Author: Old Softy
Title: The Collar Around the Heart
Summary: James is sixteen today, and his birthday present is pretty unusual. But the future is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Keywords: mf ScFi rom 1st slave bd oral anal
Part: Chapter 10 of 14

Chapter 1 is at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/The_Collar_around_the_Heart/The_Collar_1.txt

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains sexual situations not 
suitable for children. It may not be reproduced in any way where 
readers are charged for it. Copyright reserved Old Softy 2007 

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Chapter 10 - Saturday Morning

I was slow to wake, and when I did open my eyes, sunlight was once
again flooding into the room. Someone had opened the curtains. It was
Saturday, I remembered, so I was in no hurry, and I yawned with the
luxurious slow stretch of someone who knows the alarm is turned off.
This time I remembered Annie, and looked for her. Sure enough, she was
kneeling at the end of the bed, and there was the breakfast steaming
gently.

"Morning, Boss!" she welcomed me cheerfully, lifting the tray. I
laughed at the sight of her and her burden.

"How do you manage it? How do you manage to have a three-minute boiled
egg cooked to perfection, ready for me the moment I wake up?"

"Trade secret, Boss" she replied cheekily. "Do you want to visit the
bathroom first?"

"Hmmmph. A collarmaid can get too cheerful for her own good around
here. We might have to do something about that."

"Yes please, Boss!" she replied eagerly, her eyes following me across
to the toilet. It was no longer embarrassing to relieve myself in front
of her, and I let her clean me off without even thinking about it. Well,
without being surprised by it, anyway. The feeling of her soft lips and
mobile tongue was definitely something to notice. "Mmmmm, mmmmmm." She
was getting into more than just cleaning, now, and as my penis
stiffened in response she gave a quick daring glance up at me before
starting to bob her head.

"Gah, hey stop that! I haven't had breakfast yet." The wet slurp was
audible as she reluctantly pulled her mouth off me.

"What about my breakfast, Boss?"

"I thought you had cereal downstairs with Geoffrey?"

"Oh, yes, but I haven't had my liquid protein breakfast, Boss."

"You cheeky little thing!" I scolded, but I could not help laughing.
"Anyway, I do not like my boiled egg cold and solid, so I'm going to
resist your charms long enough to do justice to this lot, and you are
going to behave yourself."

"Yes, Boss," she replied, and demurely got to work on serving up the
goods. I could not help wondering however, if that amount of knicker
flashing was strictly unavoidable.

When I had finished and she had cleared away, I was not surprised when
she came over to stand by my side. But now she now looked quite serious
for some reason, almost worried.

"Boss, can I say something?"

"Yes, of course," I replied, waving my hand magnanimously. In my
current mood she could do whatever she wanted.

"Boss, it's just... I feel upset that you never got to take my
virginity. As my first Master, it should have been yours, and I want to
make it up to you."

What a funny little thing she was. "Look there is not much we can do
now, so don't worry about it. I don't see how I can ask you to be any
more attentive than you already are."

"But, Boss, there is something we can do. I am still a virgin in one
way."

"I don't understand. What do you mean?" After the last couple of days,
if this young woman was any sort of virgin, I was a Dutchman.

"My bottom. My... my anal virginity." She blushed, looking remarkably
endearing. "I've even got the equipment. The man in the collar shop let
me have it last night. He was very helpful, and he told me all about how
to do it. He said if we bring it back unused, you won't have to pay, but
if we use it..."

How the hell did she manage that without me seeing, I wondered?

"That was a bit cheeky, giving you stuff I had not seen, even on
sale-or-return." I muttered, prevaricating for time. I was completely
bemused by the girl — this collarmaid would never cease to amaze me.
I wondered vaguely what "equipment" meant; and was I going to go along
with this? Although I had heard that really perverted people sometimes
did that sort of thing, it was not something I had ever imagined. Then
the memory swam back; the feeling of my middle finger exploring Annie's
hot soft bowels yesterday while that tight ring of muscle held on to it.

What the hell, why not explore everything while she was around?

It took only a few minutes for her to get out what turned out to be an
enema kit and some of that lubricating gel I had seen him use in doing
the examination in the shop. Annie had obviously already studied the
instructions, and was stripped off and ready to go before I could get
out of my pyjamas.

Kneeling on the tiled floor of the shower alcove, she laid the stuff
out in front of her. Without ceremony, she brought the nozzle to her
anus, and tried to push it in, but the sphincter was clearly resisting.
As she twisted round I could see her working the plastic probe at her
pink rosebud until she managed to get the tip in. She frowned and
squirmed a little as she pushed it deeper into her rectum. Annie
released the clip and handed the bag up to me.

"You should do this, Master," she explained in a curiously husky voice.
Concerned, but also strangely excited, I held up the bag and gently
squeezed it. As I watched the cold fluid flow up the tube into her
body, I wondered how it would feel inside her. Her eyes widened then
her face fell into a faraway expression as her bowels accepted the slow
intrusion. Fortunately the grip of her sphincter around the nozzle was
so tight that no liquid escaped.

As soon as the bag was empty, Annie reached out for it, then stretched
round to hold the nozzle in her anus while she hustled on wobbly legs
over to the w.c. My eyes followed her, too fascinated to be
embarrassed, and watched her squat over the toilet then reach between
her legs to work the nozzle loose. She let out a moan (of relief or
pleasure?) as a stream of dirty water shot out of her rectum and into
the bowl. The flow continued for several seconds and then slowed to a
trickle, running down the crack of her bottom. Grabbing the toilet
paper, she carefully cleaned herself, then looked up at me.

