He bought me a new collar today. Black leather with a silver ring, heavy enough to remind me of my place when he clips the leash. The weight feels like a promise. I used to dream of gold necklaces in Moscow, the kind rich women wore. This is better. It means I belong to someone who can afford to keep me.

He tested it immediately. Pulled me to the bedroom, pushed me onto the bed, and fucked my ass while yanking the collar back. My throat burned, my tits pressed into the silk sheets, and his other hand bruised my hip. I came so hard I screamed. The pain and the pleasure are tangled now, like the leather around his fist.

Sometimes I catch my reflection wearing it and I don't recognize the woman staring back. But then I feel the leather, remember the stretch of his cock in my ass, and I know this is exactly where I was meant to be. The price was my freedom, but the reward is this delicious surrender.