Some Call It Play

SOME CALL IT PLAY

By. Charles E. Campbell

CHAPTER 7

COLLARING MY SLAVE    PART 1

(Author’s note: It is my intention at this time to introduce some of my characters from my other stories to various other characters in tis chapter of SOME CALL IT PLAY. The “visiting” characters will be coming from: SARA, CHELSEA’S F. N. P. C., and NICOLE: JOURNEY OF A SLAVE. These characters will also be relating their experiences with David and diana in the first person, from their prospective, in their original stories at the same time. I am submitting the different stories either at the same time, or very close together to maintain the cohesiveness of the stories.)

My sister, Marie, had done all the leg work. Through her long time friend Lesley, a Lesbian Domme, she had known for many years, she made arrangements for diana me to meet Mistress Ilsa, a tremendously well respected and infamous part of the New York BDSM community. Lesley was working out all the particulars for slave diana’s collaring ceremony, and among the tasks she had undertaken was that she had arranged to have it take place at Mistress Ilsa’s remote Connecticut home in a rural part of the state.

Marie called me at home one afternoon and said, “Lesley has set up a meeting, over dinner, for you and diana with Mistress Ilsa. It is set for  tonight, at Her place in Manhattan.”

“Really,” I said. “That was quick. Short notice too, Marie.”

“Yes, but since the ceremony is this weekend, there isn’t a lot of time. Ilsa has stipulated that since She doesn’t know You or diana, she wants to meet the two of you before going up to Connecticut. She expects you at 7:30. I’ll email you the address.”

“Great, thanks so much Marie. This whole thing is so much more meaningful for diana and me having you so involved with it.”

“You’re welcome, David. From what little Lesley has told me about it, it really is going to be memorable. Anything for my ‘baby brother!’”

I heard her laugh light-heartedly as she hung up.

I sent off a quick email to diana at work, telling her that we would be going out to dinner that night, in the city, and that our reservations were for 7:30. She could do the math and figure out what time she would need to be home to shower and dress before we drove in.

diana arrived home at 4:30. I wasn’t concerned, as she is very efficient in preparing herself to go out. A quick ‘Hi Honey,’ and a peck on the cheek and she was off to take a shower.

“Where are we going, David,” she called out to me from under the steaming water.

“It’s a surprise, really, but I’m sure you’ll like it. It comes highly recommended.”

While she was toweling off, with her long hair wrapped in a thick bath towel, she called, “How should I dress?”

“Not to worry, I have something picked out for you already,” I replied. “I laid it all out on the bed for you. All you have to do is put it on.”

She didn’t come out of the bathroom until she was dried off and her make up had been applied. Never one for excess, diana kept her makeup to a minimum. Light pink lip stick, a hint of eyebrow pencil, and a touch of blush. Her hair, originally dark, now was streaked with copious lines of white, but she wore her age with pride, a badge of honor really. I could smell her perfume fill the air as I sat in a chair and watched her walk naked over to the bed to pick up the clothes I had set out for her. A form fitting light green tank top with spaghetti straps, a tight skirt, darker green, which ended just above the knee, and flat tan suede sandals, with tie straps that wrapped around the ankles tying off mid calf. A thin pale green ribbon choker finished off the outfit.

We drove into New York, rather than taking the train. I knew I would want some private time with her on the way home that would be impossible otherwise.

We seemed to hit the traffic well, and I found a parking garage only two blocks from Ilsa’s townhouse. Having forty minutes to kill, we strolled hand in hand down Fifth Avenue looking in the store windows and generally people watching.

When I turned and we started down Ilsa’s street, diana remarked, “Is our restaurant on this street?”

“We aren’t dining at a restaurant,” I informed her. “We’re having a private dinner with someone tonight.”

She looked at me quizzically, but didn’t press me for answers to her head full of questions.

Two blocks east found us walking up the steps to an elegant looking brownstone on a tree lined street. I rang the doorbell and was greeted by a stark naked woman with absolutely no body hair, even on her head. Her breasts had been scarred and she had a massive steel rod imbedded in both of her breasts at the rib cage, with tick steel brackets hanging under her tits, suspended from the rod. She wore rusted iron, not steel, shackles on both her wrists and ankles. Her wrists were connected by a six inch length of equally rusty iron chain, while her ankles were joined by an eighteen inch length of the same chain, which effectively hobbled her, restricting her walking. About her neck she wore a collar, also made of iron. All the iron on her body was held in place with old fashion iron key locks. Chafe marks could be seen, obviously cause by the heavy restraints.