"Whew. That was weird, Boss. It's made me feel... well, anyway, are you
ready to use me now?" Annie walked only a little strangely as she headed
for the bed. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled up the
covers, then waved her sweet bottom in the air, knowing she was being
provocative.

"Are you certain about this?"

The back of her head nodded, vigorously. As I knelt behind her on the
bed she spread a large glob of the lubricant on her fingers, and
reached behind to transfer it to her own crack. She shuddered
involuntarily as I stroked my fingers experimentally over her bottom
cheek, and then froze as I gently pressed a finger against her
sea-anemone sphincter. With only a wriggle I got the tip in, and
gradually I inserted more of my finger into her. It felt extraordinary
to be exploring the inside of her bowels. I extracted my finger then
grabbed the tube myself and used it to spread some of the slippery
substance onto two fingers. It took longer to get both past the elastic
muscle of her reluctant sphincter, and I was careful to be guided by her
winces.

Her insides were stretching because although that ring of oiled silk
still gripped my knuckles, I could slide them in and out now. She was
as warmed up as she was going to get, and the whole affair was actually
starting to look possible. I applied another generous dollop of
lubricant to my shaft, which by now was rock-hard. Annie shivered again
with anticipation as I grabbed her hips and gently pressed the tip of my
cock against her rear entrance.

"You sure it won't hurt?" I ask her.

She replied by looking over her shoulder with a nod, but I could tell
she didn't really know. Fighting my own sense of urgency, I began to
lean forward firmly but cautiously. Suddenly it gave way and my cock
head slipped past the ring and into her. That lubricating stuff really
worked. It felt so tight as it gripped the rim of my prick that I
paused for a moment. She grunted impatiently and I leaned into her
again and watched in amazement as it slowly disappeared between her
cheeks. Occasionally she let out a small whimper and I paused until she
nodded again. It took several minutes but finally I had inserted my
entire length into her rectum. I stopped to admire the sight of her
body impaled on my penis, her bottom a pair of soft ripe globes split
by my organ. It was all so tight and warm and clinging that I closed my
eyes to revel in the sensation.

"You still alright?" I managed to ask with a tinge of concern.

"Oh, yes, Master. So full, so full," she groaned in reply.

Feeling more confident, I very slowly began moving in and out of my hot
little servant. I didn't want to rush things and ruin it. At first she
just moved with me, but soon she was meeting each of my thrusts with a
thrust of her own.

She was grunting and mumbling "Yes... yes... push... push..." in time
to the thrusts. Unbelievably, she wanted more, so I gradually increased
the strength of each push into her tight rectum. The pressure of her
anal muscles against my throbbing member combined with the moist heat
of her bowels. A fog of pleasure descended on me.

I could just hear Annie mutterings getting louder. I hoped it was in
pleasure, but now I could not control myself. With my cock buried deep
inside her I clutched her to me and shoved and shoved and shoved,
before finally convulsing in the three eruptions that emptied my balls
into her insides.

"Aaaaaah Maaaaaster!" she cried. We collapsed together on the bed and I
slumped back motionless.

My limp prick pulled out as our bodies separated. Almost immediately
Annie wriggled around to face me. "Was it alright, Boss?"

I laughed helplessly at her anxious need for reassurance. "It wasn't
alright, it was stupendous, amazing, mind-blowing." I kissed her
forehead but her face disappeared as she slid down the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Just have to... mmmmh... clean up... like a good collar..." her lips
were around my softening shaft and she was licking and slurping it
shiny wet and clean.

"Annie, you don't have to do that!" I remonstrated but it was too late.
Her grin as she looked up at me betrayed her glee at doing a nasty job
for me despite my objections.

We took a shower together, and it was fun to override her reluctance to
have me do anything for her. My pleasure at cleaning out her little
personal corners was only matched by having her naked body so close to
me. Yes, it was sexy, having her breasts and buttocks and arms brushing
against my skin all the time. But it was also natural and sweet.

Above all it was so easy when it was my turn; to enjoy the whole
experience while my hair and body were washed and dried and dressed for
me. Everything she did for me seemed right somehow, without her ever
getting in the way or pushing me around.

"I could get used to this," I thought, as I sat back in my armchair and
watched her doing up my shoe buckles. No, I was already used to this. It
was not the sex — well, alright, part of it was the sex — but now I
would really miss having her around. For some reason, a picture from
that silly little book slipped into my head, of a single rose under a
glass bell. What was that cumbersome phrase? "It is only with the heart
that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

I stared at the top of her head as she struggled with the last buckle.
The ones at the top were slightly too small, and they were always a
bastard to do up. The tip of her tongue was just visible from my angle,
poking out as she concentrated. He was right — she just fitted. No,
more than that, she had tied herself to me in ways that I would never
understand. I could hear Sam Weller's gruff voice echoing, "It's not
the collar round the neck that matters; it's the collar around the
heart."

Was I really going to let that overgrown ape Murdoch ruin this for us?
And who was Liz to tell me who I could or couldn't have around me? The
more I thought about it, the more I was determined. I had no idea how,
except for knowing that it would not be easy. But she was worth it.

"Annie," I called softly, and she looked up. "Do you really want to
stay with me?"

She gasped, wide-eyed, then swallowed and nodded vigorously as if
unable to trust her voice.

