How my Love Looks

The fit was snug as his hands finished securing the clap, arranging my hair just so, then taking a step back to view what he had done.

This is how my love looks. A tangible thing. I belonged to him wholly and the collar was just the expression of that love in the physical.

He looked at me with longing and hunger in his eyes, and I could see how moved he was,
"you look beautiful".

My throat constricted, but not from the mark of his ownership around my delicate throat. Lips brushing forehead, fingers grazing along my breast. Then came the faint click of the leash being attached.

My pupils dilated and my heart beat in a deeper, louder rhythm than before. My arousal spiked from the sure knowledge that I would be firmly guided and directed. This is how my love looks.

Tonight was about him. The show of his power and strength. The true testament of his control. He would make me taunt with tension, then melt with relief.

His strong hand and graceful fingers tightened suddenly around the tether to my collar. As he brought my face to his and grasped my chin, my knees knocked as his lips devoured mine.

With a mere moving of his arm my body was directed to the place where he desired it. My head pulled back, the collar keeping me in tight position as he whispered "I want you to feel. I want you to focus. I want you to be my good girl like I know you are."

Fingers brush, bringing tension to my nerves, my body alive and humming its pleasure. Soft sighing air brushing gently past sensitive skin.

This is how my love looks. The complete submission of my will into his hands with the beauty of my enslavement. The freedom, brought to me once so ultimately bound, profound in its beauty.