Denmark

"Oh thank you for coming back for me Mistress! I love you Mistress! I am so utterly dependent on you Mistress! Thank you for all that you do for me Mistress!"

I could hear her practically giddy smile in her voice. "You are such a delightful bitch. I loved doing that. I was just sitting over there, texting and watching you. I like knowing you will wait for me, when I want, for as long as I want."

"Oh absolutely Mistress! I am always eager to serve you as you wish Mistress!" I was keenly aware I was still grasping the pole; Janice might decide to leave me there for longer. Thankfully, she took that moment for pity on her little nothing to guide my hand back onto her elbow.

We chatted as Mistress strode through town. Her voice seemed cheerful and proud. I was thrilled to be her leash candy, an accessory to be admired like a nice purse. All that I had to do was to serve and please her. I had to primarily focus on her right elbow. The location of her right elbow had become my world; I must focus on that or become eternally lost in this darkness.

We walked on for what seemed to be a long time. Mistress stopped, took out keys, and opened the door. We were home!

Janice took off my sunglasses and peeled the tape from my eyes. I saw her face, radiant and beaming as she proudly looked at me. "You are such a sweet bitch! I truly love owning you! I feel so lucky to have you! Thank you for coming to Denmark!"

I stood there, stunned. As many times as Mistress relates her feelings, I am always surprised she needs me as much as I need her. I craved her so deeply. How could anyone so wonderful need someone like me? As many times as she explained it, the concept didn't sink into my head. Picturing a slave with a collar and leash without anyone to hold the other end is profoundly sad and pitiful. Is a Mistress holding a leash connected to nothing any better?

A few hours later, there was a knock on the door. Mistress bade me answer it, so I opened the door. There was a woman dressed in black, and she seemed a bit surprised to see me. She said something in Danish. I understood only one thing -- "Janice." I covered up my total lack of comprehension with a pleasant smile and waved for her to enter.

Janice and the woman spoke for a minute or two. The woman asked me something in Danish. Mistress helpfully translated; "She asked what happened to your neck."

I gathered a deep breath as I got ready to recite the practiced story about slipping on stairs trying to avoid a cat. Then Mistress added "And admit the truth."

I gulped nervously and stammered. "This...um...This is my slave collar. I wear it because I am the property of Mistress Janice."

The woman looked at me dismissively. I think it was more that I couldn't be bothered to speak Danish, perhaps a bit that I was only a slave. She turned back to Mistress Janice and pointedly continued speaking in Danish, keeping me out of further conversation. I timidly sank to my knees. Kneeling seemed to be the only proper response.

Janice and her visitor slowly strolled to the couch. The guest expectantly instructed in English "Get me a mimosa, champagne and orange juice." She gave me a flippant hand gesture to dispatch me on my way. I hesitated for a minute. She isn't my owner! I looked at Mistress.

Mistress looked back at me, amused, and clearly interested in what I would do. Would I serve others? I paused, but realized waiting on Janice's guest was also serving her interests. I timidly went and made her drink, delivering it to her on the couch.

The guest lounged with her legs resting up on the ottoman. Mistress pointed to the carpet in front of her. "On your hands and knees Bitch."

Needless to say, I promptly complied. I felt Mistress propped one foot up on the small of my back and the other foot on the rear chest portion of the brace. I was her footstool. One foot pressed down on my brace. It re-enforced her ownership of me in a most delightful way. I felt like her most prized possession. I enjoyed the nylons on her other leg resting on the small of my back. That felt more like love. I treasured the feel of her feet on me.

The TV went on as background as Janice and the other woman talked. The show was in Danish as was the conversation. It was humbling having to wait, truly being unable to speak or understand anything until they decided to include me. I was only Mistress' footstool. My vision was limited to the carpet, but my mind was focused on her feet on my back. Even Janice's idle twirling and stretching her feet was erotic as I supported them on my back.

I felt honored; it was a compliment that I behaved well enough that Mistress would reveal me to a friend. Perhaps she was merely testing how I react. I had no way to be sure, but it was a tremendous sign.