"Even if it meant we could no longer have sex together?"

She slowly nodded again, less certain this time, and then found her
voice. "Yes, Boss. Anything to stay with you. But what would you do for
relief, Boss?" Then, her mind working, she nodded to herself. "Oh. You
have found a lady. You are going to get married... of course, Boss."
Amazingly, the smile on her face was not diminished. She did not seem
the least disappointed at the thought.

"No, I have no intention of getting married, not yet anyway. But there
is a girl — she would be my mistress, I suppose — and I know it
will be difficult enough to get her to accept you, never mind if we
were sleeping together. But if you want it, then I will keep you on as
my maid, even if we have to keep our hands off each other."

"Boss I will do anything you want, be anything you want. I can't
believe I might get to stay with you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
And before I could stop her she was hugging my knees, and pressing her
cheek to my thighs.

"Hey, alright, you are happy! I get it! Now let me go so we can get
downstairs."

She glowed. Even from the back, as she slipped in front of me to open
the doors as we made our way to the dining room, I could see she
glowed. Yes, she was worth it, even if it made out my parents to be
right. I sighed. Well, there would be another bike, some other time.
After all, in two years I would be rich enough to buy whatever I
fancied.

I had no regrets, but now I would have to break it to Liz. She would
kick up a stink, but I was determined to be firm about this. Perhaps
tomorrow, though, I thought. I had plenty on my plate with the Ball
coming up, and one unpleasant task per day was enough.

And then — Murdoch. My Father's words came back to me. It was no good
pretending that I would not have to deal with the bastard at some stage.
On Monday I would damn well face him down. Quite what would happen next
— well, damn it, I would worry about that on Monday.

Despite the storm clouds no doubt heading my way, I was feeling
ridiculously cheerful. I had not realised what a shadow that decision
had been, lurking in the back of my mind for the last few days. Now it
was made, for good or for ill, and once again I felt like a
sixteen-year-old boy with the world at his feet.

Nothing lasts. As I wandered towards the dining room and more
breakfast, whistling tunelessly, my Mother nabbed me. "James, we need
to talk. Now." She needed it more than I did, I thought grumpily as I
allowed myself to be led off to her private parlour, but I said nothing
aloud. I knew Annie was waiting for me in the dining room, and I could
smell the bacon from the hallway, so this had better be quick, I
muttered to myself.

You would have thought that, as the parlour of the mistress of the
house, this room would be full of frills and frippery, but it was
actually uncluttered, and the pastel colours of the fabrics and walls
gave it a light and airy feel. Against my prejudices, I rather liked
being in there.

I sat on the small sofa, and studied the silver buckles on my shoes
while I waited for the pep talk to begin. She leapt in with no
prevarication. "James, why do you think we chose to give you a collar
for your birthday?"

I bit back the obvious answer, that they had a perverse wish to thwart
my every desire, and muttered inaudibly.

She sighed and started again. "Look, a week ago you were a complete
misogynist. Even you would have admitted that. Now Marjory Jones tells
me you actually made a social call on Penelope on Thursday night. And
that you were very charming to Mr Jones and her afterwards!"

I frowned. I should have known that it would get out. "I just had to
see Penny about something. It was hardly a social occasion."

"Never mind the reason. Could you have done it, if owning that
collarmaid had not brought you out of your shell?"

How perverse and how ironic, I thought to myself, for in a weird way
she was right — if I had not had the humiliation of those three
witches laughing at poor Annie I would not have been so rude to them,
and Penny would not have asked to see me. Which, although I hated to
admit it, had not been altogether a bad thing. And now, my Mother had
obviously set herself the task of convincing me to keep Annie on, just
when she did not need to.

"I'm keeping her."

"And you of all people must admit that the meals around here have taken
a sea change for the better since it stepped in the kitchen."

"I'm keeping her!"

"And I have not seen you look so... what?"

It was immensely satisfying to watch her expression, indeed almost
worth the chagrin of giving in to them. "Look, I'm keeping the
collarmaid, all right? And I'm going to your Ball!"

My Mother recovered her equilibrium with remarkable speed. "James, I...
Thank you."

"Just don't expect me to fit in with your matchmaking schemes, that's
all," I added quickly.

"But what have you got against going out with girls? I mean, what do
think the whole point of getting married is?"

I groaned, but decided to take the question seriously. I supposed I
owed her that much. "Well, she gets a home, and money and children I
suppose, and..."

"No, James," she interrupted with enforced patience. "What do you get
out of it?"

I hesitated, unwilling to voice the obvious answer to my Mother.

"And, no, I don't mean sex either, although I know you probably can't
see past that for now. Even you must know that you don't have to marry
to find a woman for that. No, James, the point is that you get someone
to look after you,"

"Expensive housekeeper," I muttered.

"... someone to look after you," she ploughed on, glaring, "but more
importantly, to look after the social side of your life. And yes," she
marched on ignoring my open mouth. "I know you think you will never be
interested in that. But how do you think you will make your way in the
world, when so much depends on whom you know, and how much you impress
them? Every successful man has a partner running his social life in the
background."

Or the foreground, I thought to myself, thinking darkly of my parents.
"I will be getting all my advancement on technical merit, thank you.
Why, don't you think I am good enough?" I demanded.

"James, I have read every school report you have ever had, and I have
no doubt that if any exam contained mathematical symbols or a circuit
diagram, then you could pass it. But that's not enough."

