The Final Test

Anal

Ever since I had first met her at college on the second day of New Student Orientation, I had thought she looked beautiful and stunning. On this occasion, on this specific day, she looked even more beautiful and stunning than usual.

At the wedding, she had looked so elegant, the pure white dress accented by sequins which helped to further highlight her natural curves. Only the seriousness of what we were beginning, the seriousness of our mutual commitment before family and lifelong friends and longtime neighbors, had kept my full attention from her as I took in the words of the minister and made my vow to her in front of the gathered throng.

But finally, the party was behind us, and it was finally time to consummate our marriage – not that we had not enjoyed the pleasures of each other’s bodies previously, but finally, at least in the eyes of our respective parents, we could do it officially.

It was also to be the beginning of her slavery, just as it was to be the beginning of My dominance of her.

As the small tabletop fountain bubbled softly in one corner of the elegant hotel room, she knelt before Me, her body barren of all clothing and even jewelry, including her newly-acquired wedding ring. For the first time since I had met her, I saw her truly wearing nothing, not even earrings. That was perfect, for it represented a pristine beginning, a true start to her official service to Me, with the previous six years simply the lead-up, the training, the preview of what was to come in the years and decades ahead.

Behind her was the alcove with the dual-tub Jacuzzi, which was already filled with hot water. As she had been trained over the previous few years, she knelt with her knees spread and her forearms crossed against her lower back, her chest thrust forward and the base of her chin horizontal with the floor. Her chestnut hair cascaded down her back as she looked up at Me with such an exquisite expression of love and devotion that I wanted to skip past all this and make love to her right there on the floor.

But that was not to be. Fully dressed, I stood tall before her, holding in My hands the thin decorative box which she had seen only once previously, nearly three years earlier, when she had selected the collar she wanted to receive when the marriage had been officially begun, for it would also signal the official beginning of her slavery.

“I believe it is finally time,” I said, “not because the date has finally arrived, but because you have truly earned the right to wear this collar for Me. I’m actually sorry that I couldn’t grant you this collar well before tonight, but I definitely wanted to honor the agreement you and I had made when you declared that you wanted to truly become My slave.”

A nod of understanding was her only response. That was more than sufficient, for I did not have many formal rules for her – no need to use “Master” or “Sir” with every utterance or response (although she often did), no need to avert her eyes from My face unless told otherwise, no need to ask permission to sit on the furniture, not even any need to be always naked when in My presence.

There was, however, one rule which was absolute, one which for this particular night needed to be rescinded. “For tonight,” I told her, “you do not need to hold back your orgasms. Until sunrise, you may cum without permission, as often as you want.”

A small smile spread across her unpainted lips. No clothing, no jewelry, no make-up. Only her body, her mind, her heart, and her love. “Thank You, Master.”

My smile mirrored hers. “Rise,” I commanded, and she did, keeping her forearms crossed behind her, the many years of ballet evident in how languidly she rose to her feet even without using her hands for support.

The height difference was still quite striking kırşehir escort as I towered over her. “I’m already proud to call you My wife,” I informed her, “but I’m even more proud to call you My slave.”

The smile was accompanied by an instinctive batting of her eyes.

I opened the long thin box, allowing her to see the symbol of her slavery, the mark of My ownership of her. The gasp of delight was soft, almost too soft to be heard, but it brought a proud smile to My lips nonetheless.

“There is one thing to be done, however,” I informed her, “before you may actually wear it.”

With a nod, she whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

I left the box partially open and moved to the alcove, crawling on the raised tile and setting it in the far left corner before returning to her, standing behind her for a moment and caressing her upper arms and her shoulders. “Are you ready for this?” I asked.

“Ready, Master,” she replied.

“Good.”

After giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, I left her, crossing the small main room of the hotel suite and searching in one of My bags. A moment later, I produced what she would be wearing as she received the collar for the first time: brand-new metal handcuffs. When I turned to her to show her, her eyes opened wide, her mouth forming an actual grin.

