Novel & Cerita Kalung Hitam Di Leher

“Keep it close to your skin. Do not take it off until it is finished.” Isolde stepped forward and looped the red string around my neck. Her fingers were cool when they brushed my skin. The pendant settled against my chest like a small and heavy secret. I felt its weight and the tiny chill of the carved stone. She tied the knot and tucked the ends. “Do not touch it,” she told me. “It listens.”

“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.

Silver. Laced with black leather and edged with ancient rune-work. My stomach dropped. He stepped closer. I stepped back, barely half a pace. A mistake. His hand shot out, gripped the back of my neck, and yanked me forward. My breath caught. "Still," he said, so softly it could've passed for affection. I didn't move. His fingers brushed my hair aside, exposing my throat. The collar glinted in the torchlight as he raised it — beautiful in a terrifying way. It looked like it belonged to something valuable.

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.

“Perhaps this moment of crisis is exactly the right time.” I stared at the box, confused. “Igor, what is this? I don’t need a gift. I need a contingency plan.” He gave a slight, wry smile. “This is part of the contingency plan. It’s an anchor. A tether.” He opened the box. Inside, resting on the velvet, was a necklace. It wasn't flashy. It was a fine, heavy platinum chain, and suspended from it was a small, perfectly smooth, cylindrical pendant. It was about an inch long, simple and discreet, crafted from dark, polished titanium—a material that absorbed light rather than reflecting it. It looked expensive, minimalist, and completely anonymous.

It took two attempts before she managed to open the box and then she pulled out an intricate leather choker with a huge diamond teardrop in the very middle, designed to rest in the hollow of her throat. He’d spent a lot of time searching for just the right piece of jewelry. It wasn’t just a necklace. Far from it. It was a stamp of his possession. A signal of his ownership. It was a . . . collar. Not that he would tell her that. Later. When she was more comfortable in their relationship. For now, he was content with the knowledge that he knew what it was and that she would wear it.

Nevertheless, it was pretty much the only happy time he had. He looked through almost every item available on the website currently, only two getting his attention. One a black leather choker and the other one being a matte black hand harness which he would completely body. After placing his order, Young-Jae closed his laptop and got up from his apparently 'gaming' chair to go take a shower.

“You like what happens when you do.” A flush rises, visible even in the firelight. He’s going to needle anyway, because it’s in his marrow. He hooks a finger under the lid and lifts it slowly. The scent of leather, oil, and fresh wood breathes into the room. Inside are the items I had custom made for us. A pair of black leather cuffs lined in soft lambskin. A braided lead with a polished brass clip, attached to a wide black leather collar. A silk blindfold the color of midnight. A glass plug the size of a plum, already warming in a fold of fleece. A paddle made of walnut, hand-crafted to fit my palm. A strip of velvet ribbon, a vial of warming oil and a coil of hemp rope, bone-white and pati

He was very excited to receive that one. Lena got him a custom-made necklace that had two black wolves sitting side by side on a pendant with a full moon in the background. He looked totally whipped when he put the necklace on. She had the necklace made with a slide clasp so that it wouldn’t strangle him if he shifted with it on.

His left hand shot out and pinned both of Helene's arms against the stone balustrade, trapping her completely while his right hand maintained his crushing grip on her throat. I reached for Helene's left hand. On her middle finger sat a heavy, square ring carved from black iron and set with a cloudy green stone. The anchor of the night-rot. Helene's eyes widened in sudden, frantic panic as my fingers closed around the ring. "Do not touch it, you fool! You will trigger the fatal dose!" "I am not touching your spell, Helene," I replied quietly, looking straight into her dying eyes. "I am ending it."