too obvious. I thought of putting on my pink tied together sweatpants with its matching no sweat crop top but decided against it. After trying different outfits, I settled for my puma classics black and pink tracksuit with black and white vans.

the woman replies, spitting on his face. Chris’ eyes darken at the woman’s actions, his wolf almost coming close to the surface. He breathes in calmly, an attempt to relax his nerves. He lets go of the woman before grabbing a magic-powered collar that one of his men prepared. Once put on someone’s neck, the collar will weaken the state of the wearer. It is imbued with magic essence, and comes with a ring. Whenever the bearer touches the crystal on the ring, the one wearing the collar will be slightly electrocuted enough to cause them pain or to subdue them.

“Clear.” “Good.” He rose smoothly and moved to the small sideboard. For the first time she noticed the collar—a thing that should have been an emblem of ownership but looked more like jewelry, a band of matte black leather with a slim bar of hammered metal and a tiny latch. It sat on the board like an artifact.

It was a masterpiece of art, the most beautiful and precious thing she had ever seen. The collar itself was made of pure white gold, woven into an intricate and delicate pattern like vines from a fairy tale. At the front of the collar was a beautiful diamond pendant in the shape of a white rose, Lalisa’s symbol. And most amazingly… on the back of the collar, at the clasp, were the intertwined initials of all four of them—K, S, K, and L—beautifully and unified. It was not an instrument of bondage… but a royal insignia that signified her highest status.

He is a dirty business man, who gets away with murder and robbing poor people off their cheques. I slip the red, silk gown out of the bag. Apparently, the chauffeur took the ‘sexy’ comment a little too seriously. I slip out of the white cheap gown, and replace it with the red clearly expensive gown. It has a low back cut and has thin spaghetti straps. Since I am not wearing a bra, my nipples are poking at the soft material. I run my hands down the material, smoothing it out before fixing my bangs, and tucking a few strands back into my bun.

Still wearing a speculative look, the storekeeper murmured, "I think I have the perfect piece for you," then led me to a back room. The walls were lined with various toys, but it was the collar that caught my eye—a beautifully crafted piece of silver with an intricate clasp. "It's the awakening twist," she said, holding it up to the light. "But it’s also protection." I stared at the collar, feeling the weight of what it represented. Submission to Alex, protection from Hartwell. "I'll take it," I murmured. But I wouldn’t be wearing it for submission.

Control. This was my domain. I wore the floral collar Ofelia had bribed me into with a piece of grilled chicken. Daisies. A touch of lavender. Something pale and pink I couldn’t identify, but it didn’t offend me. It sat lightly against my fur, and I tolerated it because it matched the mood. And because I looked good in it. Obviously.

I do a double take in the mirror hanging in my bathroom, just to make fucking sure I look good enough for tonight; it's an hour away. The fucking jitters I had are gone now, thanks to a fucking Zanex and drinking a couple fucking glasses of the good scotch I keep on hand. My boy is at his damn friend's house tonight so there's nothing I have to worry about here. The only thing I need to focus on is Myla, and my cock is already fucking hard just thinking about her in that fucking short, gold dress with no panties on, giving me easier fucking access to her pretty little pussy I've been dying to fucking get into; I fucking will succeed in that tonight, though. I make sure to spray my fucking co

Duncan was the IT for me. “Do you know what this is?” his voice was scruffy, hoarse to be exact. I craned my neck to stare at where his voice was coming from, and before I could fully turn, I was met with the sight of a very white leather band, lined with... “A collar.” -over a million diamonds.

Mariane was staring at the front of her closet in a daze, and she was looking at the clothes hanging on the hanger one by one, thinking about what she should wear. ‘Is this the dress I'm wearing?’ Mariane took a black and white colored short sleeve knee-length dress with a collar and measured it on her body while looking at the full-length mirror. She grimaced when Mariane realizes that it was too short, that when she bent over her butt could be seen.