I made My way around the king-size bed and moved behind her. “Unfold your arms,” I instructed, and she did, positioning her wrists close together behind her so that I could apply the cuffs. I heard her make a soft contented sound as each wrist was bound by the metal, and that was when I knew that she was definitely in the proper headspace and not just simply going through the motions.

In a selfish moment, I pressed Myself against her, My hands reaching around her to grope her breasts. Not surprisingly, she moved her hands to stroke Me through My slacks even as she arched her back to force more of her breasts into My palms. I could hear her breathing starting to change, not just in speed, but in tone. While I tried to focus My attention on giving her a little pleasure, I was thoroughly enjoying her touches, her fingers tried to grip My manhood through the clothes, how she used a single palm to rub up and down.

But I did not allow the selfishness to last too long, for there would be many, many more opportunities for selfishness in the future. Instead, there was something far more serious, something far more bonding, to be done.

Grasping her upper arms again, I carefully turned her to face the alcove and slowly guided her toward the awaiting filled dual-tub Jacuzzi. Since she did not have the use of her hands for support, I took great care with her in helping her to step into the end where the two tubs met and then kneel, her ultimate position forcing the metal handcuffs below the water’s surface. “Um… Won’t the water corrode the cuffs?” she asked with a glance back at Me.

“Maybe,” I replied, “but for this, it’s worth it.”

With a nod, she fell silent, her head turned to watch as I rolled up the sleeves of My shirt. Only then did I finally remove My watch and wedding band, setting both on the small table before returning to the alcove and sitting on the tile at the top of the left tub.

“Come forward,” I said, adding an appropriate gesture. Shuffling on her knees, she obeyed, her eyes full of curiosity and love and devotion and trust.

That trust was critical, for it was the ultimate test.

“There’s one thing I’ve wanted to do to you for a long, long time,” I said softly but firmly as I caressed her cheek, “and I believe that now is finally the time for it.”

“Anything, Master,” she responded just as softly.

“Good.” I moved My hand to the back of her head, My fingers intertwining with her kocaeli escort hair, and nudged her head slowly forward and downward.

Although I had never spoken with her about the details of this collaring ceremony beyond the fact that she would need to wear nothing at all, not even jewelry, when the ceremony began, I had a feeling that she was expecting this final test of her trust in Me. I had previously shown her some online video clips and stories about women being choked, strangled, held under water, bagged, and otherwise made to struggle to properly breathe, but had never done any such activities with her, purposely saving it for both this moment and, if she agreed, for an activity to perform with her from time to time throughout her slavery so that she could hopefully endure longer and longer periods without proper oxygen reaching her lungs.

I noted how her mouth opened wide, heard the loud inhalation, and then saw her lips suddenly clamp firmly shut in that final half-second before her face was submerged. Yet still I forced her head downward, causing her torso to arch nicely, the handcuffs keeping her wrists behind her so that she could not fight her way up out of the water and breathe normally again. In short, just hours after becoming a wife, on the night she was to become a slave at last, her life was quite literally in My total control.

I watched and listened with keen interest. Given that there was a hospital only a block away from the hotel, it was perfectly ominous to suddenly hear the siren of an ambulance approaching the area, and I was fairly certain that she could hear it even though her entire head was submerged in the fairly warm water of the Jacuzzi. I saw a shiver, a slight trembling of her back, and felt something similar from the back of her head. The long slender fingers which had graced the keys of many pianos over the years were fidgeting. The sound of the siren grew louder as the ambulance approached, and her head began to turn, requiring Me to exert a little pressure to ensure she knew that she was to keep her head submerged until I allowed her head to rise clear of the water.

There was no doubt that she was starting to suffer. Suffering was not an unknown state for her, for she enjoyed the paddles and the spankings and the clamps and the tight ropes. I knew that she adored the inflatable vaginal and anal dildos stretching her uncomfortably. Certainly she found a perverse pleasure in having the canes or the bullwhip battering her body. I would even suggest that her enjoyment of being tortured with severe levels of electric current slicing through her body very nearly matched My enjoyment of watching and listening to her struggling and screaming from the fierce agony.

