My Teacher Put Her Collar on Me and Lost Control

It was a Saturday morning, I don’t remember the exact date. One of those mornings when you cross paths with someone who catches your attention without mercy and without you really knowing why. “Wow, what a beautiful woman,” I thought. But right away I told myself I must have seen a hundred people on the way there, and at least ten of them were beautiful women too. Why was I feeling that way about her in particular, as if she were special?

I looked away and focused on why I’d come: to attend a drawing workshop and improve my lines, since I wasn’t really anything special at it.

Then I found out it was her who was teaching the class, the one who was going to share her knowledge with me. Despite that first impression, I decided to forget about her smile, her gestures, the way she moved while talking about what she loved, and I devoted myself to listening and learning carefully. Out of respect, yes, but also because I shared her passion and that was the most important thing for me at that moment.

Even so I couldn’t help noticing that she seemed vulnerable, as if it were her first talk. Her body tensed, she clenched her fists, her posture changed suddenly.

Focus, Vera, I ordered myself.

The class ended and I went up to her with the sole intention of congratulating her and giving her my card, in case she knew of any company that might need someone like me. After that I left and went on with my life. I crossed paths with another hundred people on the way back, at least ten of them gorgeous, but none of them had the same effect on me.

Clearly Selene wasn’t unique, but she had something. She awakened interest and curiosity wherever she went.

Or so I think. Maybe it’s just me. Don’t pay me too much mind.

***

Time passed and I kept to my routine, my work, and my relationships. One morning I got up to make coffee and check my email.

Spam. Spam. Spam. A message from Selene. But what the…?

I read it without getting nervous, thinking it would be about work or just a way to stay in touch. Networking, you know. She was in the city for a few months and wanted to meet for coffee in a quiet place. I offered my apartment, and then it hit me that I’d have to stock the fridge if I didn’t want to look like a bad hostess.

I sent the invitation and she accepted instantly. That was when I actually got nervous.

I looked at myself in the mirror, disheveled, wearing only purple panties and a huge, worn-out white T-shirt. My red hair was a disaster after hours battling with the pillow, split ends from not having gone to the hairdresser in a year, and in my light green eyes a bit of crust reminded me I hadn’t even washed my face.

I lifted my clothes and grabbed a bit of belly fat I thought I had to spare.

I’m in no shape at all, I pitied myself out loud. Bah, but I’m fine. These things don’t matter to me, and if I work out sometimes it’s because I like it, not out of superficiality.

One pose to see my good side, another for the not-so-good one, and then I looked down at the part of my body I liked best: my breasts. Gravity affected them a little without a bra, but they always seemed the perfect size to me, with their roundness and natural droop. When I draw women, I use them as a reference, so I could almost consider them a standard.

I went back into the living room a bit more put together, and there was a new reply on my laptop.

She wants to see me next Wednesday around ten in the morning. Perfect.

I replied with my address and a nearby shop as a reference point, so I could pick her up on the way and do a little nosing around before getting to the point. I like knowing people well when I work with them or befriend them.

***

The nights leading up to that date were torture, and during the days I kept convincing myself that those wet dreams are normal for me and mean nothing. The week before I’d dreamt about an actress from a TV series, so…

I talked it over with Lara, a comfortable friend—I call her that because to chat with her I only have to log on to the internet, which for someone who flees socializing like I do is a real advantage.

—It’s nothing, you’re just a bit degenerate —she texted me with a laughing emoji—. In dreams everything looks so nice, but when you see her she’ll probably have turned ugly.

The truth was I didn’t remember her in detail. I only kept the effect she’d had on me, and that was probably what worried me. That, and the fact I was dragging around a complicated relationship with someone who was starting to ask for exclusivity. Maybe that’s why the night before Wednesday I had the most unsettling dream of all.

We were both standing in the kitchen, too close, with no clear reason to be. There was no coffee or cookies, no music, no noise to drown out my thoughts. Her eyes were in shadow, probably because my brain didn’t remember that part, but it did show me her dark hair, the lines of her body, and her mouth.

I watched her lips come together and part slowly when she spoke, as if my eyes had a camera’s zoom. It paralyzed me, sped up my pulse, and filled my mind with things I wanted to do and shouldn’t.

We came closer centimeter by centimeter while I imposed forbidden caresses on myself and on parts of my body whose access I should restrict. I held her hands, left the smallest possible space between our mouths so it wouldn’t count as contact, and kissed her forehead slowly, savoring the scent of her hair. Her hands escaped my grip and climbed under my clothes toward my breasts. I didn’t stop them until they were millimeters away, and then the alarm went off. Just in time.

Time to get dressed and meet her where we agreed.

