41 Lindsey
Lindsey
I CRAWL BEHIND DANE like a pet on a leash.
I should find it humiliating, but in fact, I find it the opposite.
I feel calm, at peace, especially with the weight of Dane’s—my Sir’s—training collar around my neck.
The gentle pressure of it along with the tug of the leash as we head toward his bedroom is a feeling I didn’t know I needed.
I’ve read about being collared on blogs from submissives on . Many say it was a day they’ll always remember, maybe even the best day of their life, regardless of if it was a play collar, a training collar, a collar of consideration—the next step up—or a permanent collar.
Over the last two weeks, I’ve imagined what it would be like to receive my training collar, what it would look like and feel like around my neck. But nothing could compare to the actual thing.
And while I can’t call this the best day of my life, since becoming a mother holds that spot, hearing Dane’s vow, feeling him put the leather choker around my neck, is a close second. It’s hard to describe how it feels other than right.
The bridge of my nose stings, and I blink back the tears, bringing my focus to the bite of the wood floor on my knees as I crawl and the gentle rustle of Dane’s slacks as he walks in front of me.
We pass through a doorframe, and when the edge of his bed comes into view, he stops.
Like the first night I was here and he had me crawl, my skirt is short, and my sex is partially exposed.
I feel the air of the room against my heated skin, the black thong I wore for tonight already soaked.
I debated if I should even wear underwear, but I slid this pair on at the last minute in hopes he would like it.
Dane turns so he’s facing me, the leash tugging gently on the collar around my neck. I swallow but don’t move, staying in this position until he tells me otherwise. He hums to himself, the sound only serving to make me wetter.
A second later, he unclips the leather leash but doesn’t give me instruction. There’s a heated pause in the room until the floor vibrates with the weight of his footsteps. He walks around me, taking his time as if he’s observing a piece of art.
My thighs begin to shake, not from nerves over what I believe will happen tonight but from desire.
The more comfortable I get not only in my body but in my submission as well, the more I enjoy the feeling of being erotically objectified by him.
I trust him completely, and there’s never been a day in the last few weeks that he hasn’t called me beautiful or given me praise.
Dane’s hand pets my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands.
I gently lean into it like a cat wanting more.
His warm chuckle fills the space, and he scratches my scalp before continuing a heated path down my back.
When he reaches my ass, he flips up my skirt, fully exposing my backside to him.
His fingers caress the skin of my cheeks, and I nearly moan when his touch dips dangerously low, near my back entrance.
Before he can touch the tight ring, he grips the lacy fabric of my thong and tugs on it. The wet fabric pulls between the lips of my pussy, rubbing against my swollen clit. The pressure between my ass cheeks only adds to the interesting sensation, and this time, I don’t hold back my loud moan.
Dane must enjoy my reaction, because he does it again. My hips naturally move forward to gain more friction, and the desire to rest my weight on my forearms so my ass is in the air for him becomes heavy in my mind.
A resounding smack echoes. The skin of my ass stings from his smack as I cry out.
“I didn’t tell you to move, did I, baby?”
“No, Sir,” I say through a pant.
I force myself to stay still as he starts to play again. He stands directly behind me, feet bracketing my calves. He runs his hands down my ass and grips the skin, hard then soft. I don’t know what he’s doing, but playing feels like the right word.
His finger runs between my ass cheeks, and he pulls my thong repeatedly. I bite my lower lip, and I don’t doubt he can see how turned on this is making me.
But he never touches my pussy or my asshole, a place I can’t stop wishing he’d touch and play with. It’s a thought I never expected to have since I didn’t consider myself someone who enjoyed anal play. But with Dane, I want to give him everything.
“Did you wear these for me?” Dane’s rumbling voice asks as he tugs on the thong.
“Yes, Sir. I wore everything for you.”
“Hmm, as you should.” He pulls again on the thong, holding it tight against my clit. I whimper, expecting him to drop the fabric. Instead, he continues the pressure against my heated sex. The contact feels amazing, but the lack of movement is driving me wild.
“Sir.” My voice is pleading. “Please, Sir. I need to come.”
The warm, rumbling laugh that leaves his chest is dark and deep. It floods my pussy with more arousal, and my need for him only grows.
“I bet you do.” He tugs harder on the thong to the point where I hear the rip of the seams. I didn’t know that sound could be a turn-on, but I want to hear it again.
“Sir.” I barely stop myself from moving my hips to create friction.
“Yes, baby?” he asks playfully. The bastard.
“Please.”
He has mercy on me and releases the fabric. I exhale in both relief and annoyance. I wanted to come, not for him to stop. Another slap echoes, and my ass shakes from the force of his hands coming down simultaneously on each cheek.
My cry is loud, and my nipples tighten. He does it again, then one more time before his hand gently soothes my sensitive skin. My fingers dig into the wood of the floor, my breaths short.
“You’re sexy like this.” Dane’s voice cuts through the sensations and feelings I’m experiencing: pain, pleasure, humiliation, and desperate need.
He gently strokes the skin of my ass. “You’re mine to play with, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He strokes the skin again before he says, “And mine to punish.” His hand comes down once more on my ass before he hums. “And mine to do with as I wish. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He hums again, his touch leaving my body as he steps back.
His footsteps are brief as he comes to stand in front of me, and his fingers grasp and lift my chin so I can see his eyes.
He’s smiling down at me with a look I can only describe as adoration mixed with a hint of mischief on his handsome features.
“Did you know I could train you to stay in this position? I’d have you stay on all fours and connect the leash to the bedpost. Then I’d put a vibrator inside the pretty cunt that belongs to me—and one in that sweet ass, too.
If I wanted, I’d leave the cabin and edge you for hours while I work outside or even drive into town.
You’d turn into a sobbing mess until you’d be crying out for me to give you what you need.
And you’d do it to please me, wouldn’t you, baby? ”
I swallow but answer without hesitation. “I would, Sir.”
He strokes my cheek then traces the curves of my lips. “Thought so.”
My lips turn up in a smile at his familiar, cocky ease, and he smiles back at me. He strokes my lips again, the tip of his finger slipping in before he abruptly pulls back and stands to his full height.
“Strip. You have fifteen seconds.”
His eyebrow cocks when I don’t move.
“Starting now.”