The Collar

Sandra took another deep breath to clear her mind and cement her resolve. Placing her hands on the floor in front of her, she began the very short crawl that would bring her next to His chair. It was only a couple of feet and almost not even worth the thought that had gone into it. She frowned as she realized that it almost felt good; sexy somehow to crawl on hands and knees before this man.

The moment she was beside Him, He placed His fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to stare up at Him. "My very good girl. I am so proud of you." He dragged in a deep breath this time, "I know how hard that was for you, my love." She followed His eyes and saw a long black velvet box suddenly lying on the table. "But I needed to know how deep your surrender to me goes, Sandra."

Her heart raced. Her mind filled with numerous possibilities. He knew that she no longer believed in marriage. Besides the box was the wrong shape for a ring. A bracelet perhaps? It was Valentine's Day after all. Lovers exchanged gifts. Why did she think that her careful planning for this special night would not be reciprocated?

His fingers brushed across her cheek tenderly. Then He picked up the box and popped open the lid. The tiny creak of its hinges seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. Inside was a simple silver chain from which hung a tiny lock. Her throat tightened reflexively. She knew instantly what this was. A collar. No, her collar. If she chose to accept it.

She looked up into His eyes. His expression was intensely serious, so different from the gentle lover or teasing that she was accustomed to. Different too from the Dominant and sadist that gave her that which no other ever could. This man wore His vulnerability like a proud crest upon his tabard. There was no doubt.

She smiled up at Him. It was the only answer He needed. His fingers trembled as He took the frail chain from the box. She leaned closer as He wrapped it about her neck. She shivered as His fingers brushed her neck when the clasp fell into place.

She had difficulty seeing when she leaned back on to her feet. Her throat was so tight that she could barely breathe; let alone speak. Her heart had not slowed even a little bit. They both knew what this meant. It was another way that they were a perfect match. These were so much more than simple games to either of them. It was simply who they were. His need to Dominate was the perfect Ying to her need for submission, her yang. And this only cemented that bond, deepened the love they shared.

She reached up and curled her fingers about the tiny lock. She could almost feel a spark of something metaphysical race up her fingers. As if accepting this trinket truly locked her heart forever in His care. Her voice cracked and tears escaped the corners of her eyes as she whispered, "You're stuck with me now. Only way you get this back is to pry it from my cold dead hands."

***

Zane Reynolds stared out at the pounding waves of the Pacific Ocean. He inhaled the deep rich aroma of the sea breeze. It reminded him of that night.

He had never seen a more beautiful woman than the one that knelt before Him then. Yes, She was neither youthful nor anorexic. The tiny lines about Her sparkling eyes were a testament to the life and experience that made Her so interesting. Her mind the quickest and brightest of any woman He had ever known. And the scars that She wore upon Her body were only a testament to Her strength.

That such an intelligent and strong creature should choose to kneel before him was the most humbling moment of his life. To see Her crawl, an act of submission that he knew was the most difficult he had ever asked of Her had taken his breath away.

His gut had tightened at Her words that night. But he had little time to think upon why that was. She was like a little girl then, "The night has just begun, Sir." She had purred as She took his hand in Hers. She had risen and led him into Her bedroom. It was not the first time. They had spent so many precious moments here over the months. But the soft glow of candles made the slightly shabby room almost ethereal.

She had knelt on the edge of the bed and gathered his hands in Hers. She had brought them slowly to Her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He could tell She was nervous. It made her next words all the more special.

"When I tried to think of something to get you for Valentine's, I could not think of anything. Floggers, whips, paddles all seemed so common. I wanted to give you something truly special. Something no one else ever could." Her cheeks glowed so brightly that he could see the rising color even in the dim candle light as she stammered. "The only thing I could think of to give you was me," she dropped her eyes and the glow deepened even more.

She let go of his hands and turned, reaching beneath the pillow, she had drawn forth a small bottle with a red ribbon around the cap. She had bitten her bottom lip so cutely. Her voice was barely a whisper as She placed it in the palm of his hand. 'Booty butter' it read. His heart had gone into overdrive at those words.