***

I always arrive early for my dates, which is a problem when there’s something making me nervous. Like an overly intense dream the night before. To fill the wait I resorted to my usual trick: putting the most rhythmic song I could remember in my head on a loop. It worked, as always, until I saw a silhouette in the distance and recognized her. The needle jumped off the record and the sound dissolved to zero.

—Hi —she greeted me with surprisingly few words.

We gave each other two kisses on the cheek and a shy smile.

—How are you? How have things been all this time? —I said, gesturing for her to follow me.

And I felt a huge sense of relief. I think she’s changed. She’s thinner. Her hair’s longer. The effect isn’t the same anymore. I didn’t look at her too much, so I wouldn’t give myself the chance to find proof that I was wrong.

Better. I don’t like her that much. It was only dreams, an idealization, a movie I’d made up in my head. I admired her and put her on a pedestal.

***

I invited her in and we sat facing each other. I gave her the most comfortable seat and made sure she had everything she wanted to drink. But this time I couldn’t look away. I had to see her eyes, fit the missing piece into the dream from the night before.

Her hair was longer, brown but dyed green at the ends, and it looked incredible on her. I don’t know if she was thinner, but on her first smile dimples appeared that nearly made me faint.

I need to find flaws in her, I thought. Dark clothes in summer? How hot. But they suited her perfectly. Matching her eyes, with navy blue eyeshadow and a dark lipstick, she wore a semi-sheer black floral top that revealed a strapless lace bra. And a long black skirt. What caught my attention most was a collar snug around her neck, gothic in style, soft, more suited to a pet than a person, but it fit her perfectly. I didn’t ask what it meant for fear the answer would captivate me.

Everything she told me dragged me down a little further. I couldn’t convince myself that I wasn’t attracted to her. That woman had something; she awakened interest without even trying, so much it made me angry. Every new detail I discovered about her intrigued me more, like a detective obsessed with the case of her life.

There was no work reason for us to meet. She’d simply thought of me now that she was back in a city where she no longer knew anyone. So we talked about everything: work, family, relationships. And almost בלי realizing it, we started getting into more intimate details. I think it was my fault: I opened up too much.

And we got to sex.

I’m affectionate in private, but also very sexual. People who know me know that, if you get me talking, I can talk about many things and that I have a capricious dark side. And I’m curious. This time, that was going to be my downfall.

—I have a dark side —I blurted out.

—In sex? Which one? —she asked.

—I’m very, very fantasizing, very active.

—Mmm, that’s normal, I expected something else —she said with a smile—. I think my dark side is darker than yours —she added, and her smile turned a little more evil.

—I’ve had submissives I dominated and controlled with a collar and a chain.

There’s the killing blow to the most curious Vera.

—But… dominate how? Is it something violent?

—No, don’t worry, nothing violent. It’s a game where I’m in charge and decide what to do and at what pace. That way the other person can relax, trust, and let themselves be carried toward pleasure —she answered in the calmest voice in the world—. Though the language is quite firm, and I get very serious —she clarified with a half smile that was very sexy indeed.

—Yeah… I see… —I stammered, and fell silent with my head down.

—Are you okay? —she asked, concerned.

The silence stretched. Until I dared.

—Could you show me that collar?

—It’s the one I’m wearing. Why?

—Curiosity —I answered with a trembling smile.

—Do you want to try it on?

—Will you let me?

—Of course, come closer.

She took it off calmly and put it around my neck carefully. It still held the warmth of her skin. The material felt nice but snug, with a small metal ring to attach something to. It made me feel strange, and the situation excited me.

—And what am I supposed to do now? —I asked, frozen, not knowing how to move into action.

Selene took a chain out of her bag, hooked it to the ring, and held it in her right hand. She showed me the link between her possession, which at that moment was me, and the power she wielded by simply holding the other end.

—Normally now you’d have to kneel, lower your head, and wait in silence for me to decide what to do with you.

Something made me move without thinking. I dropped to my knees at once, lowered my head, and shivered when I saw that under her skirt she was wearing black boots halfway up her calves.

—Please… will you be my mistress for a while? —I begged without daring to look at her.

Several endless seconds passed. Isn’t she going to say anything? Suddenly I felt her tug the chain, making it jingle, urging me to lift my head. She came closer, grabbed my chin, squeezing my cheeks, and looked down at me, turned into a goddess.

—You’re intrigued, aren’t you? —she said in a tone that grew more and more commanding.

—Yes, a little.

—Only a little? Well, if you want this to work, you’re going to stay quiet until I say so. Okay?

—Yes.