"Why not? It should be."

"And the world should be fair, and we should all be offered happiness
without having to fight for it. Our husbands should cherish us and our
children should honour us, and there ought to be fairies at the bottom
of the garden."

I stared at her, perturbed by the sudden tiredness in her voice. The
fire had completely gone out of my Mother, and I was not used to the
middle-aged woman who had taken her place.

Although I could not admit my doubts to her, I had occasionally worried
about how it was going to be, myself. In my mind I liked to think that
advancement and success would all be about how good you were at your
profession — but what if she was right? If my future was going to
depend to any extent on impressing the boss's wife, then I was sunk.

She turned away from me, looking at the large painting over the
mantelpiece — the double portrait they had commissioned when they had
returned from their honeymoon. Her voice softened.

"A marriage might seem unattractive now, when you think you have the
world at your feet, but life catches up with you faster than you think.
Being middle-aged and by yourself is very lonely. And no, I still don't
mean sex. I mean..." she shrugged, "someone to share your home and your
hopes with."

"What, like you and Father?" I retorted, not bothering to keep the
scorn out of my voice.

She looked surprisingly hurt, and I almost regretted the attack.
"Despite everything, he has never been unfaithful to me, you know."

"What! How can you say that when every Friday he goes in for a Dress
Down day and shafts half the collarsecs in his office! You were sitting
with me in the restaurant when he was fondling that collarwait."

"Oh, yes but collars don't count. That's just masturbation, with a
collar attached. He has never taken a mistress or even a companion, and
most importantly, he has never looked at another lady." Despite her
brave words, I could tell there was something wrong.

"It wasn't always like this, you know. Yes, I was once sixteen,
although you cannot imagine it. I carried a big dowry, and he was a
good match but it was not just the money when we first met. Back then,
our friends used to tease us that we were joined at the hip. We did
everything together, not because it was expected, but because we wanted
to." She paused, and I waited, not wanting to interrupt her in this
mood.

"But it all changed when his father died. You must remember; you were
about eight. We got the fone message that he was ill while we were
still on that holiday in Normandy. That's why we had to cut it short."

Funny, I had not remembered the details of how that holiday ended,
other than the fiasco with the rabbit, of course. For some reason my
throat was feeling tight.

"But, that was later, wasn't it?"

"No, the funeral was later, but he died the week after we got back."

"But wait, Grandpa was sick, but it was Flopsy that died. I should
remember!"

"Ah yes, your rabbit. Poor little thing. In all the worry with your
Grandfather's illness, we forgot all about the bunny.[1] But your
Father could never understand why you were more upset about a rabbit
than about his own father. I am afraid I don't think he ever quite saw
you in the same light afterwards."

This odd tense feeling was gripping the whole of my chest now.

"You didn't tell me!"

"Tell you what?"

"That Grandpa was dying!"

"James, it is a difficult thing to say to a child, particularly
when..." She stopped, frowning, and then started again. "You were
always such a secretive boy. I can't say I understood you even then.
And you just would not admit that there was anything wrong; you were so
fierce about it. Maybe I should have spelt it out more forcefully,
but..." Her sigh was heartfelt, and my anger dissolved into confusion.
She was not tired, I realised, but sad. How strange, that my Mother
could ever be sad.

I stared at her, silent, while ancient memories assailed me: corridors
full of strangers with shiny floors that smelt funny; the echoes of
brisk footsteps, while women in starched uniform dresses evaded my
questions and told me that Mummy would be along soon; the memory of red
eyes in familiar faces stretched with forced smiles; the echoes of
reassuring words falling from tired lips in grey voices.

"I didn't know."

"James, of course you knew. What did you think happened to him?"

We never visited Grandpa any more after that holiday. What had I
thought? I had never thought at all of course. All my life I had
refused to think of anything that might have threatened my little
world. My blank silence was all the answer I could give her.

"I am afraid your Father and I rather fell out afterwards. He started
using collarsecs for sex and he just gave the Geoffrey to me as a
present when I complained. That was the one thing I regret, accepting
that I should use the Geoffrey, but at the time I was so angry. And
now..."

"Surely it is not too late. I mean, do you still... have you..." How do
you ask your Mother if she still ever gets it on with your Father? But I
didn't have to. She shook her head morosely and I did not have to ask
what it meant.

"Then why don't you tell him what you feel?"

"Hah. He would not look at me now. Too much water under the bridge, and
too many lines on this face."

This was just too much. My Mother had always been — I don't know —
an implacable force of nature and now she was a person, revealing her
weakness in front of me. I could not cope. Silently I rose, and stepped
towards the door, intending to be gone before she raised her head. But
the weight in my chest was not for me; it was for her. I had to say
something. "Mum, you don't know that. Hell, I can't give you advice,
but... I can give you that doubt. He may think more of you than you
know. "

I closed the door very quietly as I left.

Those of you who have more imagination than I, have no doubt spotted
the flaw in my little scheme for taking Annie to the ball ages ago, and
have been quietly laughing at me since. I had a lot on my mind, all
right?

Annie had just finished clearing the dining room table of the dishes
from the family's late breakfast, and I watched her pause in front of
the enormous over-mantle mirror, straighten her hair, and adjust the
collar round her neck to set it more comfortably. It was the sort of
automatic gesture that someone with glasses uses to reset them on his
nose. I stared at the collar in horror. No, not her, but the inch and a
half wide black reinforced nylon collar, complete with stainless steel
badge and plates, around her neck. The collar that would mark her out
as a 'restrained person', unmistakably, no matter what dress or mask
she wore.

