Further Thoughts on His Collar

Sir frequently reminds me that it is the contrast between things that allows appreciation and emphasis of the positive one:  happiness vs. sadness, absence vs. presence, and so forth.  Recently there was a post on Fetlife that discussed the removal of the slave’s collar for practical purposes and how did other slave’s react to the absence of the collar.  Opinions and emotions ranged from crying to “I didn’t even notice it was gone.”  I, of course, got to thinking of his collar.

Sir collared me about 3 years ago and established the rule that I would wear it when I could.  It is a plain, black play collar so it cannot be worn in public or when family members are home.  In the beginning, it felt an obtrusive thing around my neck and I resented it but gradually I came to accept its presence and learned to love it.  Its encircling of my neck reminds me of ropes controlling my breathe and I fantasize.   Right now, I notice how it slightly restricts swallowing and tugs at my hairline on the back of my neck.  Sir is right (OK he always is, grrr!) .. when it is there, I never forget it is there.  Unlike some of the Fetlife responders, his collar never becomes an extension of my body to be forgotten but is a symbolic and physical connection to Sir.  I reach up and touch it frequently and sometimes I have removed it but its ghost presence remains.

While I wait for Sir, my attachment to his collar replaces his actual physical presence.  There have been times when I cannot wear it, I simply close my eyes, hold it in my hands, cradle it to my heart and give it a kiss.  Sometimes it is covered in my tears and longing for him.  Afterwards I may feel silly as I look at its simplicity and know nothing can be an adequate substitute for Sir but his collar is my life’s Holy Grail.  When I have driven long distances by myself, I proudly wear his collar and hope others see it, wonder and imagine what is behind the smile on my face.  Although I used to exercise in the morning and run errands at my whim, now I restructure my entire day around wearing his collar.  There are those days I must venture from my house due to my responsibilities but I am filled with sadness for his missing collar.  I don’t know if the structuring of my time was his intent but my home has become my cage.

With the acquisition of shackles, my rule for Sir’s collar has expanded to include wrist and ankle shackles.  What a difference from wearing his collar alone!  They are not silent passengers but jingle as I walk throughout my house and I wonder if Sir would be annoyed with his slave’s bells?   Unlike the collar, I admit I am not strong enough mentally to wear the shackles at every possible moments.  The metal wraps around my brain and tightens just like ropes in a very painful, tight position.  I find it difficult to function and focus on my responsibilities and sometimes, I have to remove them in order to be productive.  I try to be honest with myself and remove them only when their presence is a detriment to my day and not because I am rebelling in my typical, naughty way.  In fact, when I feel that rebellion stirring in my soul, I clamp those shackles on at the first possible moment and most times, the rebellion is quelled with the reminder of his firm ownership.  The shackles remind me of obedience whereas the collar symbolizes love.

Collared and shackled, I sit here typing and I am enveloped in feelings of ownership, love, and obedience.  I love their  binding of my soul and hate their binding of my soul but they will remain.  Oh how I fantasize about wearing a collar constantly and long for anything of Sir’s to be on my body so to never be parted.  But he is right that I notice his collar’s absence and presence but never forget the leash is always attached.  Many of the Fetlife responders replied the collar is merely a symbol and I would regret my thinking turning in this direction.  Perhaps it is the waiting or perhaps it is me but I need symbols as much as I need rituals and structure.  Unlike other play sessions, Sir had me wear his collar while we played this week.  As pain and pleasure coursed through my body and overwhelmed my mind, I never forgot that his collar remained firmly clasped around my neck.

 

About bonimiss

bonimiss only found her kinky side in her early 50s and thankfully found Sir shortly after. She is is a long distance journey with Sir and is constantly amazed at the new and exciting experiences and discoveries. You can contact her at bonimiss through the Submissive Guide Community.
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