Collared Novels & Stories

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.

Inside lay a thick black leather collar, wide enough to sit just above her breasts, engraved with a single line of tiny, elegant script that she couldn’t read yet: *Ours. Forever.* “I don’t want a wedding band or a house or anything that makes this official,” he said quietly. “Just this. So when he looks at you, he’ll know exactly who you belong to.” Emma’s breath hitched. She’d known this was coming. After seven straight days of them using every room, after the shower, the rug, the kitchen island, the hallway, the guest room, the couch after waking up every morning leaking and plugged and smiling at Mark like nothing had happened she’d known the collar would be the final step.

Rachel asked, holding out two pink collars, one read 'Cumdump,' the other had 'Sex Doll' written in silver glitter. "Cumdump" Sara replied with a chuckle, grabbing the appropriate collar and attaching it to her neck, "Seems to be my nickname these days." The other two collars were handed out to the two boys of the day, both blue, one reading 'Asshole' and the other 'Good Boy'.

Anestra laughed loudly, tossing her head back. “You cannot stay in there forever,” said Anestra. “You’ve come here to kill me but I will show you mercy,” she promised with a wicked grin. “I will add you to my collection,” she said, jingling the three collars at them. Cory watched as the three collars mended themselves in Anestra’s hand. The collars then unclasped themselves though Hayden had not been able to get the clasp open earlier. The collars were ready to be clasped onto new necks now.

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 came out of the room with her knees still trembling. She was wearing a Gray colored oversized hoodie jacket and black leggings. David chose them for her as he didn’t want the men in the mansion to drool over her body. Mariane had no choice but to wear them as well. So, she could hide the love bites, David did to her body. Fortunately, their house was airconditioned and she wouldn’t feel hot. Kim’s brows furrowed when she saw Mariane walking down the stairs fully covered with her clothes. What’s lacking in her outfit was a scarf, to cover her head and face, so only her eyes can see.

It is used only for private meetings and nothing else. Atkins pulls off his thin black T-shirt, his collar-length hair scraped back into a slick ponytail. He isn’t allowed to speak unless he is asked a question. Tonight, Atkins is the lowest of the Alvrado’s brotherhood , but he is higher than a civilian. First places the scissors against Arlkins scalp, hacking off his long hair. He isn’t allowed to grow it long until after his first year. The ponytail slices off neatly “A souvenir from your past.” Anatoli places his hand on Atkins shoulder. . A drink, and then time to mark you.”