Captive Heart

The Posture Collar

I work to be a good wife and an even better slave. I try to do small things for him, things he may enjoy. Late last night while he was working I baked cookies. Good old-fashioned chocolate chip, just the way my Aunt Robin taught me when we stayed with her in Columbus Ohio. I have been told by many that I am a good cook, and I love doing it and learning new recipes. The mystery of new tastes and ingredients challenges me, and now I am married I take up the culinary quest with an almost religious zeal.

He walked into the kitchen and I presented him with my surprise. He smiled broadly and took one of my still-warm offerings telling me how good it tasted. I could tell though he was really seeking coffee. I should have realized he is just as his brother was, not a lover of sweets. Part of me felt foolish, and part of me felt a little injured. I should have just prepared him a roast.

He sat at the counter nibbling on what I had baked, and drinking the strong coffee that I was sure one day would burn out his insides. How he drank so much of it I really could not fathom.

“I have something planned tonight my little kajira.” His accompanying smile was one of barely abated wickedness. I smiled back at him albeit nervously, one never knew what was on his mind. He rose from his place at the breakfast bar and squeezed me affectionately on the shoulder. “Relax, he said, “you just might enjoy it.”

*****

He had dimmed the lights and instructed me to linger in the bath long after he had vacated it. Tonight there had been no aquatic sex. Though it was still early. However, I found it most unusual he had withheld. He did nothing without good reason.

The scent of the vanilla bubble bath was relaxing, as was the warm water. I closed my eyes and submerged myself. Dwelling on the luxury that now abounded in my daily existence. I was privileged, oh so very privileged. I was no longer cold, deprived, alone, yet there was always a price. My price, obedience to His will even if I found it repugnant. I was learning that in my dealings with powerful men.

I heard the front door even from my place in the bath. He was admitting guests, but it was Wednesday. My heart began to race, ears straining for a clue as to who it might be. He had said nothing of this visitation to me prior to this evening. I figured I would just stay where I was.

The door again, more men’s voices in greeting, the clink of wine glasses and wine bottles, my panic rising. Then quietness descended.

He came to me shortly after. I opened my mouth to frame my questions to be silenced by his gesture, his finger over his lips. He looked wicked and suggestive as he made to quiet me. His eyes shone in much the same way as his brother’s did before committing an evil deed. His hands were on my shoulders beneath my hair massaging away my tension.

“Tonight Lidia, you shine.”

I turned about to look at him, water and bubbles sloshed from the tub. I realized with a start he was dressed in a fine suit. The fabric a metallic gray, to appear almost argent, cuff links, and a fine white shirt. Did he have a meeting, had he invited associates over and he had not told me? I felt lost and confused. The scent of his aftershave bewitched me, and I lowered my guard. I pushed my questions aside and with a feeling of unbounded intensity, I let him draw me from the bath as I looked into the wells of his cold eyes.

He dried me, he touched me, his lips on my breasts. Where were his guests? Why was he so unhurried? Would they not be waiting for him? Uneasy thoughts as he led me into the bedroom. The carpet and deep pile rugs soft beneath my feet.

“You are exquisite Lidia.” His hand lightly brushed my face. His voice was deep. I lowered my eyes.

No sound carried to me from the room beyond. My kittens Maru and Suki were curled up on the bed in a rare moment of inactivity. If they were calm I could be. I reached out to stroke them but he pulled me away. His stare was so intense it frightened me, he had a posture collar in his hand. My throat felt dry, but my sex was already wet.

I let him walk behind me and fasten it about my throat. I was shaking not with cold but with both fear of the unknown and heightened expectation. With more gentle caresses, he was assessing me with half-lidded eyes the way an artist may appraise his work. His ruggedly handsome countenance held a look of sublime pleasure.

