Bondage Collar Story

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Bondage Collar Story


Rachel sat alone in front of the keyboard, staring.



She knew something had
changed, but would not admit just what. As she opened her e-mail once again,
her heart jumped as she saw a reply from Him. Just knowing He was there made
her feel wonderful.



She had fought hard, even admirably, but she never had a
chance. He owned her even from the beginning, and she knew it. She had never
felt quite like this before, and she knew she might never feel this way
again.



Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and she opened it to see the uniform of
a UPS Driver. She signed for the package, and went back inside. The return
address was from New York, and she drew in a breath. How did He know? Was it
He?



As she opened the box, she thought of how she had told Him that He did
not have control of her. She did not see Him smiling so far away. He knew
she was already His property, and would soon become His slave. She opened
the package slowly, it was shiny metal, and it was something she had never
seen before. A stainless steel collar! It was quite beautiful, and
apparently it now belonged to her.



She thought of Him, and hesitated before
trying it on. This felt so strange to her, she thought, and placed the
collar around her neck. As she closed it, she heard a faint "click". It was
over, somehow, it had locked on, and she struggled for an hour to remove it.
She could not; she was securely locked in.



Her mind was in a panic, as she
thought what to do. Her family, friends, they would see her like this. As
she stared at it, she felt good inside, somehow protected, safe. Yet she HAD
to get it off. How, she thought, was the question?



The next day, rachel
visited a local locksmith, who tried without luck to pick the lock. Sorry,
Miss, this lock is not pickable, it is too well made. She reached up to
touch it again, and she heard the man comment that it was too thick and
tight to be cut off without hurting her.



When it hit her that she was
trapped in the collar, rachel immediately soaked herself, and left the
store. The ride home was erotic, she could not keep her fingers off the
collar, and the thought of being trapped in it was both terrifying and
immensely pleasurable. It did not matter, she thought to herself, she was
proud of it, and even though she had no choice, she would wear it proudly.




As she pulled up her driveway, a strange package caught her eye. It was in
front of the door, and it was left by UPS. She carried it inside carefully,
and opened it up. Inside was a metal belt, she looked at it in shock, my
god, she thought, this is a chastity belt!



Rachel could not help herself,
she had to keep staring at it, and wanted to try it on, yet she was afraid.
What if this too, locked? She touched it, stared at it, and fell asleep with
it on her bed with her.



The next day, she stared at it some more. She could
no longer help her self, and reached into the box, took out the belt, and
tried it on. She just would not close it, she thought. She looked at it in
the mirror, and it did not seem to fit right, she pulled it up higher, but
the belt around her waist had to be closer to fit right. She put the ends as
close as she dared, and looked again. Holding her waist in, she closed her
eyes, and imagined it locked on her, unable to touch herself, completely
owned by the person with the key.



"Click". The lock shut suddenly, and her
eyes opened wide with terror. Rachel was locked, and there was no way out.
Rachel was going to become a slave.


