Kitten stories – Collars

We arrived in New York for the weekend, a business trip Master calls it. Is it horrible that I don’t know what his business is, other than as long as I live in his house, I want for nothing? I know he is a very wealthy man, but my eyes see him with rose-colored glasses, and he could be a pauper for all I care. Dedication is not about fattening the wallet or even status. It’s about fully placing your life in another person’s hands. All of my life, I wondered why I feel so different, and Master is the man who explained that to me with words as well as actions. A submissive is not any less of a person than her Dominate. She is stronger than most. The ability to place herself and her happiness in the hands of another is one of the strongest things humans can do. 

The streets of New York are a world of their own. The lights, pictures, and flashing of the billboards take me to such a wondrous place. I was born and raised under the strict rule of my father, so this makes me feel like a kid in a candy shop. Tucked under the protective arm of my Dominate, I can’t help but watch people. I’ve heard once that if you sit on a bench in Central Park, you can see the world walk by. It’s at this moment that I believe that to be true. 

“Sir, what hotel are we residing at?” I ask. It doesn’t matter where we go as long as we go together, but I know this man. He will only stay at a five-star hotel, and he expects royal treatment. A man of his stature usually does. 

“The Lotte Palace is where we will be staying. I have booked you a room adjoining mine. You will find the accommodations sufficient, I believe,” He said. 

I smiled, looking up with adoring eyes, “I always find the times I spend with you sufficient. No matter where we may go.” I sound like a hopeless lovesick fool. I wish that he would walk me through time square with a collar and leash. Show the world that I belong to him, and only to him. I’m sure that it would get many stares, but I am not ashamed of who I have become. 

Hours later, I stood in front of a mirror, watching my reflection: the dress red, almost the shade of blood. I’ve always been partial to that color. A slit up the right side from the ankle to the waist, there are no panties allowed with this dress. It needs a tiny sliver of body tape to keep it sealed, but that is not something that Master would want me to use. He loves to show the world what HE owns. The last accessory to the outfit is a pair of spiked 5-inch stilettos that match the shade of the gown. None of the clothing is mine, though all of it hangs in my wardrobe. The day I moved in with Master, I gave up the ability to own anything. I am his personal property. Even my birth certificate is now his. It’s the way it has to be in our household. 

“Did you apply the perfume?” he asks. 

I did not hear the room door open, nor did I see him join me at the mirror. At times, I tend to get lost in my imagination and tune out the world around me. 

A quick shake of my head, “Of course not. I know the rules.” I never know the scent I will be wearing for the day. It’s picked out ahead of time, and Master has the perfume at his disposal, not mine. Some have said that to be submissive, you lose your identity, and in a way, I feel like it gives you the one you never knew you possessed. This dress is something the old me would never put on, but the new me, I am fascinated by my appearance. Growing up awkward, with braces and acne, I still see myself in the same light, though my looks are drastically different. 

“Hold out your hands, palms up,” he said. 

At this time, no words are needed. Complying, I held my hands out, my slender wrists exposed. 

“Close your eyes. Do not open them at all. I want you to tell me the first thing you smell,” Master said, his voice soft. 

As I took the first breath in, my senses filling with the soft scent of jasmine and rose petals. He knows my desires and uses them to drown me in his presence. “Floral. Is that Jasmine Rose?” I asked, shivering from the scent. 

“Outstanding my Kitten. I have a treat for you,” he said. 

His voice radiated a smiled that I couldn’t see but knew was there. He next placed the scent behind my ears, and at last, on the inside of my ankles. Can a perfume make you feel prettier? I now feel as beautiful as a blooming rose on the perfect sunrise over the ocean. The next part of the evening took my breath away. Still, with my eyes closed, I felt a cool, slender object place on my wrist and clasped tight. 

“Open your eyes, Kitten. I have a gift for you for getting that right,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

My breathing soft, but my pulse raced a marathon in my chest. God, this was killing me. I want to see, but I also love tease and denial. Self-torture has always been a kink of mine. Slowly, my lids rose. This time the breathing ceased. “Oh, Master,” I cried. On my wrist is the most delicate bracelet laced in an array of diamonds. Dangling as a charm, a tiny kitten rested on the top of my hand. I am Godsmacked. My fingers are shaking like an addict in need of their drugs.  

“You have proved to be a good girl, and I want you to have this. It is yours to keep no matter what,” he said. He pulled the wrist to his lips, kissing where the clasp sealed, his eyes shimmering with wickedness. 

My heart flutters with love and adoration. I never saw this coming. I blinked to hold back the tears. I can’t risk ruining my makeup. I know Master demands perfection not only in public but private as well. 

He held his hand out, waiting, “Shall we go?”

My slender hand slipped into his. I still don’t know where he is taking me. The pit of my stomach wrestled with a field of butterflies. “Thank you, Master. I am so honored to be here tonight with you. I feel like lately, I am being tested. I will prove to you that I can be a perfect, Kitten,” I whisper.  

As we walked from the room, a quick and silent elevator ride took us directly into a ballroom. The room decorated in shades of pink and purple, and flowers sat in the middle of each table. Jasmines and roses! Every table is covered with crystal glasses and the most delicate china. In the ballroom corner, a woman plays the harp, radiating a soft melody through the room. It’s no secret that my skin covers in a prickle of excitement. I’ve always blushed when excited. 

“Silence until spoken to,” he said. 

I know the rules. Unless Master permits me, I will say nothing. I never again want to disappoint this man. He is my family, my love, and the only man who can ever take me to hell and expect me to thank him for the ride. 

At the head of the room, there is a long table set in the most elaborate decorations. It has the same as the others magnified times 100. If I’m honest, it is almost as though a ceremony is taking place, but what? 

It was then that my stomach turned over, a sick feeling washing through me. The woman who caused me the most pain that I have ever endured joined us.

“Congratulations on tonight. I’ve brought the collar. It will look stunning on your Kitten,” she smiled.

My knees are weak. Reaching out, grabbing his arm, I am at a loss for words. 

“Me,” I whispered. 

With a slight nod, he looked over with a smile, “Yes, you’ve proven your loyalty to me.”

2 thoughts on “Kitten stories – Collars

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