She smiled again, stood up, and pulled me along to the bedroom, forcing me to crawl on all fours behind her. She sat on the bed and spread her legs. I tried to touch her, but she stopped me.

—You may only touch me or speak when I tell you to. Is that clear?

I stayed silent.

—Answer.

—Yes.

She stroked my cheeks, my hair, and then ordered me to stand up and undress for her. I pulled my pants down, sliding them over my thighs, my back to her, so she could see how well the black lace panties fit me. I was proud of my ass at that moment. But to take off my T-shirt I first had to release the collar, and when I did it without permission, Selene stood up and backed me into the wall.

—To free yourself, you have to ask me, do you understand?

I swallowed, frightened by how much I wanted her. I never liked violence, neither physical nor verbal, and this didn’t feel violent at all. It was a situation in which I felt safe. It paralyzed me and at the same time intrigued me to the utmost. I wasn’t afraid of her at all: only desire, need, the certainty that if I surrendered to her, I would be in good hands.

She gave me a lick that made me shiver, brushed my mouth with the tip of her tongue and bit my lower lip carefully, to show she knew what she was doing. She herself unclipped the chain and finished undressing me. She made me turn toward the wall, told me not to look at her, and slipped her hands under my bra to squeeze my breasts. Then she pulled my underwear down to my ankles.

I obeyed almost like a robot. Since when am I like this? What is she doing to me? I’d always taken the lead with my lovers. Playful, bold, mischievous. And now I was frozen.

She let me turn around. I wanted to hug her, but she shoved me back against the wall again.

—You’re behaving terribly. If you don’t follow my instructions to the letter, I’ll make you wait longer and longer before you can touch me.

She told me to open my mouth and stick my tongue out as far as possible. When I did, she caught it, licked it, and sucked on it with a repeated motion. I loved the sensation, and I stayed so still that a thread of saliva slid down my lips.

—Please, do that again —I begged, pinned against the wall.

—What? Didn’t I tell you…?

—Kiss me, let me feel your tongue more —I interrupted her.

She turned very serious at my audacity. Even so, I couldn’t help defying her and opened my mouth again, waiting eagerly for her.

—I should let you go and leave, abandon you. You don’t deserve pleasure if you won’t play along with me.

She hooked the chain back to the collar and pulled until I knelt. She looked down at me, thinking it over. I know she won’t leave. My naked body is tempting her.

—Open your mouth —she ordered.

I obeyed instantly, reading in her expression what she wanted. I watched her lean down, gather saliva on the tip of her tongue, and let it fall onto my thirsty mouth, sliding into my throat and dripping from the corner of my lips down to my cleavage. I licked my lips happily, and that seemed to anger her.

She pulled me again, threw me on all fours on the bed, and sat on top of me. She’s light, so I had no trouble supporting her, but it tortured me not to be able to turn my head and watch her while she took off her boots and started undressing. She stood up, got rid of the skirt, and let me turn around. Her underwear was black, of course.

She sat back down on the edge of the bed and directed me again, making me go down and crawl once more on all fours across the floor. She watched me with flushed cheeks while I tried to make out her sex through the sheer fabric, my expression hungry.

—You’re dying to eat it, aren’t you? Say it.

—I want it so much… —I answered, overheated.

She spread her legs and moved the fabric aside. I gathered all the saliva I could and waited. She beckoned me with her finger, and I obeyed, extending my wet tongue to its full length, flat and warm. But just as I was about to brush her clit she pulled my hair and threw my head back.

—You’ve got a naughty face. What are you plotting? —she interrogated me—. Relax and don’t think, just obey. Let yourself go.

And she kissed me.

Or rather than kissed me, she devoured me. At last she gave me what I’d been begging her for. We shared breath, I enjoyed the texture of her lips, and I noticed how she closed her eyes and surrendered a little, revealing an unexpected weakness. Selene, the dominator of bodies and minds, was breathing fast, wrapped in a desire she hadn’t anticipated.

So I took the lead for one second. I caressed her waist, slipping my hand under her top, prolonged the kiss as much as I could, and pushed her onto the bed so I could get on top. I moved her bra aside just enough to graze her nipples with my fingertips, making them harden and pinching them until she lost her strength. I pinned her wrists, covered her neck with kisses, bit her earlobe, and dared to whisper her name. That unsettled her and she shoved me.

She positioned herself over me and held me down hard. Even though I felt I could beat her, I decided not to fight yet. I’ll wait for my moment.

—Didn’t we agree you were going to obey? Why is it so hard for you to accept who’s in charge here? —she scolded me, now with a less authoritative tone, calmer—. You can’t touch me if I don’t ask you to. Okay?

—I’ll try.