After about half an hour of speaking in Danish, Janice switched to English. Clearly I was supposed to understand what she said. "Anja and I have been discussing your 'doctor's appointment' in six weeks." It delighted me they were talking about me despite me not understanding a word that was being said. They could turn my comprehension on and off at will. Mistress continued. "We would be thrilled to read your post that your doctor's appointment didn't go well. We would love to hear you'll need to spend ANOTHER 6 weeks in the slave collar."

The thought inspired me. Not only due to more control from Mistress, but it would please her that I would be wearing the collar. I eagerly responded, "Yes Mistress. Thank you for allowing me to wear your collar for another 6 weeks Mistress." Their conversation reverted back to Danish. My thoughts were filled with visions of meeting friends, family and co-workers, wearing this controlling collar. All the while I would know what it signified; I was her owned slave. I felt so controlled, submissive and loved. I was grateful to be given a name to remember the guest by; she is Anja.

Janice and Anja spent quite some time chatting. Finally, Mistress withdrew her feet from my back, and Anja stood up to go. Mistress commanded me "Kiss her feet farewell Bitch."

I crawled over and started kissing her feet. It was utterly degrading and compliant, but wonderfully erotic. I found myself getting turned on by having to kiss her feet. I caressed them; I wanted to delight Anja and thus properly serve Mistress Janice. The tone of the conversation seemed amused, so I continued for a few minutes, getting more and more into it. Mistress said I could stop, and Anja strode out.

Mistress grabbed the leash and clipped it onto my neck brace. I smiled. To me it was a sign of care and ownership. To her it seemed to represent the freedom to be herself, to actually do what she had been wanting to for years. It was not only erotic but heartwarming to see it and allow it to happen.

Janice preceded me to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her face betrayed a hint of nervousness. "Have you ever licked a woman before?"

"No Mistress. In fact, I never really thought about it, but I deeply want to satisfy you Mistress. I want to make you thrilled to own me Mistress."

"Well, as this is your first time, I will help out." She leaned over and picked up my cuffs. I smiled and offered my hands out. I enjoyed her wrapping the cuffs around my wrists, buckling my wrists into their fur lined embrace. She guided my hands behind me and clipped them together.

She grabbed a firm grip at the base of my ponytail, and gently pulled me closer. I never did anything like this before, but now I had no choice. I was not only going to be kissing another woman, I would be licking her pussy, like it or not! Oddly enough, I felt better being forced to have my face in her crotch. I loved feeling her hand guiding my head where she wanted it. I opened up my mouth, and started licking lightly, teasing the petals to open. All of my attention was exclusively devoted to her crotch. I couldn't see anything else; I was just a mouth to be used like her living vibrator. It was exhilarating to be used this way! I licked on, enjoying the feel of her pussy. Mistress forced my head in a bit more, so I started licking harder and faster. I was rewarded with a more pungent smell and taste. She was getting wet! It felt like a compliment and spurred me to lick all the more, up and down, pressing deeply on her delightful little nub.

Mistress started shaking, which rubbed my face up and down her dripping pussy, smearing her juices all over my face. With one final screaming grunt, she came in a beautiful orgasm. She let go of my hair, and I smiled. I made her come! I was such a thrill to be able to serve her that way.

I knelt up, and she pulled me up to cuddle with her post-orgasmic bliss.

The subsequent days flew by all too quickly as we got to appreciate each other in a way that you just can't do remotely. We were intimate both as a couple and as owner/slave. It was now our last night together and already time to get ready for bed. Where did all the time go?

Mistress gently nudged me back, guiding me to lay down on her modest sized bed, making sure I was centered. I felt honored to be allowed to lounge there. After sleeping in a cage for the previous two weeks, I felt oddly strange to be laying in bed without bars around me. Mistress wrapped a cuff around my left wrist, and pulled it to the upper corner of the bed. She secured it in place. I grinned as I started feeling more at home on her bed. Mistress continued around the bed. She cuffed my other wrist, stretching it to that upper corner. I tugged lightly on the cuff, smiling as it held firm. The restriction made me all the more eager and excited, wondering what might be in store, and having lost any choice long ago.

Janice then cuffed my ankles, pulling them firmly to the lower corners of the bed. I felt taut and stretched. Mistress looked down at me, clearly pleased seeing me far more helpless than I was a few minutes ago. I was at her mercy, and we were both excited by it.

