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I struggled not to ask him what he intended to do when I heard the soft thud of something metallic rattle next to my face.
“You can look because you have a choice to make, Largo. I am fed up with being lied to.” His voice was distant and hard.
“I’ve only ever asked for two things from you. Your trust and no lies, and yet, you still lie to me,” he harshly continued. “Look at what is on the floor next to you.”
I turned my head to focus on the object he’d dropped.
It was a plain leather collar with a lead attached.
No.
He had to be joking.
He wouldn’t.
“I would have given you anything. Instead, you took what I gave you and threw it away. Now, I’m giving you a choice. You can put that collar on and surrender your will to me or you can say no and I will divorce you, and you can go live the lie you are perpetuating. The choice is yours, Largo.”
Each word he spoke was like a physical blow, each one carefully delivered in a measured tone. I sat up, my gaze fixed on the collar before I slowly turned to face him, tears welling up in my eyes. I shook my head in disbelief, whispering under my breath, “I’m not lying, Caleb. I’ve told you everything I know. I know nothing more. I swear.”
There was complete silence from him when he looked down at me, his eyes locked onto mine, giving me space to make up my mind. By placing that collar around my neck, it became evident that reconciliation would be a lengthy process, and there was a possibility that he might never forgive me.
Was that a gamble that I was prepared to make? I didn’t know.
I came to the realization that the actions I’d taken had a ripple effect, and it was incumbent upon me to take responsibility and make things right. Only this was something I wasn’t sure I could do.
Furthermore, I acknowledged that he was correct in his assumption that I couldn’t achieve all my desires without facing any consequences or having any responsibilities. By demanding that I personally place the collar around my own neck, he effectively imprinted in my mind the undeniable fact that I had made the conscious decision to surrender myself entirely to him.
With hesitation, I timidly extended my hand towards the collar and carefully proceeded to undo it. Mentally, it was even harder to put it around my neck and do it up.
Once I had it on, I knew there would be no going back.
He never moved throughout the entire process, nor did he speak, but I knew he watched when I finally got the buckle done up and looked up at him. I would have thought he would have shown some emotion, some kind of feeling that I willingly gave myself over to him. Instead, I got nothing. Not even a flicker to let me know how he felt.
Without speaking, he reached down and took a firm grip on the collar. I couldn’t stop the whimper of panic when I was half dragged, half carried, like a dog about to be tossed out the back door for peeing on the floor, to the club’s bar. He pushed me across the bar and stepped back. I hung across it, unable to touch the floor. I couldn’t hear what he was doing behind me, but it didn’t take long to find out. The first smack of his belt against my bare buttocks let me know what was in store and I wailed in surprise and shock.
“Be silent. I do not want to hear your voice until you begin to understand that my voice is the only one that matters.”
The belt whistled again.
With expert skill, it landed immediately below the first mark. So did the next and then the next, as he worked down my buttocks and thighs. At other times, his hand would drive me mad with delight while it traced the reddening marks or even caressed my pussy between the blows, but this time, there was no respite. I struggled to stay silent but couldn’t prevent the tiny moans each blow drew. He changed sides to rest his arm and began again, this time working from the thighs up towards the reddening cheeks. Despite the pain, I realized he controlled the blows carefully. He could have raised welts or even drawn blood, but the intent was for prolonged punishment.
I couldn’t hold back the sobs, both of fear and of pain.
I tried counting in my mind to provide some measure of pride, but in the end, I lost count. I wanted desperately to say my safe word, to see if he would care enough to stop, but he’d toldme he didn’t want to hear my voice and I knew how badly I’d behaved.
It was his right to do whatever he wanted because I’d given that right to him when I had placed the collar around my own neck. In the end, that was what kept me from screaming for him to have mercy. I had finally given him my trust and I couldn’t plead for him to stop.
It was for him to decide when I had learned my lesson.
At last, he stopped. He was breathing a little heavily when he walked around the counter. I whimpered and looked at him through my tears. He held the belt up to my lips and I kissed it.
“Hold it,” he commanded when he pushed it between my teeth.
Willingly, I closed my mouth on the leather and he slid his hands along my arms to guide my hands to the edge of the bar top, closing my unresisting fingers on it. He took the belt from my mouth and told me to hold tight because this was going to be bad. His tone made my body start to shake as he turned to walk away. Then he paused, looked back at me, and reached over to grab the tea towel laying on the bar. He pushed it into my mouth with a terse command to bite down on it if I had to. My body started to shake harder when he moved away to stand behind me again.
The cheeks of my ass were already hot and red when the blow landed.
The already sensitized skin came alive in a strip of fire and I bit down on the tea towel. The next one landed, I clung to the bar top like a rock climber clinging to bare rock after the belay had failed. The belt only swung twice, but it was enough.
