The Red Corset

Two years ago, just before what would turn out to be our last "tributed" session, she told me I was expected to buy her a gift. A couple of weeks earlier, under her watchful eye and at her direction I had bought myself a CB-3000. Despite my need to conserve capital for the start-up of my own business, she allowed as to how if I could afford a chastity device for myself I could certainly afford to buy her a little gifty.

She provided ample warning, but the day before our session she let me know I was to be ready to purchase her present. This caught me flatfooted. I had not been piggy banking enough scratch to cover my tribute and the pressie. But I was desperate not to disappoint her. A trip to the ATM was out of the question, but like a cornered rat I realized I had massive amounts of change laying around my office and my apartment. I became a quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies rolling machine. After working feverishly, I came up with close to my hourly rate, but had to drag some rolled coins along with me when I met her as I had not made it to the bank to exchange all my shrapnel for skrilla.

We went to Purple Passion. There, she picked out a bright, beautiful, Asian design corset with ornate silver hooks in the front and serious tight-lacing action up the back. She tried it on in the store over her clothing - the salesperson tugging mightily on the laces. She just looked stunningly gorgeous. She loved that I paid for it partly with rolled coinage. She laughed and said I'd no doubt pulled my bequeathing money from between sofa cushions. I forked over the dough eagerly and couldn't wait to see "my gift to her" in the dungeon! However, she had other plans.

When she appeared in our room for playtime, she was wearing black retro lingerie. Absolutely a fave but it was not the oh-so-red-hot corset I had just purchased for "her". She scoffed at my question about whether she was going to wear it and said she was saving it for a real man. She proceeded to describe just what she planned to do with the not-me-guy in lusty, nasty detail, faning my cuckolding fire. I never asked about the corset again.

Four months later she left New York on her great adventure. During her preparation to leave she described for me how she'd given away great pile loads of clothing. Blouse after skirt after lingerie set - gifts - most with the tags still on. Then, almost everything she wanted to keep went into one of those pods. When she left town she'd pared down to bare essentials for the intrepid journey.

Two weeks ago, during her visit to New York, she bought me a collar. A beautiful, wide, black leather band with a smaller red strip attached for the buckle eyes. She surprised me with it. I had so much wanted her collar. I had asked to be hers and she'd said yes. She attached the leather around my neck and described how she'd fussed and obsessed to get the length just so and make sure it had a doo-hickey for a lock. Once she had it on me ever so precisely she stepped back and smiled. She said it would match the corset I had given her perfectly for our night out at Paddles. She just slayed me ... totally off the chain.

My eyes tear up as I write this. It's hard for her to tell me how much I like to hope she loves me. But that right there ... that do show somethin'.

She asked me back to her room after our trip to Paddles. I was so happy ... 'cos I feel fractured from the fall and I just wanna go home ... with her.