A nightly walk long ago

I remember a night during the first spring after we had fallen in love. It must have been the spring of 2004 and I lived in an apartment in central Stockholm, together with my ex, my then-Master. Mistress semi-lived with us then too, she had her own place in another town and worked at yet another place, but we spent a lot of time together.

This particular night we were up and out very late, I don’t remember why. I vaguely recall that there was a reason, we had been to some event or other. And we walked home through the city, Mistress and me. It was late spring or early summer and one of those nights that doesn’t get dark. There was a little bit of cold in the air, the scent of flowers were everywhere, and it was light, a bright twilight, even though the sun was down and it was late at night. There were some people out, but not many.

And Mistress had me in a collar and leash, perhaps for the very first time or at least one of the first times. We walked through the dreaming night city, in the twilight and the scent of flowers, I followed her a few steps behind her and she held my leash in her hand. We might have led the leash inside my sweater and out through the arm, it was very discreet and no one seemed to notice at all. It was magical and exciting and made me feel very safe, and very loved.

I remember also my ex commenting afterwards when I talked about it that he was a bit jealous because if he had had me in a leash in public people would stare angrily and assume I was being abused. Maybe he was right, I don’t know and we never tried it. I know no one stared or commented on me and Mistress and I know that I looked forward to doing it again sometime. But I’m not sure we ever did.

Having my collar sawed off from my neck - a unique slave experience

And now, ironically, I'm not collared anymore.

Well, I'm "collared" in the sense of being just as owned as before, there's been no relationship drama. There has, however, been rather a lot of health drama, with me having allergic reactions and then most probably having reactions to the allergy medication, and well, I don't know, possibly also to the new mattress we got a couple of days ago.

The end result has been me having fatigue, dizzyness, nausea and also looking like a watermelon in the face, bright red and swollen. The  most annoying part for me, apart from the fatigue that has really wrecked our schedule, has been incessant hot flashes, were I've been simultanously been dripping with sweat and feeling like a pressure cooker while my feet are icicles, no matter what I do with them. Thoroughly unpleasant, the whole thing, and more than a little scary.

Yesterday when I'd been laying in bed more or less since 10 AM, trying to get up every now and then only to go back to miserable featal position, Mistress had enough and started a de-allergenprocess. I got out and stood in the snow storm for a while, and we hauled the new mattress out to storage so it could get rid of it's new-matterss-stink on it's own for a while. But the first thing she did was getting out the key to the collar and starting to unlock it.

She was very clear that it wasn't any kind of punishment, but since I had been swelling around the neck and getting red in the face on and off for more than a week by then, she wanted to be sure I wasn't somehow reacting to the collar. I haven't had it off for more than a few minutes since she put it on this spring, so if it was doing something to me, we wouldn't really know until she took it off and kept it off me for a while.

Well, it was a good plan, but the tiny tiny little screw in the locking mechanism wouldn't budge. Okay, so she went and got the extra key. And then she oiled the lock, and tried again. But no. It was stuck, and when she worked on it it only got worse. In the end, she gave up.

And went and got the saw.

So yeah. Yesterday I spent an uncomfortable twenty minutes with Mistress holding a hacksaw to my neck, and with a very firm grip on the collar sawing it off of me. Slowly and with great effort, I might say too, because it was a thick one and didn't much want to be sawed in two. It was bizarre, a little scary, a bit painful and a lot sad at the same time. I don't have my collar anymore. It's in the trash, and my neck is all bare.

Ah well. I'm still hers. We'll get another collar. Right now, my main focus is getting back on my feet and to stop looking like an overly ripe watermelon. 'Cause that look is so 90's.

Collar revealed

We had vanilla friends, a married couple with two sons over for barbecue tonight, and as we were preparing things outside when they had arrived, my friend commented on my necklace. "That's pretty" she said, "but it looks like a wire." I agreed and remarked that it actually was a wire, stripped of plastic and polished. "I like that it's kind of glittery" I said, and she pressed on with a comment about how it looked like a chain, as if it was locked on to me, "to keep you in check". When I answered non-committally, she said "like something kinky". And then I caved.

"Yes" I said, and when I wasn't sure she had got it I repeated myself "yes, actually precisely like that. That's how it is. Yes." She laughed a little and hummed and hawed and then we changed the subject easily, without too much embarrassment. She didn't ask anything more and even though I would have answered any questions gladly this wasn't the time nor the place.

I hope she'll bring it up some other time, because I would love to talk to her about it. I would love for more of our friends, especially close, long-time friends like these people, to know the truth about me and Mistress and what the deal between us actually is like. But I wont press it. I'll wait for her to fish for it, I don't want to give her information she'd have preferred not to know.

She's the only one so far to comment on my collar without knowing anything about it in advance. And it made me really happy. I like my collar and I'm proud of it - if the world was a different place, I would have loved for anyone who saw it to know what it meant. As it is, I only answer if people come right out and ask. But if they do, I'll tell the truth.

Being collared?

Mistress got me a collar a few months ago. A permanent collar, from http://wyredslave.com/. It's shiny and pretty and has a beautiful tablet with an inscription on it reading "Amor vincit omnia" on one side and "This slut is the property of X X" on the other. (Well, not XX - but Mistress' initials and last name.)

