It wasn’t even *his* collar. It was one of mine. I have several. So many. I used to get them for free.
They’re accessories, not statements.
But when things were getting difficult for me with having to share his time with somebody else, when he started being gone three to four days at a time and I was having trouble functioning (because at the time he’d trained me to be completely reliant on him to function) he thought it would be best to “dial back the D/s” in our relationship.
That’s not what I wanted, but it’s what he thought was best and he was the Dom. We negotiated.
In the end it was decided that when I was wearing a collar, it was play time and he was “Sir.” Without a collar on, he was my boyfriend and I was his girlfriend and we were a regular ol’ couple without any power exchange.
Again, this was not what I wanted, but what he thought was best.
A few weeks later, we were at the supermarket. I was not wearing a collar. He playfully reached over and pinched my ass, *hard.*
I slapped his hand away. He reached for me again and I ran from him.
He got angry with me. Grabbed my wrist. “Hey,” he chastised me sternly.
If you didn’t know this about me, you might as well understand this now. I can communicate quite palpably through my eyes. I’m pretty sure my glare actually caused him to wince.
I twisted my wrist away from him and stood my ground.
“Is there a collar on my neck right now? NO. I am your girlfriend right now, not your submissive. YOU wanted this.”
Later that night with the collar on, I was quite happy to serve him and “Sir” him all he wanted, but he knew better than to dare try to punish me for that incident in the supermarket.
I will hold my dominant to his own rules.
That’s just how I roll.
polyammering 