This form of suffering, however, was entirely new to her. While she was no stranger to fighting her instincts, such as her instinct to orgasm from continual stimulation, this was the first time that she had to fight her instinct to do something which would keep her alive.

I could tell that she was struggling mentally to prevent herself from struggling physically, for in such situations her hands would tend to fidget, and in this case, her hands were moving faster and faster with each passing second. While I had not been counting and did not have My watch available to note the passage of time, I suspected that already ten seconds had elapsed since her face had been initially submerged. The shaking of her body was a little more pronounced, causing noticeable waves in both Jacuzzi tubs even though I had purposely not turned on the underwater jets.

Using her hair for leverage, I pulled, knowingly hurting her as I forced her head up out of the water. Instead of a sound of pain, there were the sounds of water cascading from her head and upper body konya escort accompanied by both the sound of her loud inhalation and the sound of the ambulance almost directly below the window en route to the nearby hospital. Holding her by the hair, My free hand reached forward to quickly grope a breast before both hands then pushed her head back downward, back under the water’s surface, back to where she could not breathe unless she had hidden gills which I had not yet discovered. Within a few heartbeats, she was fidgeting again, and within a few more heartbeats, she began to struggle physically at last, her head turning from side to side and trying to push up against the pressure from My hands while her torso began to twist from side to side. The physical struggle caused the water to slosh, some of it landing on the flat tile at the top of the Jacuzzi tubs, a little of it wetting My slacks, yet still I held her head in place, still I denied her the opportunity to refill her lungs with fresh air, still I enjoyed her unusual form of suffering and wished that I had a third hand just so I could gently touch Myself through the slacks as I watched the most important person in My life suffering in this new way for Me.

With both hands, I pulled on her hair again, holding her head just above the surface of the motional water, allowing her to breathe rapidly several times before plunging her head into the wet depths once more. This time, there was no period of fidgeting, simply pure, instinctive struggle, a fight for self-preservation which required Me to use more and more strength to hold her underwater before finally pulling her head upward so she could breathe once again.

After seven such prolonged dunkings, I pulled her head until she was kneeling with her back almost perfectly vertical. As she breathed rapidly and loudly, as the water sluiced down her body, I maintained the pressure on her hair, and when she finally at last made a small sound of pain between her fast and heavy breaths, I was satisfied at last.

“Congratulations, slave,” I said proudly, My voice a little louder to ensure that she could hear those precious words.

There was no doubt that she had indeed heard those precious words, for her eyes glanced up toward Me and, even though she was still breathing fast and hard, even though her scalp was still hurting because of My grip on her hair, she was smiling.

I greatly lessened My hold on her hair, ending the pain and repositioning Myself on the tile. Once her breathing had slowed considerably, I finally kissed her, releasing her hair at last and gently caressing her body. The response from her was enthusiastic, escalating the kiss from one of sweet reward to passionate desire.

But before the passionate desire could be realized, there was one final element of the ceremony to be performed. With a bit of reluctance, I drew back from her, but it was so that I could reach for one of the towels the hotel had provided by the Jacuzzi, so that I could dry her head and her hair and her upper torso. Once that was completed, I set the towel aside and reached for the small thin decorative box which contained her slave collar.

No more would she wear the thick, bulky training collar. Instead, she would wear the thin, bejeweled collar, the one worth nearly twice as much as her wedding ring, yet the price was not what mattered. What mattered was that it would be her, My slave, wearing the collar daily, removing it only when it might get wet or when she would be around people who would not understand either the collar’s significance or why she would ever willingly agree to be a sexual slave.

On command, in the area where the two tubs joined, she turned to face away from Me so that I could adorn her with the collar she had most definitely earned over the previous few years. At last, she was both a wife and a slave, and once I had finally undressed, I stepped into the Jacuzzi with her, bent her over the edge with her chest resting on the cool wet tile, and consummated both the marriage and her slavery to Me, very much glad that I had rescinded her prime rule for the night.

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