Chapter 42

The days after the mask incident blurred into a relentless cycle of submission and self-doubt. The heavy black training collar with the word “OWNED” embossed on the front had become as much a part of me as my own skin. I no longer asked Nick to remove it. I no longer questioned its presence. It sat wide and unyielding around my throat, forcing me to carry my head with a subtle but permanent elevation. The large D-ring at the front clinked softly with every movement, a quiet metallic reminder that echoed through the silence of our condo. Beneath it, the chastity belt remained locked in place, its smooth metal a constant, intimate warden that shaped every step, every breath, every thought.

I was changing.

And I was terrified of how much I welcomed it.

On Monday evening, Nick came home with a focused, hungry look that made my stomach flutter with both fear and dark anticipation. I was already waiting for him on my knees in the entrance, naked except for the heavy training collar and the chastity belt, as he now expected every day.

He stood over me for a long moment, then clipped the short leather leash to the front D-ring and gave it a gentle tug.

“Come,” he said simply.

I crawled behind him into the living room, the heavy collar shifting with every movement, the chastity belt pressing firmly against my swollen, denied sex. My knees ached against the cool marble floor, but the discomfort only heightened my submission. I felt small. Owned. Deeply, beautifully helpless.

Nick sat on the sofa and looked down at me.

“Tonight, I want to test how deeply you’ve accepted your place,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “You will serve me with your mouth while I watch something. Hands raised the entire time. No lowering them. And you will not cum without permission. Do you understand?”