Shit.

It's funny what the eye skips over, isn't it, when you are so used to
something that you don't see it? I sat there morosely for a few minutes
wondering if even my miracle-working friend Mrs. Haversham could get us
out of that one, before realising that I would be better calling on Sam
Weller. If anyone knew how to hide or remove a collar for a few hours,
he would.

His black frown on seeing us enter the little shop made me wonder how I
had unintentionally upset him.

"Here is the book. Thank you very much," I ventured nervously, pushing
it forward over the counter.

"And?" he growled, looking at Annie. Suddenly I realised what he might
be thinking.

"Oh, no. I haven't brought her in to sell her. I'm taking your advice;
I am going to keep her on." One look at Annie's beaming face should
have told him that, I thought.

"Congratulations, young man! I was 'oping you were goin' to see sense.
So, you finally realised what you've tamed, then, eh?"

"Tamed?"

"Like the fox."

"Oh, 'The Little Prince.' Yes, I suppose so. Or maybe she tamed me, I'm
not sure."

"Ah, well, that's 'ow it goes, ain't it. Remember what the fox said —
'You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.'"

I nodded, suddenly seeing how he was right. Of course I was responsible
for her. And although a week ago that would have terrified me, now it
seemed not only right, but also easy.

"Well, um, I have to pay for that er... stuff that you slipped her
yesterday."

"Ah hah!" he laughed. "And were it useful, eh? Enjoy yourself did yer?"

I declined to answer and held out my wrist with the fone. He did the
business.

"Anythin' else Sam Weller can do for yer then?"

"Well, I do have a different problem. You did mention that you were an
expert on collar sets, didn't you?"

He guffawed out loud when I explained my plans to take Annie to the
Ball, and my need to hide or remove the collar on her neck.

"You don't look for the simple life, do you, young man? Sorry, but the
'ole system is designed to make it impossible to allow anyone to escape
from one of those things, and even if I admitted to knowing 'ow to cheat
it, I would be risking ending up in one meself."

He looked at my crestfallen expression. "But 'ow about a different
approach. What about a disguise?" I looked up, uncertain but hopeful.
"Well, you'd been asking about alternative collar sets. 'Ow does your
little thing feel about jewellery?" He fished an enormous bundle of
different-shaped keys out of his pocket and started searching through
it.

I looked at Annie, whose face was as puzzled as mine. "I suppose she
likes jewellery, in principle," I replied cautiously, wondering how a
pair of earrings was going to help us here.

"What's it think of this, then?" Mr. Weller had found the tiny key he
wanted, and used it to open the back of one of the display cases to the
side of us. From it he carefully withdrew a velvet plinth, on which was
mounted a silver necklace. No, a choker, I realised, admiring the
intricate filigree mesh. It was wide at the back but narrowed slightly
to the front where a single large silver ring hung at the centre. I
could see that the workmanship was superb.

"This," he said, with obvious pride beaming though his voice, "is by
Chatto and Windus, a one-off for a special client I once had. Never
picked it up, did 'e, but I couldn't bear to send it back. Cost me over
six 'undred smackers, and I'd let you 'ave it at cost."

"It's beautiful. But... how can she wear it over her collar, and how
would it help us?"

"Because it is a collar, Boss," whispered Annie, in a tone of awe.

"Certainly is," confirmed Mr. Weller, with cheerful enthusiasm.
"Programmable, with all the latest software. Gives you user-definable
broadcast range, sympathetic signal damping, pain threshold tuning, a
timer to allow separation for errands, and it even combines with your
fone, so you don't have to carry a separate zapper around. Plus, there
are a couple of other non-standard 'features' he'd asked for that you
won't get nowhere else."

It sounded like a technological marvel. "What sort of features?"

"Well, now. They go to all that trouble to put the broadcast functions
on a wrist bracelet, and wire in a C43 link so it ties in with any
modern fone, so why not go the 'ole 'og?"

"I don't quite understand."

"Ere, let me show you." He took my wrist. "Oh, very nice, that looks
just like an old Rolex Oyster. Very classy job. Now, try this." He
strapped a chunky chrome bracelet on my wrist next to my fone, and
plugged a small C43 lead from the side of the bracelet into the
auxiliary input on the fone.

"That's it. Uses your fone's screen and processor, and the controller's
tuned radio link to the collar." An additional icon had appeared on my
fone screen, and selecting it brought up a new screen of six icons.
Four were numbered, and coloured white, yellow, orange and red as
standard — obviously the four control buttons. A fifth one was pink,
and the sixth was in the shape of an ear. That turned out to be a
direct cordless fone link to the collar, which had a hidden microphone
and speaker. So, wearing that collar, Annie would be able to talk to me
anywhere, any time, without a screen!

Sam Weller and I spent at least ten minutes with our heads together
playing with my new toy. I could see he was as big a tech nut about
collars as I was about fones. And it really was impressive. If you
think about it, the only area where we had overtaken the Pinkos and
their pre-Crash tech was restraint technology, and now this thing was
combining it with a fone.

"What other features does it have?"

"Well we'll 'ave to fit it to demonstrate that."

"Great, let's do that then. "

"Ah, not quite so fast, young man. There is just eh, the little point
of you payin' for the getup. Six 'undred and twenty-six for the kit,
and thirty for my time an' hexpertise."

