How do you handle two lives merging into one?
On the one hand, I am the wife of a loving husband, mother of three university daughters, a respected teacher and Girl Guide leader. On the other hand, I am also just a big titted red haired pet and plaything for Miss Enna.
When she collared me, I didn't see it coming, and from her responses, she did not anticipate my problem of not being able to take it off. Not in my soul. Obviously wandering around with a 40mm bronze collar locked about your throat is unworkable in a bible belt community, but the reality was, even off, it was still there.
Miss Enna took me to the local coffee shop. I fetched us both coffee and served her before she reminded me to use the chair and not sit at her feet.
"Boundaries pet. We must set boundaries. Now I am a switch. I am not always in the mood to have a pet. You have a need to wear your collar when you feel drawn to serve me, don't you Jan?"
She asked it so calmly, as if deciding my fate over coffee was just the normal thing to do to while away the after dinner hours. I nodded.
She continued, sipping her coffee and making contented noises.
"You will fetch a ribbon. Not a pink or red one, and you will tie it upon your wrist when you are feeling the need to be collared. You will wear it when you think of me. You will wear it when you address me. You will wear it when you fantasize about me."
I blurted without thinking "Green ma'am!"
She eyed me measuringly. "Green because of your army service?" Gods how she knew me.
I had to give her the whole tangled mess of it. "Green because that was the colour of the only oath I ever took to a woman, to serve Her Majesty. Green because of the Holly and the Ivy that a knight would lay upon the altar when they swore dedication to a maiden, a pledge that their devotion would remain true, as the holly and the ivy remained green while all other plants withered and blighted winter."
She smiled "That is very you, Jan. A green ribbon as your cuff will mark you as mine."
As she got up to leave, I blurted out a question. "Which arm should I wear it on?"
Wedding ring goes on the left, ladies favor went on the left, but generally submission was signaled with tapping out by your right, your strong arm..
Patting my head like I was a slow child or dog, Miss Enna made me blush with a simple and very practical observation.
"You will wear it on your left. You will spend so much time masturbating at the thought of me that if you wore it on your right your students and family would quickly understand what it was. If you wear it long enough, I will take everything from you. I will take your status, your marriage, your pride, your will, your whole life, and you will thank me for it, won't you pet?"
It was only her hand upon my chin that kept me from going to my knees in front of her in the coffee shop.
"No pet. You will keep it safe until I take it from you. I will set your boundaries and keep you safe until I decide otherwise." I felt such a rush of trust flow through me. It was a threat, a promise to take everything from me and I accepted it. Then she followed it with a demand I keep myself safe, knowing I would obey her and stay safe where left to my own devices my lust might well betray me.
Protector? Destroyer? All I knew was, to me, she was Owner.
That day I was volunteering at the Dance Studio. We had a new set of shut down protocols because of Covid 19 and I was helping out at the desk passing along the bad news and the details about payments deferred during the shut down.
Miss Enna had asked me to bring in my favorite pair of shoes and leave them on the desk. I had brought the blue satin four inch heels that my husband bought me for our New Years trip to the big city for a cassino concert. When she came and took them off the desk, I brushed a lock of hair out of my face with my left hand, careful to show her the green ribbon around my wrist.
She smiled.
An hour of phone calls to angry parents later, I got a call on the switch board to come up to her office. Miss Enna was standing in mid office. In my blue heels.
"These are mine now, aren't they pet?" She asked me.
I nodded. My favorite shoes looked better on her of course. Everything looked better on her. Nothing looked better on her. She could wear burlap potato sacking and I would crawl on crushed rock behind her.
"You may kiss them." She offered coldly.
I knelt to kiss her feet, my hair falling forward over he bare skin between toe loop and ankle strap, and her foot caught me chin and forced me up.
"Not like that pet. You will throw your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side so I can see your face as you press your lips to my shoe. My property kissing my property. Then you will do the same on the other side. Do it with reverence, for I will not often permit you."
How do you describe how instructions from your owner make you feel?
Humiliated? In part. Fulfilled? In part. Owned. Oh yes. Fully.
I cast my long red hair over my left shoulder. Kneeling down, I kissed the outside of the shoe, and then her toes with reverence. It had all of the solemnity of a religious ceremony. All of the sexual promise of a strip tease. Rising to my knees, I cast my hair over my right shoulder, and the caress of my hair on my super sensitive skin at that point tore a groan from me.
Kneeling, I pressed my lips to her other foot, kissing the shoe, kissing her toes.
She told me to get up, then sat down in her chair and pointed to her feet. I crawled to her at the foot of her chair.
"You may now hump my shoes with that pussy of yours. Who owns that pussy Jan?"
Miss Enna asked serenely. You would expect her to be stern, commanding, harsh. She wasn't. She did not have to scream to let me know who was in charge.
I spread my legs and shuffled on my knees until her foot pressed against my slack covered center. "You own this pussy ma'am. This is Miss Enna's pussy"
I looked up into her eyes in surrender as I admitted the truth. Told her what we both knew was true. I didn't own those shoes anymore because she asked for them. I didn't own my own pussy any more because she wanted it. Anything I had was hers the second she said she wanted it.
I began humping her foot, like a dog in heat.
She stared down at me, laughing openly.
"Look at that, my property humping my property." She mused.
"Do you need to cum pet?" She asked.
This was humiliating. I was growing urgent and ragged as i humped her leg, the truth obvious in my sweating face, my whimpering. I was about to cum without taking my clothes off, without a single finger touching nipples or vagina for the first time since I was younger humping her pillow too scared to touch her own privates.
