Collared Mga Nobela at Kwento

The collar arrived on a Tuesday. It came in a black velvet box, delivered by a silent assistant who left it on Lila’s desk without a word. No note. No explanation. Just the box, cool and mysterious, sitting on her keyboard like a dare. She stared at it for a long time. It was slim. Black leather. A single silver loop at the front. No name tag. No key. Just simplicity and control. Her fingers brushed over it. Her thighs clenched.

It was a deeper connection, a silent acknowledgment of our shared fate. He reached up, brushing away a tear that had escaped my control, his cool touch gentle against my skin. "Yes, kitten, I guess I did want us to match... But you understand you don't have to wear it once we finish the academy, right? I don't want this for you for eternity." The collar, a mere strip of leather around his neck, was a testament to centuries of survival, bending without breaking. It stood as a sad reminder of the sacrifices and burdens borne, not for the sake of submission, but for the intricate dance of power and protection that defined this world.

"A leather studded one please" "OK here you go , last one in the shop, lead to match as well" The collar was made of inch thick leather and was regularly studded, it had a large brass ring attached, for hanging the tag of off presumably. Now the hard part thought Fay, the man was hovering behind her she could feel his presence, his stare burning into her back as he took in her attire.

It was a weapon disguised as fabric—and the collar resting beside it was the blade. Not a tracker. A symbol. I watched her storm into the hallway barefoot, shouting after Sia. “Sia! What the fuck is this?” “Part of the outfit.” “It’s a goddamn collar!” “It’s part of the event dress code.” She chased her like she thought logic still had a place here. “What kind of business event requires—” But Sia was already gone. Elevator doors slicing between them like the chapter break I needed. I leaned back in my chair, laced my fingers together, and stared at the paused feed of the collar still sitting on her vanity. High-grade leather. Silver hardware. Custom sizing.

but the sound felt like chains. Emilia rose and crossed the room, pressing her palm into the cold glass of the barred window. The garden spread below, dim in the twilight. Once, it had been her only piece of freedom, a place to breathe. Now even the flowers looked trapped behind stone. Collateral. That was the word Dante had thrown at her again and again. Collateral with silk dresses, locked doors, and knives hidden under pillows. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could survive being caught between his obsession and Luca’s venom.

Show everyone that submission freely given is stronger than any spelled collar could ever be. The collar in my pocket has been there for days, waiting for the right moment. I'd had it made the morning after she asked, knowing exactly what I wanted: simple black leather, soft enough not to chafe, elegant silver buckle engraved with protection runes that an elder helped design. Not to control – never to control – but to keep her safe. To let her feel my presence even when we're apart. My thumb traces the inside of the collar where I had one word etched: "Chosen." Because that's what this is about – her choice to submit, my choice to claim and protect.

Ping added quietly, “…there’s no going back.”

Sits me on the edge. Then he reaches into the duffel and pulls out the collar. Black leather. Soft inside. Heavy silver O-ring. A small engraved plate on the front that catches the morning light: Property of Sir. My breath hitches. My pussy, fucked raw, empty, exhausted, throbs.

Collen declared smiling back at her. BANG!