Gulp. I sagged as all my hopes and excitement were dashed in one go.

"Oh. You couldn't..." I stopped. Without asking, I knew he could not
let me have it for less; not enough for me to be able to afford it, and
I knew better than to ask. He was a prole; this was his livelihood; and
looking around, it was not such a great one at that. He could not
afford to drop that kind of money on a piece of stock any more than I
could.

On the other hand... it was a long shot but I wondered whether my new
reconciliation with my Mother would stand an early test. "Can I borrow
your screen for a second?"

"Be my guest, young feller."

Fortunately she picked up my call immediately. Even better, she hardly
questioned my sketchy and somewhat evasive explanation. Whatever it
was, if I thought I needed it for tonight's Ball, she would lend me the
money, and give me six months to repay it. I could have longer, if I
needed. I keyed the icons and the sum was transferred.

Mr. Weller, who had been pretending not to eavesdrop, beamed as he
brought the sales form over and took my wrist to charge it. "You won't
regret this, now. Nicest bit o' kit I ever 'ad through me hands, an' I
couldn't see it goin' round a nicer neck."

He marched over to turn the shop sign on the door to 'CLOSED' and then
ushered us through to that little back room. Memories of the last time
we were here immediately set my pulse racing.

"Up you get, little thing, no — on your back, like that. There you
go. Now, where's the controller." I fished it out of my trouser pocket,
where it lived when we were out of the house. He took it over to the
bench at the back of the frame. "Right now, I'll explain the whole
procedure before I start."

Any idea I had that you simply unlocked one collar and put on the next
was quickly scotched. Apparently the thing buried under the skin at the
back of the neck had a 'cut off' function that was only suppressed by
both the external part around the neck and the carrier signal being
continuously broadcast by the controller. Removing a collar's collar
(why was that terminology so confusing?) immediately disabled the
bearer, with immense pain and some damage to the nervous system.
Similarly the absence of the controller, if it was destroyed, damaged
or simply out of range, rendered the victim unconscious immediately.
This, I had already found out to Annie's cost in the fiasco at the
café on Tuesday.

However, the collar inspection frame had an override built into the
neck support. Set it up, tune it to the restrained person's unique
frequency, which was a function of its serial number, and the neck
collar can be serviced, temporarily removed or even swapped out.

"You might like to do the honours with the cuffs. Make sure they're
properly fast because of the interlock — it won't work unless they
are all hard down."

While I was busy doing that, he was fiddling around with a screen at
the back of the rig, and playing with the knobs. Annie's expression was
hard to read. I guessed at a mixture of anticipation, excitement and
apprehension. "You all right, girl?"

"Oh, yes, Boss. I can't believe you are buying something so expensive
for me. It's going to be so good to be tied to you by this."

"Tied to me? How?" Pretty though it was, I could not see how we would
be any more "tied" together than before.

"Boss, I know why you hardly ever touched the old controller, and I
appreciate the thought. But seeing you hold it, it was almost like you
were holding a part of me. It always gave me such a... shivery feeling
deep in my tummy." She gave me a funny little look. "Now my controller
will be on your wrist all the time. On your skin. You could touch it
any time. You'll be able to speak to me — or even zap me — any time
you liked."

A bizarre thought occurred to me. It was unlikely, but I had to know.
"Annie, does the thought of my using the zapper excite you?"

"I know it's nuts, Boss, but it does. I don't understand why but I
can't help it. The thought that you will wear that thing on your wrist,
that you'll be able to make me curl up and die at the touch of a finger,
it makes me... well, wet between the legs."

I stared at her in disbelief. Mr. Weller, who must have heard the
exchange although he was busy with adjusting the knobs and switches,
muttered "Hmm. You be careful 'ere, boy; you got a lot to learn. You
used that there riding crop yet?"

"No. I'm not sure I will use it until I understand more about what's
going on with her."

"Well done. Just make sure you both expect the same things of it,
alright? At the end of the day, it's about trust, and that little thing
of yours trusts you more than most, I tell you."

I nodded slowly.

"Now, get ready, pumpkin; this might sting." He flicked a switch, and
Annie flinched. "Simple as that." Using a strange and rather unpleasant
looking tool, he detached the old collar from around her neck, and there
she was. Free. Well, held down at all corners, of course, but still it
was the first time I had ever seen her bare neck. I reached out to
stroke the skin of her naked throat, gently. She looked up at me with
those big green eyes, and to my alarm I saw tears swimming there.

"Boss, while I am free of the collar, I need to say something. I want
to give myself to you."

"Don't be silly, I can't own you more than I already do."

"Yes you can, if it comes from me. Not from the school, or your father,
but from me. I want to do this, to give myself to you."

I shook my head in puzzlement. She was so sweet but every time I
thought I was getting the measure of her... I leant forward to brush
the back of my fingers over her lips. She pushed her face at my hand as
much as she could, and in her eyes was an unfathomable look. "My mouth
is yours," she said in a curiously breathy voice.

I nodded slowly, understanding a little. I palmed her sweet breasts
through the thin cotton cloth of her tunic. This morning she was
braless, so flicking the nipples with my thumbs, I could feel them like
rubber bullets.

"My breasts are yours."

I dropped my hand down between her outstretched legs and lifted the
skirt of her dress. The crotch of her panties was almost transparent
with moisture, and when I slipped my fingers under the damp cloth to
caress her exposed labia, the lips were soft and slick. The back of my
knuckles brushed over the smooth soft skin around them, not just naked
but vulnerable without the pubic hair.