She got it meaning she ordered it and paid for it and tried it on me and then put it in a box awaiting... something.

Well, first awaiting a good opportunity to hold a small ceremony with us exchanging vows in the presence of a few of our friends. But then, when the opportunities went by without us doing anything about it, it turned out to be a wait for my mood to stabilise. Depression and starting up life long commitments doesn't really mesh, in Mistress opinion, and I found it hard to disagree. (Or at least to disagree on any reasonable grounds.)

But as my mood has lightened this waiting thing has gotten old. I want a date! I want something, something to hang on to, something to make me believe that it's really going to happen.

We talked about it, and Mistress took out the box and looked at the pretty, shiny necklace, and we realised that one reason for the waiting game is the collar itself. It's shiny. And big. And stiff. And not even remotely discreet. I think both me and Mistress feels a little bit hesitant about the comments and looks I'll get, especially from our parents.

But now she has tried it on me. We skipped the part of keeping it secret and sacred until the ceremony, and  decided that a more gradual approach works better for us. She put it on me yesterday in front of the TV in the evening, and it was wonderful. I slept in it, which worked just fine, and now she's put it on me again and spanked and fucked me while I was wearing it - non-surprisingly, it didn't interfere with either.

And most of all, I think we both get a chance to get used to the look of it, the feel of it. Once we're sure that we like it, I don't think others comments will affect us at all. But it takes a little bit of getting used to.

A pick-n-mix of good and bad

Being depressed sucks. What astonishing news. I'm quite ready to be healthy again now, thank you. All done with this stuff. Unfortunately, that's not how it works. This far, I'm at the stage were only the side-effects of the anti-depressants have kicked in yet, so the only result of the medication is nausea and grumpiness. Yey.

But Mistress bound me down and whipped me this morning, that really was great. I simply sunk into it and floated, relaxing and letting go. Afterwards, there was some blood, and I can still feel the sting of it. I like that. I fell asleep for a while after, and slept a lot this night, but that doesn't stop me from being perpetually insanely tired. But still, being beaten was nice.

And she's ordered a collar! It makes me all kinds of happy. A little nervous, I'm not really sure why, but mostly really really happy.

Collar-time?

I was 22 when I met my ex boyfriend. It was aboout a year later he put a collar on me, and 6 months after that my Mistress and I realised we were in love, and the three of us decided to continue together. So when Mistress and me got together, I was wearing his permanent collar. "I hated that collar!" she said the other day, and I know that. I knew that. Whenever we were together, he was with us, in the reminder around my throat. Which was fine, as long as we were fine. As long as him and me were fine.

But sadly, the relationship deteriorated badly before it was ended. The last year was horrible, and I remember Mistress and me discussing sometime in March that he had abandoned us, emotionally and in a very practical sense, and that we were both just kind of waiting for him to come back. But he never did. In October, she said she couldn't take it anymore, but somehow we persevered. At Christmas, I caved in, and around New Year, I moved to my mothers apartment for a week, and two weeks after that I split up with him. And only then was the collar removed.

It was a relief. I had loathed wearing it for a long time by then, but been much too afraid of the irrevocable concequenses that would follow if I asked him to take it off. It was supposed to be a symbol of Ownership, of me belonging to him, but I hadn't belonged to him for a long while in any practical or emotional sense at that point, and the symbol had lost it's original meaning. The magic had turned black.

That was... 2006, the very beginning of 2006. Six years ago now. In March, Mistress proposed. Sometime before the wedding in August 2007 I became her slave, her property. For two years I think I wore a chain around my ancle, but eventually the lock broke. Since last summer we've been wearing charms, mine a lock and hers a key, as simple necklaces, but my chain broke, and then I lost the charm. Now we have nothing.

We've been talking about getting tattooes, even went into a studio last summer. I hope we do it someday, but the whole thing about finding a place, describing what we want, booking an appointment and so on seems difficult and cumbersome. We just never seems to actually do it. Honestly, I think tattoo-artist intimidates us. And while that's not really a practical problem when it's me that's apprehensive, it is when she is. Maybe she'll get me tattoed. Maybe she wont.

It does seem, however, as it's time to get a collar around my neck again. Or maybe around my ancle. Or wrist. I don't know. I just know I wont be able to take it off, and now, for the first time in six years, I get that good tingly feeling thinking about it, rather then bad-relationship-triggers. I want to be collared again. I want to be marked and not being able to choose to wear it or not. I want the safety of knowing that I can't take it off, whether I want to or not. I'm ready now. At this point, what she and I have is so much more in the forefront than the memories of what has passed.

I guess it's a little like re-marrying after a divorce.

The collar I once wore was a flat metal ring around my neck, with the lock visible in the back, and it was made out of silver. There are some beautiful collars sold at different places, but most of them look a lot like that one, and I think it's putting both of us off. Eventually, we found www.wyredslave.com, and I think that's what Mistress will get for me. She took measurements for both neck, wrist and ancle, so it will be a surprise what it is.

They're sold with a PVC-coating, too, and I'm guessig I'll end up with something in black, somewhere on my body. I'm looking forward to it.