She got me off the bed, grabbed the chain, and led me to the living room, making me walk like a cat. I felt her dominance again, how much she enjoyed having control. She let me go and stripped completely, fast, in the least sexy way I’ve ever seen. But I loved her body: her white skin, her small firm breasts, her slender figure.

She sat on the sofa and spread her legs. I waited for orders, kneeling, memorizing every detail so I could remember it later, alone. Her finger beckoned me again. This time I came closer obediently but with some mistrust, moving sensually on my knees and hands.

—Come here, curious kitty —she said with a tender smile.

And then I remembered something and saw it clearly. In her talks, when she was nervous, her muscles tensed and she clenched her fists. Just like now. She doesn’t have control anymore. She doesn’t want or can’t stop me. She’s the one who wants to let go. She’s vulnerable.

I opened my mouth and extended my tongue once more. Even though she grabbed me again, I caught her hand and didn’t let her pull me back. A few centimeters more and I saw that she wasn’t closing her legs, that she wasn’t blocking my way. Until I managed it: one long pass over her clit, slow, intense, as if I were trying to break a record.

Her hand finally relaxed. With my fingers I separated her sex lips a little and worked my way in, drawing circles over her clit, attentive to her breathing and her moans, to how she clutched the sofa fabric. But she wasn’t looking at me. Because she knew that if she saw my grateful face and my wicked smile, there’d be no way to stop me. What she didn’t know was that if I couldn’t stimulate her with sight, I would attack her hearing.

—I’m in charge now, and I have only one order for you —I told her with absolute confidence—. You’re going to come for me, no waiting.

Her only answer was a broken “uff.” Her body trembled and she finally opened her eyes to meet the gaze she’d been avoiding. I spread her legs a little wider, slipped the tip of my tongue inside her, and slid my lips over the lips of her cunt without taking my eyes off her.

I went back to her clit and made it vibrate with powerful licks. I placed my index finger at her entrance and pushed it in, turning it in the rhythm of how her walls squeezed it. She arched her hips, grabbed me by the hair, and moaned, writhing.

And just then the chain she’d meant to keep me tethered with slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, like a metaphor for the moment Selene surrendered to the domination of the one who, though kneeling, now had the power. Me.

I held her tightly so she couldn’t get away, closed my lips around her clit, sucking it sometimes, never stopping with my tongue, not bothering to wipe the saliva that dripped from my chin to my thighs. My free hand roamed her body, pausing on her nipples and her belly. Two fingers filled her, in and out, until I finally heard what I wanted.

—Uff, yes, like that, very good —she granted between moans.

Her approval left me completely soaked. It wasn’t just that I was eating her out: it was a devout surrender to her whole body, an effort to give her physical and mental pleasure above all else.

—Ah! Don’t stop, please —she begged—. So good, yes…

I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined myself outside my body, watching the scene from a corner of the room: two naked women in the middle of ecstasy. Selene on the sofa, panting with her head back and her legs open, and my kneeling self, barely breathing through my nose so I wouldn’t give her any respite. I felt powerful like that, fucking her from different angles without letting her go, my own body trembling as much as hers, my thighs tightening from the heat of my cunt.

—Uff! Yes! Don’t stop! I’m going to come! —she warned me.

I didn’t hesitate for a second to stay. I needed to see that face having an orgasm she’d never forget. And soon the reward came: her contractions were so strong I could barely push my fingers all the way in. I didn’t move my tongue from her clit for a single moment. She covered her mouth, but the moan was almost a scream, and her body shook while I kept devouring her through the very last wave.

I took my fingers out carefully, kissed her mound to relax her, and allowed myself to smile at her and rest my head on her belly, listening to her breathing settle.

—Uff, that was so good… —she said, tossing her hair back, with the expression of someone who’s just gotten off a roller coaster.

That’s the Selene I wanted to see.

But she didn’t take long to turn serious again.

—I admit you’re incredible, curious kitty. You do it very well —she said—. But you didn’t want to submit or follow my game, and I’m going to have to punish you by not seeing me again for quite a while.

I was left speechless, bewildered. Is she really that proud? Did I really offend her by not letting her set the pace? She got dressed angrily and took the chain off my neck.

—I’m sorry to leave you like this. But I don’t understand why you had to be so bad, why you couldn’t be like the others instead of putting all these doubts in my head and… —she stopped for a moment—. Keep the collar. The truth is, it looks wonderful on you.

And she left, slamming the door.

I didn’t understand a thing. And on top of that I was left with a scorching heat I didn’t know how to ease. I went to the bathroom mirror and looked at myself, still naked. I lifted my right hand and brought it to my neck to feel that velvet touch.

It’s true. I love how that damned collar looks on me.