“Yes?” she asked, seemingly unconcerned at all by her nakedness in front of two strangers.

“My name is David,” I told her, “And this is diana, My wife. Mistress Ilsa, I believe, is expecting us.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. “Please come in.”

Stepping aside, she held the door as we walked past her into the foyer. Then she closed and bolted the door after us.  “This way, please,” she said, walking down a hallway. The chain that bound her legs dragged across the parquet floor, making a loud clanking sound, not unlike some gothic horror movie sound effect.

We followed her into a dimly lit old fashioned parlor, where a woman was seated on a settee, presumably waiting for us.

“I am Ilsa,” she said, not bothering to get up.

She was around my age, possibly a bit older, quite thin, almost fragile looking.  Her short hair was mostly gray, and Her chiseled face was angular and lined. She was dressed in a brilliant white caftan, made of a very light weight fabric, which allowed the dark caps of Her smallish breasts to be visible through it. She was barefoot, and had rings on every finger of both hands as well as on a few toes.

“My name is David,” I said, leaning forward and shaking the hand She offered me, “And this is my wife, diana.”

Ilsa didn’t reply, She just eyeballed diana, head to foot.  “This is the slave you wish to collar as your own,” She asked me, not taking her eyes from diana?

“Yes, she is.”

“I see.” She looked at diana again, and diana’s face was registering high levels of discomfort. “Get undressed, slave! It is a primary and strict rule in My house that slaves are never hidden by clothing. I wish for you to be naked,” Ilsa commanded.

In a daze, diana looked first at me, unsure and embarrassed by her situation, and then back at Mistress Ilsa. “Obey Mistress Ilsa as you would Me,” said to her sternly.

“Yes, Master, sorry Mistress,” she said, her head facing downward.

She lifted the tank top over her head, exposing her chest. Next came the skirt, which she slid down her legs to her feet before stepping out of it. I hadn’t provided her with underwear, so it was just a matter of untying the straps on her sandals, and she was naked.

She stood where she was, facing Mistress Ilsa, but keeping her head down. She stood with her legs slightly apart, her hands at her sides, fighting the urge to cover herself before the scrutinizing stare of Ilsa’s cold dark eyes.

“Lesley neglected to inform me that she was branded,” She commented, looking at diana’s leg. “I like it. It suits her. Who did it?”

“I did, Mistress,” I said.

“Really? Nicely done,” she nodded as if granting Her approval.

“Now, please fill me in on what training your slave has had, David,” she said as she ran Her hand slowly up diana’s leg and felt the brand.

I explained our lifestyle to Her, how we had gotten back into it, and spoke of our times at the nude beach, as well as diana’s day in the woods in the Berkshires and our daughter’s torment of her as well. I told Ilsa about our dungeon that I had designed and built and some of the different apparatus we used. She didn’t react to anything I told her, She kept feeling diana’s brand and nodding occasionally as I spoke.

Over dinner, Ilsa explained some of the proceedings that would take place at the collaring ceremony. Ilsa sat at the head of the table, while I was seated to Her right. diana knelt on the floor and was neither fed, nor was she spoken to. All references to her were in the third person, like she was an inanimate object or not even present. Ilsa’s slave served the meal, the sound of her chains on the hard wood floors signaled both her approach and her leaving.

Mistress Ilsa  told me that she expected somewhere around twenty guests and that some would bring their slaves with them, while others would not. She explained that the setting would be very conducive to the occasion and that it would be a wonderful and memorable evening for all. diana and I should arrive by 3:00 in the afternoon. That would allow time to get My slave prepped for the ceremony, which was scheduled to begin at 6:00. We would be Her guests, of course, and were invited to stay the night with Her.

I thanked Her for Her generosity in hosting the event, and She said, “I’ve known Lesley quite a long time. There is no way I could turn down any request from Her. And besides, I do so much enjoy these formal rituals and never pass on an opportunity to host one.”