He bid me to put on his favorite pair of heels, but nothing else. Then he fastened a leash to this collar, made of chain and black leather. I could not look up or down, nor could I glance successfully sideways. He was brushing my hair which was now cut in a blonde bob. My breath already coming in panicked gasps. So many words of refusal ran through my head, but I thought back to Soren. He had not saved me then, and he would not relent now. Ona did this for him. I must as well. Flawlessly, without fuss.

No more words of assurance to clutter the landscape of quiet between us, just a simple “Come.” With an accompanying tug on the leash. Stand straight try not to feel shamed I kept telling myself. It is what he wants from you, it’s what he expects. I expect things from him, why would he not feel the same?

The house was dark and eerily silent. I knew then where his guests were. The theater room, and he was taking me to greet them naked. I felt sick, not at all helped by the constricting collar that bound my throat in tight latigo leather. My cheeks were heating up and I had not yet beheld a single face.

I was bathed in light as he opened the doors to his burgundy room of richness. We often spent time here alone, even the walls and ceiling were carpeted. I closed my eyes as he drew me forward before the scrutiny of not just a single friend, but three men, men that were strangers. Powerful, well-groomed, wealthy-looking men all dressed as he was.

There were noises of appreciation. “Lidia my slave.” He announced. “And tonight gentlemen, she will serve us as I promised.”

He removed the leash and sat then, looking at me both lustfully and expectantly. His great arms on the armrests of the large overstuffed theater chairs. Four men looking at me, fully dressed in suits and I was naked unable to move my neck. I could not believe he had done this to me. Was this in his mind the first night he had beheld me at his younger brother’s invitation?

They were older than he, one of them much older. He was silver-haired but still strikingly handsome, arrayed in black-suited elegance. One glance told me they were men who knew the hedonistic pleasures in life and were not afraid to indulge them.

I roused myself swiftly from my terror which threatened to engulf me and send me to powerlessness, and began to serve these confident powerful men as I had been instructed. I found some comfort in that. I did not meet their eyes only his. He was highly aroused by this in a way I had never seen before during any activity we had participated in.

They began to speak of business, and I was grateful when he finally dimmed the lights. He was making them a presentation. A proposal to build a large office complex, of glass and steel. He had been working on this tender for weeks. I still could not believe he had included me in this manner. He was either very stupid or bold. Yet watching these men it seemed they took no offense to his brand of ‘hospitality.’ Ona had done this for him I was sure of it. I guess his associates expected a show.

After the handshakes and the last drinks were finished, he and I were left alone. The house was dark and quiet. He turned to me after the last of the car headlights passed out of the driveway. He put his finger through the ring in my collar and pulled me up hard against him.

“You have no idea how much that excited me Lidia. Letting my associates see what they cannot have. That which is mine.”

His voice was no more than a ragged whisper. He was so impassioned each word came in a gasp. I had never beheld him in this way. He looked at me long in the darkness, his eyes burning into mine. “I can see why Frej had to have you,” he said. “You are danger, you are madness. I don’t care what you come from.” He laughed then, a clear unbridled expostulation of pure mirth. “You may be a slave, but I worship you.” His lips sought mine.

Lovemaking wild and fierce almost to the point of hurt, he bit me I cried. Not with sadness but with desire. He was right, the evening had put an edge on our love as the master sharpens a sword. Only improving its use and virtue. A new and dangerous edge, and at last I could begin to understand this very adult game of power exchange more clearly.

There were so many layers to this man. To think I had just seen him to begin with last February, as no more than a simple savage, just as his brother was. Driven by no more than base appetites and desires. Blind I truly was. I too had grown beyond simple fear, beyond being a young, naive girl. I was at last beginning to understand and enjoy his evil games.

It was not that I didn’t have power, because I realized I did. I was merely the other side of what he was, and together we stood united. Was this what he felt with Ona? Was this why he so deeply loved?

After last night I now understood why he had told me a kajira could be more powerful than any other woman, even a blundering kajira like myself. He would I knew keep me safe while he upped the stakes in this erotic game he played, and I found myself looking forward to the next episode, even if I was scared.