It was their first anniversary. Owen came home to his English countryside manor to find Kim already downstairs waiting in their dungeon.
Kim smiled as he entered the dungeon, “Welcome home, Sir.”
Smiling, he replied, “And happy anniversary, my love.”
“I know, Sir.” Pausing to brush her fingertips across the polished steel of the collar that became her constant companion precisely one year
earlier, “It still feels like it was only yesterday when I willingly accepted your collar. If you would allow, I’d like to rededicate myself.”
“I would be honored, Kim.”
Slipping off her bodysuit, Kim sank onto her knees before her Lord and Master, “I willingly accept your collar and openly embrace my submission. So
long as I wear your collar, I desire neither safe words nor limits. In pleasure, in pain, even in death, now and forever, I’m yours to do with as you please.”
Helping Kim back to her feet, he secured her wrists in the overhead manacles. Soon she’d be hanging from them as his heavy bullwhip brings delightfully
desperate screams to her lips.
Of course, Kim never will know the truth, that she’s not the first masochistic submissive to grace the dungeon of my ancestral country home. Most only last
about five years before I grow tired of them. In a few years, Kim will be joining them down in the crypt. Her skeleton stripped clean of flesh by the
carrion beetles, which will reduce her corpse to just bones and a collar in just a few days...