"My... My c-cunt is yours," she whispered hoarsely, shivering a little.

I leant down, held her head and touched her lips with the softest of
butterfly kisses.

"My life is yours." Her bosom was heaving with the violence of her
emotions and she was trembling all over, but her voice was steady and
her eyes never left mine.

"I accept."

It was done, for better or for worse. She was committed. I was
committed. As an adult, it was up to me to make it work. She was my
responsibility now, and I was going to take it seriously.

Mr. Weller surprised me by grabbing my hand and shaking it vigorously.
"Congratulations, Mr. Pilsbury. You got a good one there. You look
after 'er now."

I smiled to myself. It was the first time I had heard him use the
feminine pronoun for her.

The silver choker did not quite fit and needed adjustment. Despite
looking as delicate as a piece of lace, it was mostly made of stainless
steel, and as tough as a high-strength steel chain. It could only be
shortened by releasing certain links with a special tool.

"There we go," said Mr. Weller proudly, five minutes later, stepping
back to admire his handiwork. She did look good in it. "Now we just
'ave to set it all up."

The next bit would have been boring if I hadn't been so interested in
the technicalities of it. Being programmable meant that a lot of things
that were the default on ordinary zappers could be chosen. We tweaked
and tuned happily until he was satisfied that we had covered it all. He
listened to my request to wind down the pain settings to their lowest,
but then surprised me.

"I think we can do better than that. What if I 'accidentally' burnt out
the tertiary synapse transistor, eh? I'll tell you. Well, no I won't
'cause you wouldn't follow me, but basically all the pain settings get
dropped by about one. The number one feels like a tickle, the number
two feels like a number one, and so on. And you haven't even asked me
about the extra feature, 'ave you?" He indicated the strange fifth icon
on my small display, the pink heart.

"You know how these things work, by inducing nerve signals at the base
of the spine. Well now, you think that second-wave Fourier transforms
can only generate pain signatures?" I had no idea what he was talking
about, but I recognised true enthusiasm in full flow, so I just shook
my head encouragingly. "'Ere, you following this, girl?"

Annie, who had been concentrating on every word we had uttered like her
life depended on it, nodded vigorously. "Tell me 'ow this feels then."

He touched the pink icon on my fone, and played with two knobs on the
board in front of him.

"Doesn't hurt at all, Sir."

"Keep talking. " He continued winding the knobs.

"A bit warm and tingly. Feels rather nice, actually." For some reason
she looked at me and blushed.

"Hmm. Not quite hitting the spot."

I had to ask. "What are you expecting to happen here? What is that
button supposed to do?"

"It's the 'pleasure' button, ain't it? Turns her on, up to orgasm if
you keep goin'."

What a strange idea. But the thought of stimulating Annie, against her
will and at the press of a button, was very interesting. I looked at
her and her eyes were wide with excitement. "Can you get it to work?"

"Hmmm. I think the arrangement needs calibrating. What we need is an
output signal to model, somethin' I can use to base the transform
signal on." I looked at him, blankly. "If you stimulate her, Mr.
Pilsbury, an' we record the input, I can measure phase shift and
frequency of the feeling and that button can play it back, alright?" I
tried to look less blank but I obviously did not succeed. "Look, just
fuck her for a bit, will you? Then I can get it to work!"

Ah. All was clear. I looked back at him nervously.

"I'll be out in the front. Let me know when you've finished. Just let
me start recording." He flicked two switches and twisted a knob before
slipping out the door.

It was just her and me. I started undoing the buttons down the front of
her black uniform dress.

"Boss, what are you doing?"

"Arousing you."

"But boss, I should be doing this sort of thing for you!"

"The thing is, Annie, I can do what I like to make you feel good, and
you can't stop me, can you?" I flicked one pink nipple reflectively and
noticed how it sprang to attention.

The other nipple was as rewarding and I watched happily as the ruddy
aureoles crinkled at my touch. One hard tug and her panties were a
ragged garter on her left leg.

"Yes, like cleaning off my penis first thing in the morning," I
murmured, admiring her lower lips so extravagantly displayed.

I stroked the inner lips gently with my fingers then carefully took
hold of them between my fingertips. It was a bit fiddly, but once I had
a gentle grip I could softly tug them apart to see how far they would
go. "But, Boss... oh... what are you doing... ah... oh, God..." A
surprisingly long way, it appeared. The glistening coral pink skin
stretched between them looked so new, so vulnerable. Despite my
practice with Liz, I realised I had not yet put my tongue to Annie's
treasures. I wondered if she would taste the same.

"No, Boss, you mustn't! You... oh!... Masters don't... OH... do that...
OHHHH. Oh, Maaaaaster!" Interesting. Similar but distinctively
different. I wondered if I could ever organise a taste comparison. My
knob was now very hard so I extracted it from the confines of my
trousers and rested it on Annie's wet open lips.

"This fuck, Annie, is for your pleasure," I mentioned, as I slid it
gently backwards and forwards, letting it rub slippery up and down,
just reaching the fleshy little knot at the top of her slit. "Master,
you... aaaaaaah mustn't... ooooooh GOD!" Yes, that was the place that
seemed to get to her best.

Her eyes were screwed tight shut and her face was contorted. The sound
of the long groan as I slid my full length straight into her was very
satisfying. Pulling back only a little, I bent down to suck almost all
of one soft breast into my mouth, and tongued the proud nipple. "HAH,"
she panted as I plunged back in, possibly deeper. I give the other
breast the same treatment, although it was hard on the back.

