Slave Collar Novels & Stories

Holding up a collar she asked, "How's this?" The collar was black leather, with soft felt lining the inside, and it had silver studs around the outside of it. It also had several silver metal loops spaced around it. It was fastened together by a small silver fastener similar to a belt buckle. Pretending to think about it for a few seconds, Elias said, "I think that might do. Can you put in on her for me to make sure it fits?" he asked innocently. Coloring a deeper red, Iris quickly replied "sure," and stepped forward until her body was almost touching Mrs. Mark's. She reached up and gently placed the collar around Mrs. Mark's neck, fastening it at the back.

He opened it, revealing a collection of objects that seemed to belong in a museum. "These artifacts," he began, picking up a delicate silver chain, "were once used by the ancient Alphas and Lunas to enhance their bond and pleasure." He let the chain dangle from his fingers, the silver links catching the soft light. "This, my dear, is a pleasure collar. It was worn by Lunas to signify their submission and devotion to their Alpha." Isla's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of the exquisite collar. It was a work of art, with intricate engravings of wolves chasing the moon along its length. The silver shimmered under the warm glow of the room.

“But…” “Don’t make me use force on you. I can have you whipped mercilessly for your disobedience. Whatever I say you must do. Do you realise this collar doesn’t just signify your status as a lowly slave that collar justifies Me. You’re to do whatever I wish and command and failure to do so your head will be hanging on a spike and don’t think of getting that collar off your neck you can’t I’d love to see you try but the more you try to get rid of it the more it’ll continue to hurt you and make you bleed till you die.” He began to encircle around where I stood as goosebumps began to pop up on my skin, the fear of his chilling voice melting me down. “That’s a customised collar with your Initial

‘Well, well, seems he can dish it out but he cannot take it, what about you two beauties? He picked up the riding crop and walked slowly toward them enjoying the fear in their eyes, placing it under Trina’s chin he lifted her head so she had to look into his and it was like looking into hell, ‘You, my little slave, I am saving for last, you are going to bring me the greatest pleasure.’ He reached into his pocket and drew out a golden collar that had long golden chains attached with nipple clamps on them, it sparkled with diamonds, ‘This has been specially made for you my little slave and soon you will beg me to put it on you and I will brand you to, there will be no mistaking who you belong

She looked down at him, her hair a dark curtain around her face. “You thanked me,” she murmured. “That deserves a reward. But not the one you crave.” She reached to the nightstand and retrieved a small, black velvet box. Inside was a slender, polished steel collar, simple and severe. She held it up. “This is my mark. My claim. Do you accept it?” His answer was instant, fervent. “Yes, Mistress. Please.” She fastened it around his throat. The cool metal clasp closed with a soft click. It fit perfectly. He wore it like a medal of honor.

"Next, you would advance your submissives to where you are today, commitment collars. Where they are fully trained and are now willing to make a lasting commitment to you two as Dominates. You've already gotten your ceremony worked out and you realize that locking the collar on is a large part of that. Locking symbolizes the seriousness of a lasting commitment. I can order a version of these collars for that with normal locks. She pointed to the ones she had on display. "These, however, are of a different variety These are the last type of collar, a permanent collar." Each collar was a choker style collar with rings of yellow, rose, and white gold. Yellow of the bottom rings that were offset

Her eyes followed it. “What’s that?” “A choice.” She licked her lips. “Dante—” “Let me speak first.” I sat beside her and opened the box. Her breath caught. The collar was black leather, smooth and gleaming. A single silver ring hung at the front. Not for pulling but as a symbol, of ownership, of submission, of belonging.

My hands stayed locked behind my back, my chest rose and fell faster now. His finger slid into my hair, just firm enough to control my head position. Then a sound came—click. My eyes flicked sideways just as he brought it into view. A collar. Heavy. Dark iron. He lifted the collar. The cold metal touches my skin, his dried bloody hands on my neck. A click of metal followed and then it closed around my throat. His voice breathed into my skin. “A wolf that wanders without command gets leashed.”

It was a circular collar, etched with the jagged, snarling Crest of the Wolf. "What is that?" Noah tried to scramble back, but Ethan’s boot slammed down on the hem of his cloak, pinning him to the spot. "It’s the truth." Ethan knelt. He pulled the collar open. The hinge creaked, a high-pitched scream in the narrow tunnel. "You said the Silk Wing was a cage. You said the dresses were lies. Fine. No more silk. No more lace." "Ethan, don't—please—"

"How can I remove the collar? There must be a way." Thalana hesitated, glancing toward the doorway as if checking for listeners. "I shouldn't tell you this," she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "But since we were friends..." She leaned even closer. "The collar can only be unlocked by Nyxios's mana or blood." "His blood?" Patrina repeated, mind racing with implications. "Yes, but don't get any violent ideas," Thalana warned. "Attempting to harm a noble carries penalties I wouldn't wish on anyone, collar or no collar."