Page last updated 00-Jan-26 by:
Altairboy@aol.com


That evening
after my first day at work, I unlocked the front door to be welcomed by Alex,
saying, "Don't utter a word, I have a surprise for you. Get your clothes off and
let me tighten your laces. I am sure they have loosened during the day."
I had to strip
there and then just inside the front door. Alex attached a heavy chain to my
collar, which he connected to something above me. He manacled my wrists. "Hold
your mouth wide open." I did as I was told. A ball was forced behind my teeth,
attached to a strap that was fastened at the back of my head. He then proceeded
to take all the slack out of my laces, continuing until I could hardly breathe.
I was unable to protest, only grunt.
"Just walk along
to the kitchen." I looked round to see if he had unchained me, then I noticed he
had attached the chain to a pulley running along the ceiling. So that is what he
had been doing while I have been at work. The crafty sod. "These rails run
throughout the house, you are chained to a motorised unit that I can control by
this box, I can shorten or lengthen the chain, I can also set it to restrict you
to certain parts of the house. You will be chained to this rail at all times
while you are in the house; I might add, with no exceptions except when
showering. Even this will be overcome—I have ordered a metal collar to replace
the leather one."
The motor above
me hummed, and I was being led at a very slow pace into the kitchen by the
chain. I was unable to resist its pull. The chain directed me to a position by
the table; it did not allow me to sit down. Looking up I could see where I would
be channeled. A single rail entered the door which then split into three: one to
the sink, one to the cooker and one ended where I was now. It looked like a
railway system fixed upside down on the ceiling.
Standing there in
my very tight-laced corset, gagged and chained to the ceiling seemed bizarre.
After the initial shock, I was warming to the idea of my movements being
controlled within the house, although I was not sure about the ball in my mouth.
It certainly made me feel pleasantly vulnerable.
"I know you are
incapable of speech, just nod in answer. How do you like my new system?" I
shrugged my shoulders. "You will get used to it in time. Is your corset tight
enough?" 
I nodded an
emphatic 'yes.' How could I tell him it was too tight. 
"Good. This is
the first time I have been able to completely close the edges. I will order a
new corset with two inches smaller at the waist, with certain modifications. Did
your boss approve of how you were dressed?" 
Alex repositioned
my arms in front of me. The chain tightened, pulling me towards the sink, then
lengthened to allow more movement. "Right, you get on with the vegetables and I
will see to the meat."
During the meal I
had been relieved of the gag, but was warned not to talk, which frustrated me; I
was longing to tell him all about my day. I ate very little, not wanting to
cause any further discomfort while the corset was so tight. The gag was
replaced, Alex punched his controller, I was forcibly raised from my chair and
directed to the sink again. "I will give you a set time to wash up, then you
will be automatically brought through to the lounge.”
After what seemed
a long time at the sink, I was pulled extremely slowly towards the lounge. It
must have taken ten minutes. I was directed in front of my chair, but the chain
did not lengthen to allow me to sit down. Alex was not in the room. A whole hour
passed before he appeared. 
"I am sorry
darling, I was working on the PC in the study and lost the track of time," Alex
said as he repositioned my hands behind my back. He lowered the chain so that I
could sit down at last.
That night, once
being released from the tight restrictions of corset, was sheer bliss and the
lovemaking wonderful. My predictions of improving our sex was certainly paying
off and was worth all the discomfort and embarrassment. We talked late into the
night. Alex explained that this would be the only time I would be allowed to
talk in our home, although I did mention the ball gag was uncomfortable, but
accepted I would have to wear it.
The weeks went
by, and we were both enjoying my corseting and bondage to the fullest.
One Saturday
morning, a parcel arrived in the post. Alex said this would be my new corset and
collar. Without a word, he pressed the keys on his controller and I was led by
the chain to the bedroom, where I was forced to stand in the centre of the room
while Alex inspected his new purchases downstairs.
"I see you are
still here," he said mischievously, entering the bedroom. "Let's remove your old
corset and fit you with the new one."
It was in
gorgeous gold leather and smelt wonderful. It was easier to put on as it could
be opened at the front. Alex began lacing the back, and I realised it was a
below-the-bust style with detachable platforms to support my bare breasts. As
the laces were tightened further, my breasts rose steadily higher, until they
were almost at shoulder height. I was amazed how far they protruded in front of
me. I could not make any comment, as I was still ball-gagged.
"There, what a
figure!" said Alex with pride. "Next comes the metal collar, It is styled the
same as the dog's collar, with studs, name plate, D-rings and padlock, all made
in solid silver. The collar is hinged at the back, with the padlock positioned
at the front. As I close it I am coating the ends with super glue, and the same
with the padlock, so now you will not be able to remove it, nor will I."
"There is just
one more item," he said as he went out of the door. He returned with a long
steel bar with two 6" bars welded at right angles. This he then proceeded to fit
to the motorised unit, replacing the chain. I was backed up to the bar. "I am
attaching the D-ring at the back of the collar to the top short horizontal bar.
The lower horizontal bar is attached to a D-ring sewn into your corset at waist
level. The bottom of the vertical bar has a chain welded to it, this chain comes
between your legs, like this, to the front of you. You will not need the
handcuffs anymore, just bring your arms to the front and I will fit these padded
leather wrist cuffs." The D-rings on the cuffs were connected to a spacer bar
about a foot long, the middle of which connected to the chain between my legs.
This was long enough to enable me to raise my arms just above my waist. "I need
not unshackle your wrists when you have to do the chores. It may be difficult,
but I am sure you will manage somehow. I was also concerned that you might faint
when I lace you more tightly. By this method it will be impossible for you to
fall over. Try it out for the rest of the day. I will disable my remote control
and give you freedom of the house, but remember the bar only allows you to
travel directly under the rails."
What a position
to get oneself into. I was fixed to a metal rod, unable to bend and silenced.
While Alex worked in his study, I amused myself by exploring where I was
permitted to walk, finding out where all the tracks would lead me. I had to be
careful when passing any of the front windows for fear of somebody looking in
and seeing a woman with large naked boobs bouncing up and down on their
corset-platforms. After a while I tired of this game; trying to sit down, the
vertical bar prevented me. I was stopped from going to the study, as the pulley
would not go beyond a certain point; it locked. I could not go backwards or
forwards. The gag prevented me from calling out. Tears just welled up. I must
have stayed in the middle of the hall for at least two hours before Alex emerged
from his study.
"Sorry Tanya, you
must have been stuck in the hall for ages," he said as he wiped my eyes, hugging
me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "I should have told you that the study is
out-of-bounds, and if you attempt to enter, the motorised unit automatically
locks."
That night, free
from the restricting corset and gag, the metal bar replaced by the chain, I
complained to Alex that I was not happy being gagged, preventing me calling out
when I got into trouble. "What if I was on my own? Also, the chain between my
legs makes it very uncomfortable to sit down. It digs into my bare buttocks."
"You will get
used to it in time. Are you happy with your lot otherwise?"
"Oh yes. I love
the tight-lacing and the control you have over me and want to carry on," I said
sleepily. It was a tiring day.



