A Way Out

"The collar comes off when I say it does," intoned the black leather-clad man.

Faith gazed at the table. There sat the artifacts of her life as a free woman, her clothing neatly folded, her purse, her cellphone, and, most achingly of all, her wedding and engagement rings.

The man whom the woman knew she would have to address as "Master" from here on out, began boxing up her effects. He stuck a shipping label addressed to her husband on the surprisingly small container. The collared woman hoped Daniel would understand. She hoped that whenever this man chose to free her, that Daniel would be waiting for her. If he did not ... well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Now it is time for your bath, slave," the Master intoned. "You may have noticed that I have stopped using your name. That is because you no longer have one. I'll pick out something suitable in the next few days, until that time, slave will suffice. After your bath, I'll be taking your bush as well as giving you a haircut. My will is now your will."

The woman nodded.

The bath was surprisingly relaxing given how nervous the slim dark-haired woman was. The Master's hands were strong yet gentle, he soaped and washed her carefully, almost delicately. When he razored away her ebony intimate triangle, she felt only the insistent pull of the blade. He flawlessly rendered her as smooth as a newborn. Daniel had begged to shave her so many times, but each time she had turned him down. Now, she wished she could roll back time and give her husband this. Would he understand? Would he agree with her solution to their crushing debts? Their future was bleak without some infusion of cash. Was his love encompassing enough to overlook the time she spent at the beck and call of another man? She was sure he could. Even if he could not, this act had given him the funds to steer his life to a path of comfort and prosperity. Even if she killed what they had, she had at least set him on a life raft before the vessel sank.

She was dry now. She bit her lower lip as Master trimmed her shoulder-length jet black hair into a pixie cut. How Daniel had adored her hair! She saw the ebony pile at her bare ankles and reminded herself that it would grow back. He brushed every fallen follicle from her body and had her rise from the chair. She followed him to the next room. It was large with a huge bed. Sharp pointy things, flails, dildoes, and butt plugs lined the walls. There was a satin pillow on the floor. She understood. The Master made a gesture. She was on her knees upon the pillow. After a long, poignant pause, her hands were on the fly of his leather pants. His very large masculine bulge stood in dramatic outline. And then it was free, the longest and girthiest penis the woman had ever seen. Not for the first time, she wondered if she was committing the greatest mistake of her life. She shook off her doubts as best she could and began exploring the erect manhood with her tongue and lips, careful to avoid her teeth. So much of her immediate future depended upon this first impression. The faster she took to training, the sooner her collar would come off. Only the Master could and would determine the state of her progress. Despite her lack of say in the matter, she implicitly trusted the Master, otherwise, she would not be here.

She took all of him in, fighting her gag reflex. Back and forth slid her lovely face. She gazed into the Master's eyes. They were green, like a cat. The hardness that was in them earlier was softening. He began to emit sounds of pleasure that were surprisingly gentle for such a big man. He grasped the back of her head and came in torrents all over the back of her throat. The young woman in the collar choked it all down. As he softened within her, she drew her head backward and displayed her opened mouth for his inspection. There was brightness now in those luminous green orbs. His face lit up with a smile. The collared woman thought that smile quite attractive.

"Keep that up, slave and you'll be back to your husband in no time!" he gushed.