Mistress got up on the bed, towering over me despite being on her knees. She looked down at me and smiled. Seeing her in that position made me ever more aware that her neck was able to move freely. It contrasted with my neck, firmly encased in her controlling collar.

She slowly and deliberately turned around to face the foot of the bed, taking her time and enjoying her power over me. She hooked her feet over my shoulders and slowly started to kneel lower. Her pussy neared my mouth, and I opened wide to accept it. Janice lined up right where she wanted, and knelt down, forcing it into my mouth. I eagerly started licking. All that I could see was her ass looming up in front of my eyes. I flicked my tongue back and forth. Her taste was on my tongue and soon filled my mouth. I lapped it up eagerly, knowing the more I moved, the happier she would be.

After a few minutes, she started to squirm on my mouth, writhing in excitement. I could hear her breathing start to get more intense as her hormones perked up. I took it as a compliment and licked all the more.

In a twisted way, it was a turn on to be reduced to being only a mouth to serve her. I couldn't move my arms or legs. My head was fixed in position, and her pussy was pressing down firmly into it. All I could see was her ass. I was exactly where I should be -- serving her.

Mistress Janice started to grind more onto my mouth. I followed her tender clit, seeking it out with my tongue.

*Smack!* I cried out as something suddenly stung my exposed pussy. Mistress moaned in excitement at my sudden squeal into her crotch. She called out in a deep sultry voice "Oh yes! Keep licking bitch!"

*Smack!* I yelped again as she slapped my clit. Instinctively, I tried closing my spread legs and curling up to protect myself. The ankle cuffs kept my legs firmly in place. I tried covering up my aching cunt with my hands, but they were secured far away from anywhere useful.

I squirmed, pulling at the cuffs. My utter helplessness and vulnerability excited me. It made me want my twat to be rubbed all the more.

Given Janice's reaction, my restricted struggles only excited her all the more. She seemed to revel in grinding her pussy into my mouth. I licked feverishly in a desperately desire to serve Mistress. I realized that the faster I enticed her to an orgasm, the less smacks I would have to endure. In a twisted way, it was a win-win. She got an orgasm, and I pleased her the way she wanted.

It felt fitting to be forced to lick her. I was truly reduced to just a tongue and an aching crotch for Mistress' pleasure. Tugging on the cuffs and feeling them firmly held in place excited me. I loved the helplessness, my absolute inability to lessen my exposed crotch. The pose made it practically begging to be smacked again.

*Smack!* I cried out again in a mixture of pain and surprise. My hands tried yanking downward, but to no avail. Mistress Janice moaned and squirmed and started rhythmically humping my face. The more wild she got, the more I was encouraged to follow that dancing clit with my tongue. She ground her crotch into my face, smearing it with a mixture of saliva and her juices. I helplessly took it all, feeling her erotic wetness covering my jaw and my cheeks. Her thrashing filled my mouth and shoved her smell deep up my nose. I was helplessly filled with her scent, and getting even more covered in her pungent juices.

My entire focus was my tongue, getting that delightful little nub. I was desperate to follow it wherever it went. I was desperate to thrill her. I could tell she was getting close.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!* I squealed loudly as three quick and hard smacks fell right on my exposed clit. My cries thrust her over the edge as she burst into a frantic orgasm, her juices gushing all over my face.

Janice was exhausted as she stumbled off of me. She looked me in the eye and smiled. Janice murmured, "You are such a delight, you little bitch. How do you feel?"

My mind was a swirling cauldron of feelings, so I took a moment to organize my words. Her calling me a little bitch would usually be an insult, but it was a compliment in this case. I felt treasured. "Mentally, I am quite eager; your display was quite a turn-on. But physically, my pussy stings from the slaps Mistress!"

Mistress smiled all the more. "Oh how perfect! I love having you turned on, yet unable to reach orgasm! You enjoyed the crop then?" She showed me an implement with a handle, leading to a spring-like rod with a flat paddle like tip on the end. She answered for me before my mind formed a response. "Of course you do! Show me how much by kissing the crop that whacked your tender cunt!"

She placed the crop to my lips, and I started kissing it. I felt turned on by being forced to appreciate what she used to torment me. The smell of my crotch on the crop barely made it through her pungent musk. My kisses swelled into a passionate make-out session in a swirling haze of slavish obedience and humiliation.

