(Repost)

A tear was rolling down my cheek, but I could not help it. I was in pain, the moonglove I was bound into so tight my elbows were merely touching. Almost brutal clamps were crushing my sensitive nipples, the chain fed through the ring in the collar locked about my neck. The collar was a variation of the eternity collar. It was leather, but no wider than a half inch at most. Silver braided thread was at the edges, and two sapphires set to each side of the ring. The ring itself could be removed and locked back into place by someone, which was good considering short of metal cutting sheers, the collar was permanent, melted silver sealing the lock in back.

The final part of it was the quarter inch of solid platinum which encircled the leather, the two as one, and the metal adding both the weight and the constricted feeling I was feeling. It was a collar which any submissive would be proud to have, but I was not. To me the collar was a prison sentence. A year of slavery, of having no say over my body, to be used and degraded and even more debasement than I first thought was possible. I was only twenty-four, but I felt so much older from my actions, and the consequences I now endure.

My thoughts are interrupted as Master (I learned my lesson and even in my mind I now only call him such), pulled on the leash attached to my collar. I moved, and did my best not to moan. It was hard not to, so hard, and I know it was a losing battle. I have witnessed, and endured, Master's skill. He has made me cum every time no matter how I resist. He has put my love, Avery, his own wife, through things shy of medieval torture and made her climax, and beg for more at the end. We were helpless to him now, at his mercy, of which he had little to none.

As I think about Avery, I see her on her hands and knees as she is lead away. She has pissed herself already, and will pay for such. It would be their excuse to punish her, but they needed none. It was merely disguised pettiness as people gained revenge over her, rubbing her nose at her new status as if she were some dog who defecated on their nice clean carpet. I did not understand that when I was with Avery everything was sunlight and joy. I gave myself to her, and was giving up all my family ties for her. However one can only hear so many stories and know there had to be a grain of truth to them.

Avery had been a sadistic bitch who took joy in breaking others. Now the shoe was on the other foot and she was a slave, pure and could not object. She could not be harmed, nothing which would land her in a hospital, and no brands, piercings, or tattoos without Master's consent, but everything else was fair game. I could understand why my love pissed herself. Heidi Rodhal was here, and the woman hated Avery, and made her suffer so at these public events of the Society. She had confessed to me after the first time Heidi used her she wished she were dead, but knew she could not be, could never be. Master had told us what would happen to us if either of us were to try to commit suicide. A shudder ran through me. It was only a year. Surely we both could survive a year.

Heidi was already cackling with glee as she came forward to take Avery's lead. Another tear ran down my cheek. I tried to make eye contact, to tell her to be strong, but she was gone before I could. Master lead me another way, every step a testament in sensual torture as any movement, no matter how small, caused little pains which led to little pleasures which continued to feed the whole vicious cycle. I do not resist, do not fight. I behave as I want to cum tonight, oh by God I need to cum tonight. It had been a month of strict chastity, never being allowed to touch myself at all, yet teased, always made to become aroused. The pressure to get a sexual release, no matter how small, kept building and building and building.

Part of me was a bit ashamed of myself, especially when there was the swish of the rubber heavy flogger followed by Avery's scream. Heidi loved the instrument for the pain it could dole out yet not break the skin. It was an instrument meant to inflict pain in such a way a body could take more, and Heidi was very skilled now with the torture device, and Avery was in store yet for another week of bruising and not being able to sit or lay down comfortably. Yet, as all of this was starting to happen, there was not a trace of sympathy in me. It was burned out of me by my sex feeling it was on fire, throbbing in time with my rapid pulse. No, there was no room to feel sorry for my lover. I needed to cum, and it was all that mattered to me. It was a sorry state of affairs, and despite the near desperate need, I cannot help but think back on the past, and how exactly I ended up where I am now....