The OWLS Club
The story is about a group of people, an actual place, and a dream. While having a none too subtle dig at society in general. This is a work of pure fiction. None of the characters are real people, nor do they represent real people. It is a slow burn, a lot of romance and some gratuitous sex for those who need to get off on it. It is based in Australia so I have used local language. There is some Italian and French conversations, so if you want to really become attached to the characters I strongly recommend you use a google translator. It will help with the flow of the conversations. As I use the Queen's English, I will apologise in advance to my American friends for the correct spelling of some words.
Some of the place names are correct.
There is no underage sex involved.
Part 8 -- A Collar, a ceremony and the works started.
I got her to tidy up the play room, locking away the toys, and showing her where everything went. Then collected our clothes and ventured back into the house. I told her to clean up the breakfast things while I had a quick shower.
We got our selves dressed and I took her to her lodgings, and picked up what little possessions she had. A simple back pack full of clothes, most in need of washing by the looks of them. This young lady was going to need some training I knew.
Proper training.
Then twice, inside a week I made a spontaneous decision. Something that was as foreign to me as anything could ever be.
I will keep her around.
I will collar her, I will make sure she was looked after.
I felt comfortable with it, although I hadn't asked her, in reality it wasn't her decision in any case. I was certain she wouldn't complain.
When we got back home, I took her into the bathroom and showed where everything was. Not my own personal onsuite she had seen earlier, but the normal standard house bathroom. The toilet was separate, she had her own shower, bath and dressing area. She didn't have much in the way of cosmetics, some lipstick and eye shadow. Not much at all. I do want my partners to look feminine, not done up like a tart but pretty and cute.
"Michelle, I am going to take you under my wing, under my control. To teach you, to train you. You would like that, no?" I told her while holding her gaze.
"Oh yes madam, I would like that a lot." She replied.
"Then follow me," I went to a cupboard in the utility room and took out 3 collars and a beautiful ornate timber box, 8" square. It was locked. It looked delicate but in fact it was a very robust and secure box. "Bring them to the kitchen Michelle." I instructed her.
I laid the 3 collars side by side. But held onto the box.
The first one was a plain old brown leather dog Collar an inch wide and well used looking at the state of it. A soft leather, thin, weather beaten something that an old dog would wear.
Next was a brand new black leather dog Collar, never been worn still very plain but the buckles and clips were not rusty or unclean, but shiny, pristine.
The third was a very ornate, red leather. 2" wide and a full quarter of an inch thick. It would keep a head held high and straight. On it was various symbols and words written in Latin 'Possessores ab hera'. [Owned by a Mistress] Michelle looked at me with a look of bewilderment and excitement.
I let her handle each of them slowly and as I suspected she picked up the largest one first, felt how stiff it was, how thick and unforgiving it was. I could see she wanted to try it on but I intervened.
"Michelle, you have to earn each one, just because you want it doesn't mean you are deserving of it." I explained.
"Yes madam, how can I earn such a beautiful collar?" She asked of me. I smiled at her. "It is a long journey my pet." I told her.
I took it from her hands and placed it at the end of the other two, then placed the box down onto the cold marble bench top. It made a distinct wooded sound, each of the corners had a brass fitting making the box look more secure than maybe it was, and they matched the lock and hinges.
I took a small brass key and unlocked the box, the sound of the key making the contact with the mechanism had a distinct sound about it. I turned the key and the lid sprung open, or released from its locked position.
Michelle was sat on a bar stool on the opposite side of the kitchen island from me. I stood there looking at her. I opened the box so as the lid hid the contents from Michelle, she couldn't see even with her stretching every muscle in her neck. She smiled at me. I looked at her, my eyes not giving anything away.
I then took out what I called my Day Collar, more jewelry than collar, but those who were well aware of the Ds lifestyle would know what it was and what it meant.
Michelle's eyes flew open and she reached out for it.
"NO Michelle!" I stated "this is for you once you have climbed the ladder and have shown me you are worthy of it. It comes with tremendous responsibilities and in truth you are as far away from wearing this as anybody could be. So let me ask you this, and think on it before answering. Are you willing to put your Mistress first in your life, over everything else, over everybody else?" I asked her, not letting her lose my gaze.
I waited, I saw her tiny little brain whirling around in a state of confusion. I could see the desire in her eyes to wear both the red and the day Collars, but there was still doubt.
"What must I do Mistress?" She asked me.
I smiled at her and told her bluntly. "There are many things but for starters, for me to put that old collar on you now you must do these things. Show that you truly desire to be owned. Strive to please your Mistress in all things, not just sexually. This means that you may have to give up some of your own personal freedoms and preferences. Conduct yourself in a respectful and modest manner at all times, recognizing that your behavior is a direct reflection on your Mistress."
I looked at her, she was thinking, taking it all in. "Do you want me to say it in French for you Michelle Dumuir?"