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Accidental Slave - Part 2










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Saturday, April 27, 2013 @10:12 p.m.

I can't help but wonder what follows


At first I ignored the email's beeping. Nothing good could come from answering it. What could Marcus possibly say that would make things better for me? He was a liar and had proven it. The last time I'd listened to him, I'd ended up with more rings, more pain and more humiliation (see Accidental Slave).

I deleted the message without opening it. Almost immediately, the beeping started again. Grudgingly, I stole a glance at the subject line--"I know you're there." My stomach churned and a chill went up my spine. Did he really know what I was doing? Could he see me? I quickly deleted this message, too, and ran to close the window blinds, not daring to look outside.
Things were quiet for a minute and then another beep. At first I didn't look at the screen. I just sat slumped in the corner; my mind whirling, trying to find some way out of this horror film. And then a fourth beep. I waited--cornered. Eventually, I pulled myself across the floor and scrolled through the two new subject lines. First, "Answer me or you'll be sorry." And then, "Do you think they'll like the pictures?"
That got my attention. A terrible dread gripped me as I opened this last message. There was just one sentence. Oh, shit, it was my parents new email address! How had he gotten that? Then I noticed the attachments--three pictures. My heart skipped. I was pretty sure what these pictures would show before I opened them. The first one was of me smiling up from the piercing bed. My crotch was wide open and the labia rings sparkled. My smile had been convincing. It looked like I was really proud of myself. There was another picture with my ass in the air and my labia and nipple rings hanging down. I didn't even bother to open the third picture.

If my parents saw these pictures it would destroy them. They'd never believe that I was forced to pose for them. They'll think the worse--that I had turned out just like they worried I would by going to the big city university--a slut and a harlot. I could never face them again.

It was inescapable. My parents could never see these pictures. I'd have to deal with Marcus and find some way to keep him from releasing the pictures. Knowing him, there would be a price; I just hoped I was prepared to pay it.
My reply was terse, "What do you want?" I didn't bother with a subject line. His answer was short, too. "We have a date. My car will pick you up on Friday evening the 15th at 8:00 PM. Don't be late." This didn't sound too bad but I wasn't reassured. The only plus was that the date was two weeks away.
Those two weeks were a time of adjustment. My collar scratched my neck every time I turned my head. Soon I learned to move my head slowly and to use my eyes for sideways glances. Anything to reduce the rubbing. I also practiced covering my collar with scarves, cowl necks and turtle necks (none of which were particularly successful).
My biggest adjustment, however, was to the rings. It was bad enough that the nipple rings caused by nibbles to constantly rub against the inside of my bra. That was just an irritant. That is, unless I was wearing one of my flimsier bras. Then it was obvious that my nibbles were extended and that I had rings. It looked like only full support bras for me for awhile.
The real problem was the cluster of rings surrounding my pussy. The rings were so heavy that just standing brought noticeable pressure on my labia. And if I walked with any speed they clanked and bounced causing more strange sensations. Grudgingly, I had to admit that not all the sensations were unpleasant. In fact, some were just too pleasant. I learned to walk slowly and deliberately to both silence the clanging and to keep my panties dry. Oh yeah, I also learned not to cross my legs rapidly. When I did that the pussy rings bound up and pulled mercilessly at my lips. Grimaces crossed my face whenever this happened.
I continued to limit contact with my sorority sisters, showing up just for meals and to go to and from classes or work. For the most part my sisters were fairly oblivious to my change in behavior although a couple commented on my lack of "party attitude." The scarves and high neck sweaters sufficed to disguise the collar during my brief interactions. But that couldn't work for long.
And speaking of work, I had to pull off the same tricks at my part-time job. I was an assistant secretary to the Dean, two days a week for four hours. It was really a gopher job but it paid for my books and my meals. The scarf and high neck trick worked there, too. My big problem was that it was across campus. I was no longer capable of speed walking to the job. Unless I wanted to show up sweaty, panting and sopping wet in the nether regions, I had to go slow and take breaks to calm back down. I managed to make the trip but it doubled my travel time.
The morning of my Marcus date I received a package. One of my sisters excitedly announced the fact when I returned from work. Apparently, the dress box created quite a stir in the house. The only identification on the outside of the box was the name "Marcus." Despite several pleas I didn't open the box in front of the others. Anything from Marcus was too dangerous to show them. Instead, I took the box to my room and opened it there.
Inside was a bright red dress, high heel shoes and a note. The note said, "Wear this dress and shoes and nothing else. Be out front at 8:00 PM promptly."
The dress was cut very low in the bodice, going as far as the navel. It came to mid thigh but there was a slit that ran right to crotch high. The material was a clingy, thin silk. There was absolutely nowhere to hid
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