Putting on my collar

This week I went in for a mammogram… just one of those pesky routine diagnostics that they start prescribing as I get older and older.  I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it either… it is not painful, just a bit awkward and uncomfortable.  The lady was nice, quick, efficient… nice in a professionally detached kind of way that I really appreciate.  I don’t find overly chatty, friendly x-ray technicians help me relax… I am all about getting in, getting squished and getting out in the shortest amount of time possible.

But this is not about x-ray technicians or squishing boobs… it is about my collar.  I wasn’t sure if they would want me to take off my collar and it does take a tiny little Allen wrench to turn the hidden little set screw.  I can do this by myself.  I have complete permission to take off my collar for medical and other type things… in fact I carry a spare little Allen wrench in my purse if there is any kind of emergency.

It was funny… I chose to take my collar off before I left the house and I teasingly asked Master, “Do you notice anything different about me?”  He stared at me for a long time before he noticed it was gone and then his eyes narrowed in a very strange way.  It was hard to tell if he was angry or shocked or hurt.  But all humor had instantly evaporated.  I was instantly babbling… explaining… reminding him of my mammogram… and he quickly relaxed. 

And I thought about that moment in the car as I drove to the doctor’s office and then as I drove off to work afterward.  I can take if off… I can put it on… it does not really change anything about me… not really… not inside.  But symbols are important… that and the fact that Master has found all he has to do to shut me up… turn me instantly still, pliant, silent is to slip his fingers inside the rigid ring of steel and tug.  (He very much likes that part… and um… so do I?)

I thought about the fact that I can be the one that puts it on… what that symbolizes.  In fact while having Master’s fingers on my neck, his hands carefully turning the Allen wrench can turn my insides to mush, the basic truth is that I am the one that must assume this role… that must internalize being his… being collared. 

When I finished my appointment and pulled that cool ring of metal out of my purse and slipped it around my neck.  When I carefully got out the Allen wrench and meticulously turned the screw.  I thought about how I was not doing this casually… that the very act made me pause and think… I choose to wear this collar… I choose to be his… I choose to be enslaved. 

Sometimes, late in the night, as I lay snuggled down, warm in safe in the night next to my Master I find my fingers looped around my collar, holding tight… somehow safer and more secure with the rigidity… the strength… the inflexibility… it feels warm to my fingers…

Bad back and a new collar.

Another dark, wet, cold weekend. Friday afternoon was our work Christmas party and I had permission from Master to be late. I had baked that recipe of coconut ginger cookies. (I will put up the recipe on Thursday when StrivingForPeace has her cookie recipe exchange.) The cookies were good, but not really right for a go to the bar and drink beer snack. (Darn that lady that asked us to bring cookies... nobody else did... pffft...)

But the bad thing was late Friday afternoon, I started getting this ache and twinges in my lower back. Ick... the last time I had lower back issues was the day about two years ago when Master very decisively and physically demonstrating to me, that we had descended down this rabbit hole far enough that there was not climbing back out .

The party was okay, but I don't function well in crowds and I did not stay long. By the time I got home, my back was threatening to go into spasms. Master got home almost the same time I did and while it was still early. I don't know if it was the party or the pain in my back I was tired and fell asleep early. And when I woke up in the morning I was in serious pain.

We had a funny morning. Master was sending me all kinds of mixed messages. Let's go grocery shopping early... Lets go "take a shower". (Master speak for take an hour having sex under running water.) Shower sex is not a quicky and is almost inevitably followed by a nap. A suggestion completely at odds with the "early shopping" plan. Now I am easy to command, but nigh on impossible to stop once I get started on said command. Once I had that grocery list in my hand, I was giving him a "you have got to be fucking crazy" reaction when the shower topic entered the scene. I am the type to have a serious meltdown if I see a "detour" sign.

For my "you have got to be fucking crazy" reaction, I got another physical demonstration that I was not in charge around here. I got shown this in no uncertain terms. We arrived at the grocery store far from early. And my back was totally bitching me out for my stubborn, frantic struggle against those strong, no nonsense hands as they bent me over the edge of the bed and alternately spanked and held me down as he fucked some sense into my stubborn head.

Suffice to say, Master was just a bit smug as we walked around the grocery store and I was far more emotionally and mentally flexible, even if my back was the exact opposite.

***

Cool thing though, my collar came yesterday. It was funny, I was wildly excited and was tearing at the paper and guess what, son number one and Livie walked in the front door. Poop... I had forgotten I had said I would baby sit. Everything got put away.

Later Master asked me why and I looked at him with this "I just wish you could realize how important this is to me." pained expression and murmured, "I want it to be just you and me. I want to kneel at your feet when you to put it around my neck and tighten the screw."

We ended up babysitting until late but before bedtime I got my moment, on my knees at his feet. I am not sure if Master puts the same kind of symbolic meaning into having me wear a collar as I do. But he did take a certain "technical" interest in the design and gave it his official approval as to fit and appearance.

At first I was a little unsure as to the fit. But the circle is round, so it does feel a little wide on the sides but the front to back dimension is perfect and it does not rest on my collar bones. If I had gotten a smaller size, it would press on my adam's apple. I slept in it and never once was bothered by it. (Unfortunately I was bothered endlessly by not being able to find a position that did not make my back hurt.) And already this morning it feels like I have worn it all my life.



It is shiny and strong. It feels exactly right, rigid and inflexible, like my Master's hands around my throat.

...And now I better get up off my ass before my back freezes in this position. The only real solution is to keep moving.

Humiliation revisited

I did not end up going to the Erotic Humiliation thing. I did not even ask again, even though he had never really said no. He had just emanated disapproval. And perhaps, it would have been just a little too embarrassing, a little too humiliating to show up to something like that alone.

There are lots of other things happening this month that he has said yes to. Yes to going to the erotica writers group, yes to a body work class... and a maybe to a munch where there is an open mic thing for people to read their stuff... in public. I have an unspoken fantasy of reading my poem "Devotion" (you can find it under the poetry key word at the bottom of the page)out loud, dedicated to him, with him there in the audience. We will see.

Speaking of humiliation, which seems to be the topic of the day... he made some callus, selfish directive and emphasized it with the word bitch and all he got was that suppressed giggle grin. He grabbed me by the throat and glared at me. "Seems like the word bitch is not quite humiliating?"

The grin just got wider.

He pushed me down, pinned me to the bed and narrowed his eyes, "I think I will call you..." And he paused thinking.

I lay there, wide eyed waiting. Words like cunt, whore, slut dancing about in my head.

"...Pooh bear." Gahhhhhhh!!!!!!! Bastard, mind fucking bastard!!!!!


This morning he asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I shrugged and said that I thought that the recumbent tricycle was my present for every day of the year for the next three years. Then I said tentatively, "but... if I could have anything I wanted... I would ask for a ring of steel 1/4 inch stealth collar."

He directed me to show him the images and said, "Okay, order it."

That is how things are done. I tell him what I want. He gives me permission to purchase it. So easy for him. No surprises for me. And I don't much like surprises anyway.