It was something they had discussed several times. He knew that her one experience with anal sex had not gone well. A selfish boyfriend in college. Drunken and greedy. It had been little more than rape in the end. The fact that She would trust him like this made the night even more perfect than it already was.

He lifted Her face to his. Her eyes could never lie, "Are you sure, Sandra?"

She nodded, "Yes, very," She whispered as Her fingers grasped Her collar.

"All right then, lay back on the bed. Eyes closed and arms above your head. Honor bondage, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied as she turned to face away and lie face down on the bed.

"Not yet, my love. Roll ever," he had demanded. She had looked a bit puzzled at the command but her obedience was instant. "Spread your legs." She had blushed again as She silently complied. "Too bad I didn't bring the spreader bars, you little cunt. Wider," he had punctuated his demands with a hard slap to her outer thighs. She opened Herself even more to him. "Good girl."

His hand had come down hard once more. The sound echoed off the walls of the tiny room. Followed quickly by Her startled cry that was half pain and all pleasure as his palm connected with Her mound. She had jumped a bit at the impact, "Be still or I will tie you down." He had repeated the process, landing a dozen or so hard spanks upon her open cunt until it glistened scarlet and wet before him.

It was a temptation he could not resist. Kneeling before Her at the edge of the bed, he had dove into Her succulent offering. His tongue quickly found Her hard clitoris standing like a good soldier at full attention. He held it between his teeth as his tongue encircled it over and over again. He could tell that She was right on the edge of a powerful orgasm, but he was not ready. "Not yet, you greedy cunt," he commanded as he released her clit and blow across it.

Her knuckles went white as She clutched the headboard. His tongue stabbed Her wet cunt like a spear, plunging over and over and over into the soft, supple flesh. Her moans rose in his ears like a church choir singing the Easter cantata. But still he refused to allow her release. He teased and tortured her for several impossibly long minutes until Her juices ran like an underground pool bubbling to the surface. He drank from the refreshing spring, lapped from Her well. She was exactly as he loved her best wet, needy and open to him. At his mercy....except this night he had none.

He pushed Her higher until Her fingers released the headboard, "Bad girl," he said as he slapped the side of her thigh with his open palm and bit down on Her swollen clitoris with his teeth.

She arched off the bed. Screaming, "Please, Sir!"

He smiled around Her clit and toyed with it, rolling it between his teeth while his tongue licked over it once more. He released it suddenly, "Please what, you dirty whore?"

"Please, Sir, I need to come," She breathed and panted as she fought to control Her body.

"No," he replied. "You promised me a Valentine's present, remember?" he watched as Her face crinkled up in that funny way he loved so much. It meant that he had taken Her to the place where Her beautifully brilliant brain no longer functioned. He stabbed Her asshole with his finger and those magnificently expressive eyes widened with recognition.

"Yes, Sir," She whispered breathlessly as she writhed on his finger. Her juices and his saliva were more than sufficient as he began slowly preparing her. He used just the one finger to stretch and finger Her ass for a couple of moments.

He reached across the bed to where She had left the 'booty butter' when they came in the room. He chuckled at the ridiculous name as he unscrewed the cap. He gathered a generous portion and began the task of patiently working the thick cream into Her tight muscles. This time he added a second finger as he began the teasing process again.

"Have you worn your plug to work this week like a good girl?" he asked. He smiled as She nodded. The idea of his obedient submissive dressed in Her flowing hippy style skirts without panties holding the butt plug in for nine hours had him rock hard. He attempted a third finger. It was a tight squeeze but he managed it in the end with the help of another dollop of booty butter.

Thanks to the plug. They had been working on anal training for weeks. Rimming, fingering and for the past couple of weeks plugs. He had bought Her a set of three progressive larger ones. That first night he had barely been able to insert the smallest, which was only slightly larger than his finger. That was because of Her conditioned response to anticipate pain. She would automatically tighten Her muscles rather than relax them whenever anything came near Her ass. But they were working on that. And from the way Her ass was feeling at that moment, they were making some real progress.

