My Lord’s Chains

72476c50ee9b74158ed2c8bdde9cb6a5Really, it’s my own fault. I told Him that I would not, simply would not wear a collar in public. Not tonight, not any night. No. That collar was for us privately. I was not His 24/7 submissive. I had agreed to be his 24/2 1/2 submissive. From Friday after work until Monday morning, I was his collared girl, but from Monday to Friday I was my own person. True, tonight is Friday, so I suppose that means that He does have the right to require what He will of me. Still, we’re going out in public. The collar, while of fine leather, is soft, but also tight and uncomfortable. I should have known I got off easy when he relented so quickly. All he said was “Okay. The choice is yours, but you know there will be consequences.”

Consequences. Shit. Too late now to take back my hasty words. Afterall, it was just a little collar and we were going to a private club where no one from work would be. Hell, we weren’t even in the same city as where we lived! What did I have to complain about? Still, it was too late to take back my hasty words. This often happens on a Friday evening – it takes me a whildiaper-position1e to get into “sub-mode.”

First consequence – a spanking. Not just any spanking. He waited until I was half dressed in my stockings and heels (I’m never allowed to wear undies or a bra on weekends). Then, he told me to sit on the bed. He tied my ankles together and pushed me back, raising my legs and putting me in the “diaper” position. I HATE this position. It’s freaking humiliating!! Then, he wailed away on my poor behind – first with his hand, then with a ping pong paddle. Trust me, if you’ve never been spanked with a ping pong paddle, you don’t want to be! It stung like hell and I knew I’d be tender and sore for the whole weekend from this spanking alone.

Second consequence – If I wouldn’t wear his collar, I’d wear his chain. I looked at him in confusion. He grinned and handed me a present. I opened it slowly. A body chain. Beautiful, silver. With my bottom still burning, I didn’t dare argue. I put it on. It’s intricate design draped my body. I was truly beautiful and lightweight, much more comfortable than the collar. He handed me a dress. I gaped at him. The dress was skimpy – down to there and up to here. The body chain would be clearly visible. EVERYONE at the club would know I wore it and it alone beneath the white dress.

“But Milord. . . ” I began.

“One more word and I’ll add nipple jewelry as well.”

My mouth snapped shut. Now, my face is flaming while all the other diners stare at me. Milord just smiles and sips his wine. I get wet watching him and groan. A white dress. Crap. He grins at me, knowing I’ve just figured out my third consequence.

2 thoughts on “My Lord’s Chains

  1. Once, Sir took me to a nightclub and He put my collar and leash on, and He just walked around, like there was nothing weird about it. Everyone was staring, people were pointing at me, no one knew what was happening. It was the best time ever, but I’m an exhibitionist, so I liked it. A lot!
    But on a day to day basis, my collar is actually a leather bracelet, very similar to His own, and I’m very proud of it. The “collar” doesn’t have to an actual collar, in out opinion, but something meaningful for both

    Like

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