Being Remade (Part 6 of Series)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 11: Collars
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 11: Collars - The 6th in my Infidelity series about how I cheated on my BF, got involved with with the guy I cheated with for 6.5 months and what started as a mistake, became an affair and then slowly turned into my loss of self and degradation. This 6th story takes place about 6 weeks after I first cheated in what was the "happy time". I was already seeing the control and training taking place and in this story I tried to stand up for myself. Be sure to read the previous stories for this to make sense.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual True Story Cheating MaleDom Humiliation Rough Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex Squirting Voyeurism Doctor/Nurse Public Sex
Between rooms I touched the anklet through my sock without meaning to.
He had called it a gift for as long as I was willing to put up with him. A little that Mike could be told was a cross. The earrings had arrived the same way, pretty and specific, something a man gives a woman when he cannot stop thinking about her. This morning they did not feel like love. They felt like collars, soft ones, pretty ones, the kind you say thank you for while someone else decides how far you get to walk.
I told myself I was being ugly about jewelry. He did not have to send any of it.
He did not have to write that he could not stand not seeing me. He did not have to cook or run a bath or look at me like stay was a word he had invented for my mouth. I heard that speech start up in my head and I recognized the voice. It was mine. It was also his. I was standing at a Pyxis fighting his battles for him, and he was not even in the building.
He asked, Beth. You said yes.
He is intense because he wants you.
He is not controlling you. You like it. That is on you.
He brought you water. He stopped when you were drunk that other time. He is not the first night.
Every excuse I made for him came out of my own mouth, silently, while I scanned a wristband. I was the defense attorney and the accused and the idiot who had hired both.
Mike had the girls tonight. Mike had called last night wild in the best way. Mike did not know I was walking the hospital with another man’s plug-in and another man’s no-sitting where an orgasm was supposed to be. I had let Tyler take pieces of my life so fast I could still see the chalk outline of the woman who had five men and a laminated idea of herself just weeks ago. Weeks, not years.
Weeks. And I was already explaining the speed away as passion, already skipping the therapist, already spending Mike’s trust like it was a renewable resource.
I was mad at myself for that. The mad had nowhere useful to go, so it turned into heat, which made me madder.
At lunch, he did not ask if I had eaten.
Tyler: Get in your car and drive to the park on Maple. Same as the bathroom. I want to watch you.
Beth: I have forty minutes and a sad-looking turkey sandwich.
Tyler: The sandwich will still be sad later. Go.
I went. I was wound tight enough that arguing felt like a hobby I did not have time for, and I hated that too. Frustration had a shape now, and it felt like a hand on the back of my neck that I kept leaning into. He was not asking me to come over tonight; he was moving my lunch, he was moving my climax. Control. The word sat in the car with me, and I still put my car in drive.
I pulled into the far end of the lot under a tree that was doing its best. A woman walked a dog two rows over. A man sat on a bench with a phone. Nobody was looking at my Honda. That did not make the car feel private.
I called him. I shoved the seat back. I got the waist of the scrubs down.
“Talk to me, angel,” he said. “I want to hear about plug, and I want to hear the truth.”
I pulled it out to the widest part and pushed it back in. My voice came out unsteady.
“It feels like I am opening something I keep saying I do not want opened. It burns a little, and then it does not. When it is in, I feel occupied. When it is out, I want it back, which is the part I am not proud of.”
“And the lot.”
“Someone could see me. A dog walker could get an education they did not ask for. I am in a parking space doing this because you told me to, and that should make me stop, and it is making it worse.”
I swallowed. “Like Gary. He saw me. I looked at him while I came. I keep saying that upset me. It did. It also felt good. I do not know what to do with both of those being true.”
“Keep going. Do not cum.”
“I am going to cum. That is the problem; you have been at this since before eight.”
“Then you will have to work not to. That is the assignment.”
I rubbed and fucked myself with the plug and watched a minivan turn into the lot and park too far away to matter and still too close for my nervous system.
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