"I am so proud of you," he knew the power of those words and was rewarded instantly with the relaxing of her whole body. His fingers slipped fully inside then. "Good girl."

He reached for a couple of the pillows at the head of the bed. He gently rolled her onto Her side, lifting Her top leg and bending it slightly. He placed the pillows under Her knee. He grabbed the jar of lubricant and took a generous portion into the palm of his hands.

He watched Her turn Her head, looking at his every move as he stroked his throbbing erection. He smiled at Her, remembering all the times that they had enjoyed mutual masturbation and the hundreds of nights they had fallen asleep to hot phone sex when they could not be together like this.

He moved slowly, lying next to Her on the bed. He felt Her tense just a bit as he came up behind Her, aligning his body fully with Hers. Rather than dive in foolishly like that other greedy bastard, he took his time. He ran his fingers softly up and down Her arms while he tenderly kissed Her neck and shoulders. He licked at Her pulse beating solidly in the side of Her neck.

He distracted Her too. His hand came up to toy with Her breasts that were practically popping out of the top of the corset. As She always did, She drew back at his first touch. "My beautiful girl," he whispered into Her ear as his fingers slipped the stiff material down. He pinched and teased Her nipples until they stood at full attention.

But he was rewarded with the most precious gift of all...Her soft moans as she rubbed Herself against his hard cock. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged as he tweaked and pulled on them some more. He felt the head of his cock fall into place, aligned perfectly with Her asshole.

He licked Her ear as he rolled Her nipples between his fingertips. She moaned and pushed back against him. His cock slipped inside. He heard the soft intake of breath and felt Her muscles tighten around it. He bit her ear lobe and pinched her nipples. She cried out at the new sensations, but She relaxed enough that almost an inch more slid home.

He held perfectly still as one hand played with her tits for a couple of minutes, pinching, pulling and rolling her nipples. His other hand shifted slowly until it was once more between Her legs. His fingers slipped between the folds and found the still throbbing little button. He stroked it softly and She arched up to meet the caress. His cock retreated from Her tight ass until only the head was inside, but when She moved back against him another inch and a half buried itself inside Her.

She was panting and moving Her round bottom in time with the lazy circles that he was drawing on Her clitoris. It was hell, torture and as close to heaven as he was likely to come. Her slow circles sucked and pulled his cock further and further into Her intensely hot and tight ass as he kept pushing Her higher and higher, closer to the release that he had denied her earlier.

He arched up just a fraction of an inch, but it was the first movement he had made at all. "What a dirty little whore you are. Fucking my cock with your tight ass just like the slut you are." He felt Her tighten again at the movement and his bold words but he would not allow Her to go back now. His fingers played across Her clit with just the right pressure and rhythm that he had learned would always bring Her off quickly. "Come for me, my dirty little whore," he programmed her body like he would a computer.

She arched up until he almost slipped out completely. He cursed but managed to keep the head of his cock just inside. Then She slammed back against him fully as the orgasm hit Her fully. She cried out with the intensity of the feeling as Her body clinched and clutched around his. He was buried completely inside of Her now.

He fought the need to take Her like a bull elephant in heat. There would be time for that later. They had the rest of their lives. But this time, he wanted Her brain to register pleasure, to reprogram itself as it were. Instead he began to rock saw very slowly back and forth in time with Her own movements. But even that was intense. He felt his own body crying out for release.

The greedy part of him cried out 'no.' He wanted this moment to last forever. The feel of Her too tight sphincter spasming around his throbbing cock was like no other he had ever felt. It was perfection.

But the sane and considerate lover knew that her tender ass could not take 'forever' especially this first time. So he did what he rarely did...allowing his steel control to slip, giving over fully to the needs of his flesh. He felt the release begin at the base of his spine, racing to his toes and curling them at the same time it exploded through his addled brain. He did arch up then to meet Her backwards thrust. His cock buried deeper in Her ass than he would have thought possible as his come shot out to fill it. It seemed to go on endlessly...he certainly did not care if it lasted a lifetime.