She was quiet as I said, “I have been looking forward to collaring My slave for quite a while now, and I am indebted to You for all Your help.”

Her slave entered the dining room at that moment and stood in the corner nearest Ilsa. Ilsa didn’t react to what I said, it was almost as if She wasn’t listening to Me. She looked directly at me when She asked, “Would you like to avail yourself of My slave?” She indicated the naked woman to Her right.

My eyes darted to the slave as they widened at Her suggestion, and I saw diana straighten up when she heard it.

“she has excellent oral skills, and she has been doing Kegel workouts for quite some time, which have given her cunt some unique attributes as well. Of course her ass is available for use as well.”

“With all due respect, Mistress Ilsa,” I said, somewhat  nervous and worried that I might offend My hostess with what I was about to say, “I am in a situation where My slave is My wife, and My lover, and My best friend, all at the same time. She took a vow as My wife, long before becoming My slave, and I took a similar vow as her husband at that same time. I have not ever, nor will I ever involve Myself sexually  with another woman.”

“Admirable, an utter waste, but admirable nonetheless. But You must realize that as her Owner it is within Your purview to do so.”

“Yes, I understand that,” I said, Her relaxed steady  tone easing My discomfort. “I made a commitment to her long before we entered into this past of our relationship and it is My intention to honor it.”

“As You wish,” She said, and then added, “But what about giving her to others? Is that something You might entertain?”

“Yes, it is.” I saw diana’s head droop as she heard My words. “What is Mine, what I own, is therefore Mine to do with as I please. As I might lend a book to a friend, or My car,............if it is a possession of Mine, then I am free to use it however I wish.

“While she is my wife, in her role as My slave, she is My possession, so therefore, I am free to give her to others for their use and enjoyment if I wish.”

“An interesting dichotomy, David,”Ilsa remarked, smiling wickedly.

diana and I didn’t stay very late. After some dessert and coffee, Ilsa’s slave escorted us back to the front door, where diana was presented with her clothes and told that she could get dressed.  Under the slave’s watchful eye, diana did as she was told. The slave unlatched the door, pulled it open, and said, “Good evening,” effectively ushering us out. We could hear the door being bolted behind us as we descended the steps.

We walked hand in hand back to the garage to pick up the car, not speaking of the evening. diana held my hand very tightly.  However, once we were in the car and out of the garage, diana turned in her seat and said, “She’s something else, David. I’ve never met anyone like Her. I can’t even think of words to describe Her.”

“Yes,” I concurred, already thinking ahead to the upcoming Saturday.

We drove up York to the FDR north. After passing the Triboro tolls, diana said, “Master, may i speak freely?”

“Yes, you may, slave,” I allowed, and then added, “But before you are allowed to, I wish you to travel the rest of the way home, naked. Strip yourself!”

Even at night, diana is never comfortable being naked in the car, especially when I take side streets with street lights and traffic lights to increase the odds of her nakedness being discovered. However, like the obedient slave she is, she removed her clothes and placed them on the back seat before speaking.

“Master,” she began, looking straight ahead, “Your slave is frightened by Mistress Ilsa. she is also fearful about what will be expected of her at the collaring ceremony.”

“Does that mean she is not willing to follow My wishes and be collared for Me?”

“No, no, Master. Not at all. Please forgive her insolence. It’s........it’s just that she is very nervous about what will happen to her. And..........”

“And what, slave?”

“And who the people are who will be there,” she admitted.

I didn’t respond right away, preferring to let her stew over telling me her concerns.

“I shouldn’t need to tell you this,” I began, “But I love you far more than words can express. I have loved you almost since the day we met. You know this.”

“Yes, Master. i do,” she acknowledged.

“With our Master and slave relationship, that love has become even more meaningful and deeper than I could ever have believed,” I continued.

“As it has for Your slave as well,” she agreed.

“It is important for Me, as your Master, to become your Owner. It will make our life as Master and slave even more committed.”

she didn’t speak, but I saw a slight nod of her head from the corner of My eye.

“In order for Me to fully own you, I must place My collar around your neck, permanently, as a visible sign that you are a possession.

