Slave Collar 소설 & 이야기

He begged to come with us but this is supposed to be a surprise. In bdsm, collaring a submissive can either be a kinky night or a true commitment. It's almost like marriage to a lot of members. Only couples who have been together for a while will collar the submissive, however some dominants like their sub to wear a collar for sexy reasons, like to feel more in control. We are getting Cole a collar to show we want him to be ours forever. We want to get a metal chain of some sort that we can padlock and let him wear 24/7. I hope he accepts to wear it, it's entirely his choice. He knows what it is and what it means because he's asked me about other subs who wear collars. I feel my leg start to

“ Need I remind you of this part? And if the master decides no one fuck his slave at the initiation party, if the master decides to punish his slave’s misconduct himself, then he shall be punished according to a punishment decided by the hood,” Jacob nodded his head and said blatantly, “ I am aware of that, Lord Bute,” The audience has a look of displeasure on their faces. Jacob held his head up and demanded,” The collar,” A minute later, a silver tiny collar that could pass as a necklace was handed to him. His eyes narrowed at the thing in his hand. He caressed it slowly and approached where Ava stood, still in shock and fear.

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.

"You taught me that my dominance is entirely meaningless without your grace. When you kneel for me, Cassandra, you do not make yourself small. You make me monumental. You take the fractured, violent ghosts of my past, and you soothe them into absolute peace. You hold the reins of my humanity." He opened the velvet box. Inside, resting on the dark satin, were two pieces of metal. The first was a new collar for me. It was not a delicate chain of diamonds. It was a seamless, solid band of brushed white-gold, impossibly elegant but carrying a distinct, undeniable weight. It was a day-collar, but it possessed the gravity of a permanent claim. It featured a hidden, flush-mounted locking mechanism.

“Let’s have a chat about what happens next, eh?” From under his cloak, Kael fished out this collar, silver, crazy intricate, etched with symbols that made Marcus’s eyes water if he stared too long. The thing didn’t just look alive; it moved, stretching out in these weird, hungry little tendrils, all eager to wrap around his neck. “This’ll help you focus,” Kael said, snapping the collar on like he was doing him a favor. “No more of those pesky, independent thoughts. We’ll put something more… useful in their place.”

The collar is heavier than I expected. Sterling silver, custom-fitted to my throat, with a small tag that reads "Property of Weston Cole." He fastens it himself, his fingers warm against the back of my neck, and I hear the click of the tiny padlock that means I won't be removing it myself. "Perfect fit." He steps back to admire his handiwork. "How does it feel?" "Strange." I touch the metal, cool against my skin. "Good strange."

he rumbled softly, his deep voice cutting through the ambient hum of the club. I froze instantly, holding my breath. He opened the box to reveal a stunning, delicate silver chain harness. It was crafted from fine, weightless sterling links designed to drape gracefully over the shoulders, crossing over the chest, and anchoring directly into the silver ring of my leather collar, dropping down to wrap snugly around my waist.

“Anytime I snap my fingers, you drop to all fours and present that ass. You will be plugged, collared, and leashed twenty-four seven. You will clean my house and warm my cock with your mouth.” At his words, little pre-cum rolled down my shaft and splattered onto the floor. Mr. Hawthorne noticed and smirked “Already leaking. Good. That means you understand.” He reached into the folder and pulled out the collar. It was thick black leather about two inches wide. The tag was already engraved: **Hawthorne’s Property Good Boys Only**. “On your knees, pup.” I went down instantly. Mr. Hawthorne crouched in front of me. He slid the collar around my throat.

"But if she screams, I am taking your head." "She will scream." Malachi crushed the herbs into a dark, thick paste. "True purge will hurts more than the poison ever did." He pressed his palm to Elena's forehead. Her skin was so hot the straw beneath her began to smoke. "Hold her, Reaper. Do not let her break the circle." Sloane lunged forward, pinning Elena's shoulders to the pallet. The moment he touched her, the Shackle on his wrist went insane. The golden numbers began to spin, blurring as they devoured his seconds.

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.