They drifted slowly back to reality with Her cocooned safely in his arms. His cock began to soften still locked inside of Her bowels. He kissed the side of Her cheek and whispered, "Thank you, my love. That was the best Valentine's present ever."

She turned slightly. They both moaned a bit as his cock popped wetly from Her ass. She kissed him softly, "No. Thank you, Sir." He could see the tears gathering in Her eyes and hear the crack in Her voice as She spoke, "For everything."

He had been uncomfortable then. Shocked at all that he saw in those eyes. He was not worthy of that kind of trust. No one was really. He kissed Her nose and made a lame excuse, "I'll be right back."

He had rushed to hide in the bathroom. He turned the tap on and waited for the water to get hot. He reached for the wash clothes. How comfortable he had become in Her home? He knew exactly where everything was kept. Exactly how She liked Her coffee. Her favorite music. Her insecurities. Her worries. Her joys. She was an open book...his to read at any time.

And to a degree, She knew him as well. She had spent a few nights at his apartment. She would have known where to find the towels. But he could not fight the feeling that he kept some things hidden from Her. This amazing, awe-inspiring creature that gave so fully of Herself. And what did he really have to offer her?

The water was hot now as he studied the man in the mirror. He wet the wash cloth mindlessly burning his fingers. But even the water was not as hot as Her ass had been. Her gift, it seemed, had bored a hole right into the depths of his soul. He wrung the cloth out and gave that man a final glance. He had some serious thinking to do...later.

He plastered a casual smile onto his face as he joined her in the bedroom. She was still curled on her side. Her knee was bent just as he had arranged it earlier as if She could not move without his permission somehow. But her hands were tucked under her face, clutching the other pillow. Her breathing was shallow and even. Those eyes that had done such damage to his soul were closed now.

He did not want to disturb her, but he needed to see to Her needs, clean Her body that she gave so freely. That he would never deserve. He washed her carefully. She smiled and whispered, "Thank you," once more. Then he washed himself before tossing the cloth into the hamper.

His mind was a complete jumble as he crawled into bed with Her. He wrapped his body about Her, spooning Her then. The same position that they had taken earlier, but for decidedly different purposes. He held Her and just listened to Her breathe. He tried for a long time to make sense of it...any of it. But he failed.

He kissed her cheek as she slept and whispered, "I love you." They were words that did not come easy to him. He was not sure that he would ever find the courage to same them looking into those eyes that saw more of his dark soul than he wanted to admit, far more than he probably did. But they were true nonetheless. And that was as close as he was going to get to answers this night. As he gave into the exhaustion and the complete satisfaction of his body.

***

Tears clouded Zane's eyes now as he stared out at the ocean She had loved so much. Dozens of people milled about him but he knew next to none of them.

The tears trickled down his cheek as he remembered his arrogance that night. 'The rest of their lives.' He had not known then just how short that could be. Would be. But then again how could he see the golf ball size tumor that boring into her magnificent brain? How could he know that just a couple of days later she would collapse in a seizure at the book store?

Tests. So many damned tests. What was left of Her gorgeous hair after the chemo and radiation had to be shaved as they cut into her skull to try and save her life. It never had managed to grow back.

He shook his head. If he had known? Would he have told her that night? Woken her up and looked into her eyes as he spoke those words into her soul? Would it have made a difference?

He felt a hand upon his shoulder and turned to see a young man he recognized from photographs she displayed around her apartment.

"Excuse me, but you are Zane Reynolds, are you not?"

Zane nodded a bit shocked that he would know how he was, "Yes."

The young man held out the silver locket that he had given her that night. "She would have wanted you to have this back. We would have buried her with it but since she wanted to be cremated..." His words trailed off awkwardly.

Zane took the piece of jewelry. Just as he had been that night, he did not know what to say. Did Her son know what this was? What it truly meant? Did he know about their little games? Of course, none of that mattered now.

"Thank you. I know you made my mother very happy. Especially those last few months," he said as he held out his hand.