“While it is true that I could collar you at home, in our dungeon, with just the two of us present, it wouldn’t have the anywhere near the same significance and memorable meaning to Me, or to you, or to us, as it will have as a formal ceremony in front of others who are lifestyle Masters and slaves.”

I let that sink in for a minute, as I passed a tour bus on our right. I turned the dome light on in the car, exposing diana to anyone in the bus who happened to look.                

The bus behind us, I turned off the light, and continued. “Marie has told me that Mistress Ilsa is one of the best known members of the New York D/s community. She has hosted collarings many times, and always makes each one a unique and special event.”

“May i ask something, Master,” she said softly, not yet over the bus passing.

“Will your sister be there?”

“Yes. Marie will be there, as will Lesley and Her slave, Carole. Beyond that, I don’t know if either you or I would know any of the guests.”

I ended it there, for a moment, as I maneuvered the car off the parkway and onto the exit ramp. When we reached the traffic light at the bottom of the ramp I said,, “Put your feet on the dashboard, slave, feet apart, and play with yourself!”

Obeying my command, diana put her feet up and placed her hand to her sex just as a mini van pulled up on my side. The street light was bright, bright enough for a middle aged mother in the passenger seat to see what was going on in our car. As soon as she realized what she was witnessing, she looked away. The light turned green and the mini van quickly shot ahead of us and up the street.

“What are you thinking, slave,” I asked her.

Without thinking, she removed her hand from her pussy. “Your slave wants to please her Master,” she began.

“Then why have you taken your hand from your cunt, slave” I interrupted her?  “Were you granted permission to stop playing with your cunt?”

“No Master,” she replied quickly, putting her hand back between her legs.

“Are you wet, slut,” I asked?

“Yes, Master. Very.”

“Then clean your fingers.”

I pulled over to the side of the road. We were only five blocks from our house. Of course I stopped under a street lamp.

diana licked her fingers, tasting herself.

“Finger your cunt again, slave.”

“Yes, Master.”

“As you were saying, slave?”

“Your slave wants nothing more than to please her Master,” she repeated. “And, even though she is very nervous,......even afraid,........of what is to come, she wants her Master to know that she loves Him very much, and will never disobey any order or command He gives her.”

“No matter what, slave.”

“No Sir. No matter what You command, Your slave will obey.”

“Very well then.

“Lean forward, hands behind your back!”

I removed the set of handcuffs I always store in the center console and affixed them to diana’s slender wrists. Reaching over her, I opened the car door and swung it wide open, turning on the dome light in the process.

Shocked, she turned to Me.

“For doubting My intentions, you will be punished when you get home. But first, I want you to return home, alone.

“Get out!”

Stunned, she turned toward  the open door, while scanning the street in all directions.

“Please, Master,” she pleaded.

I did not respond.

“Please,” she said again, softer, pleading, frightened.

“Is this the behavior of an obedient slave,” I mocked her?

I leaned over and  untied the straps of her sandals and placed them on the floor of the car at her feet.  Turning around in her seat, once again scanning the street in all directions before obeying Me and getting out of the car.

I didn’t wait for her to close the door. Instead, I sped off, tires spinning, making a lot of noise. In my rearview mirror, I saw her run for cover into some bushes as a few front porch lights snapped on to check on the commotion in the quiet neighborhood.

I was home and waiting for My slave in our dungeon for twenty-five minutes before I heard her come in through the back door. The front door was locked, but being ever thoughtful of My slave, I left the back door unlocked, with the light on for her.

I whipped her hard that night, very heard, probably harder than I ever had before, concentrating on her thighs, belly and breasts. She would have these marks still covering her at the ceremony on Saturday. I did not intend to whip her again before she was formally collared, so I was all the more severe that night.

After I unchained her from the St. Andrew”s Cross, where she had endured My lashes, I carried her from the dungeon to our master bath, and I drew a warm tub for her. I let her soak for half an hour before toweling her dry. We fucked that night with the ardor and passion of a couple of teenagers.

Sated and exhausted, we lay in each other’s arms. Just before we drifted off to sleep, diana said, “I will be proud to wear Your collar, Master.”

I kissed her on her shoulder, cupped her breasts and replied, “You will look even more beautiful collared.”