Mistress chuckled. "You are such a sweet and compliant bitch. But it's time to get some sleep. She sleepily unclipped my wrists and ankles, then got under her covers. Janice watched me, her eyes struggling to stay open. She was clearly waiting for the show of my undressing.

I took this as a compliment and put on a show as I changed. Mistress' sleepy smile was all that I needed to know I did a good job. I crawled into my bed, getting a secret thrill as I heard the cage door clang shut and lock behind me. Mistress flipped down some flaps over one side of the cage bars. The other side followed right after. It got very dark. She covered up the foot of the bed, and I was in total darkness. I literally could not see my hand in front of my face.

I laid there, reviewing what happened in my mind. Visions of her ass, and her pussy grinding onto my face filled my thoughts. I slid into a blissful, contented sleep.

The next morning over breakfast, I could tell she was deep in thought. She looked at me pensively and mused "This is our final breakfast together. I know your flight back to Canada is this evening. I won't force you do this, but I hope you consider the request. How do you feel about immigrating to Denmark?"

I was silent for a few moments as I considered it. This would mean a fresh start, no worrying about Kevin or his friends. No baggage or reminders. I started relishing the idea. Mistress continued her musings. "This will mean you will need to learn Danish. And you'll be spending even more time in my collar..." Janice's hopeful smile dominated her face.

I thought Janice would be amused if I begged. "Mistress? May I please be your permanent live-in slave? I would love moving in with you Mistress! To be able to live this lifestyle would be so sweet Mistress!" The more I begged, the more I was inspired. I was no longer feigning my desperation.

Janice looked down at me, grinning ear to ear, overjoyed to hear my plea. She screamed, "Yes! Yes, you can!" She wrapped her arms around me in a passionate hug, holding me close as she nuzzled right into me.

Janice hastily pulled out a laptop and brought up the immigration website before I might change my mind. The process was remarkably quick. One hour later, I was set to immigrate to Denmark. Janice allowed me two months in Canada to get my affairs in order, knowing I would live like a slave the rest of my life.

There were some immigration rules. I would need to learn Danish and be employed. Mistress said she would employ me in the call center that she runs. She would be my boss 24/7, both at home and at work. I would be used how and when she wanted. My eyes sparkled at the idea. I would be completely owned and controlled. I submissively murmured my agreement, as if I had a choice. As my sponsor and my employer, she would have control over my housing, employment and immigration status. She would be free to do as she wished with me. That concept thrilled her. I was scared to admit it to myself, but I was getting excited in a submissive kind of way by it too. Mistress had the power to make me unemployed, homeless, and deported at her whim. I was wholly dependent on her, and intoxicated by the prospect.

I realized the two-month timing meant that I would need to post that the doctor's visit did not go well. I would need to publicly post that I would stay in the collar, and everyone would police my behavior; ensuring I complied. However, I would not actually ever get out of the collar; my days of freedom were already over.

After returning to Canada, the next weeks were a whirlwind of selling, donating and giving away most of my worldy possessions. In a way, I was shedding my former life for an improved one with Janice.

I took plenty of group selfies. I snapped them for two compelling reasons. I wanted to have visuals for memories once I had moved to Denmark; I may not see these people and places again. I also got a secret thrill from showing Janice that I wasremained a compliant bitch. Even though we were so distant, I wore her slave collar everywhere. My friends and family called me brave and inspiring. I felt more like an obedient, submissive playtoy.

Six weeks in, I crafted a post that I went to my doctor. I duly reported my healing was not going to plan and that I had to keep wearing the brace. The public post seemed to amuse Mistress, which made all the hardship that I endured worth it. I was already getting used to wearing the restrictive collar everywhere; even the stares it drew from passerby seemed more normal.

I flew back to Denmark, permanently immigrating to my new land. Mistress was right in front of the crowd at the airport, ready to greet me. She smiled warmly. "I missed you dearly you delicious bitch." She took out her leash and snapped it onto my collar, right in the middle of the airport. At that moment, Janice boldly came out of the closet to the public for her true self. Mistress Janice was a dominant lesbian and had stopped feigning being someone else just to conform. It was inspirational to see. I would have enjoyed savoring the moment, but a sharp tug on the leash jerked me toward the baggage claim.