Her instructions had been explicit. She was to address Him as “Sir” or “Mister.”
When he finished, he disengaged her from his face and forced her into a kneel, released from the bonds of the rope. Face down, ass in the air, her lips at his boots.
“Still feeling bratty, girl?” he asked her, as she laid her face at his feet.
“No, Sir! I am owned. I am Yours. I am Your girl to do with as You wish. Please forgive me of that brattiness and teach me to be what you want.”
“Rise up, girl. If you want me to teach you, you must become Mine,” he said as he reached for a plain leather collar.
Her eyes disbelieved what she saw. His collar. Something she had dreamt about but not allowed herself to consider.
Until now.
She lifted her chin up, her eyes cast down, and offered Him her throat.
Offered Him her All. She simply was.
Owned.
When he finished, he disengaged her from his face and forced her into a kneel, released from the bonds of the rope. Face down, ass in the air, her lips at his boots.
“Still feeling bratty, girl?” he asked her, as she laid her face at his feet.
“No, Sir! I am owned. I am Yours. I am Your girl to do with as You wish. Please forgive me of that brattiness and teach me to be what you want.”
“Rise up, girl. If you want me to teach you, you must become Mine,” he said as he reached for a plain leather collar.
Her eyes disbelieved what she saw. His collar. Something she had dreamt about but not allowed herself to consider.
Until now.
She lifted her chin up, her eyes cast down, and offered Him her throat.
Offered Him her All. She simply was.
Owned.