It was easier to reach just the nipples, so I suckled on them in turn,
tumbling the other one in my fingers each time. She was gasping and I
wondered how far she was from orgasm. For the first time, I realised, I
was completely in control. If I let my own excitement take a back seat,
I could run the show. I could force her to explode whenever I liked.

Tugging her nipples while pushing hard up against the roof of her
cunnie seemed to get the best reaction. She writhed against her
restraints, her body fighting them, safe in the knowledge that they
would not give way. The feeling of her insides writhing on my cock was
just great.

"Let go," I whispered into her ear. "This is for you, Annie." I pushed
harder, forcing an incoherent cry out of her each stroke, and she
bucked back against me each time. I gripped her taut torso with both
hands to force my cock into her again and again. Her body lost its
rhythm and jerked from side to side erratically. This was it. "Come for
me, Annie!" I commanded, and bit down, hard, on one rubbery nipple.

"AAAAAArrrrrrrgh MAAAAAAAAster!" I stood still and gripped her hard
while her body exploded and spasmed around my cock.

As the tremors subsided, I pulled out and gently lowered her torso back
to the padded top. Amazingly, my erection even subsided a little as I
walked around her and released the catches.

"Master," she groaned weakly. "Oh, Master, I..."

"Shhhh," I held one finger to her lips and brushed her forehead gently.
"I hope we have not hurt your nipple too much."

"Oh, no, Master, I... ouch. Oww, it does smart a bit." She giggled
helplessly, a very un-Annie like sound.

"You just lie there and recover, and I will get Mr. Weller back."

"Do you have to go, Master?" One hand flopped out of the restraint and
searched for mine. I held it for a second and gazed into her eyes. "Do
you know... do you know how much I love you, Master?"

I nodded and smiled gently. "I know."

"That was so amazing, that you would — And you haven't even cum!
Master, you did not finish! You must use me to get yourself off."

"When we get back home you can take me up to my bedroom and you can
spend as long as you like, enticing me to fill all your lovely little
holes with spunk. How about that?"

She smiled weakly, placated. "Sort your clothes out, girl," I
instructed, and doing myself up, I went out to fetch Sam Weller.

"Judging by the sounds in the shop, that was one very lucky
collarmaid," he pronounced, as he worked at the screen a few minutes
later. Annie looked down bashfully, but she was still too pink for any
blushing to show. "Yep, talk about a strong signal! Now, just give me a
few minutes to set this up."

Annie had composed herself and sorted out her clothing by the time he
had finished. She was not sure what to do with the ruined knickers, so
I took them from her uncertain hand and, grinning, dropped them in the
bin.

"Think you can manage without for a while?"

"Yes, please, Boss!" she grinned back.

Even without knowing what was — or was not — under her short dress,
she looked enticing. The new collar was even more beautiful on a live
neck, now part of her. I reached out to touch the big ring at he front.
"What is this for?"

"Ah, yes, you haven't got to that yet, have you?" he asked, somehow
frowning and grinning at the same time.

I stood patiently, knowing that he would only tease me more if I rose
to the bait.

"I'm thinkin' that such a loverly couple as yourselves needs a little
hitchin' up present. What about this then?" and he extracted from the
cupboard behind him a long length of silver chain. No, now I looked at
it, it was more like a dog lead, with a loop for your hand at one end,
and a meticulously fashioned clip at the other.

"Oh, Master!" whispered Annie, dropping to her knees, and holding back
her head. Her curved throat was taut, on display as if she was waiting
for something.

"'Ere, you better do the honours," said Mr. Weller, and put the
slithery rope of silver links in my hand.

Her eyes were lost in mine as I leant forward to clip it to her neck.
She sighed, and, I couldn't help it, I bent down to brush her lips with
mine.

"Harumph." Mr. Weller cleared his throat, as he started banging tools
together and cleaning up the workbench. "Come on, let's be out of here
with yer."

"He's just an old softy!" I whispered to Annie, and she nodded in
agreement as he swept us through to the front and started filling in
forms on his screen. As he worked, he chatted, relating a couple of
anecdotes about keeping a submissive collar. I could see he was not
just making idle conversation. He was sharing some of his extensive
knowledge on the subject, and I realised I could do worse than listen
attentively. One idea that threw me was the concept of a "safe" word.
Quite what he thought I might be doing with her I was not sure.

"Now just you make sure the two of you have one, young man, an' before
you let her talk you into anythin' risky!" He nodded at her and turned
to me. "There we are. All done."

"But I don't want to be able to stop him. I want to be my Master's toy,
his thing. I want to be totally at his mercy," objected Annie.

"Maybe you do, little thing. But don't you see that puts your needs
ahead of his? If 'e feels responsible for you, that puts a load of shit
on 'im, that does, and you gotta respect his right to care for you. How
can 'e let go, doing what 'e wants, if in the back of his mind 'e has
to worry about whether 'e might go too far, actually 'urt you?
Buuuuuuut, you get some special signal, that 'e knows you will only use
if it really matters, then 'e can let rip without having to worry, see?"

"Oh. Alright then. But, Boss, I promise I will never use it."

"That's your right, as long as it's there. Tell you, I've seen bitches
change their mind in mid-scream, so don't think it can't happen. So,
let's have it then."

"Have what?"

"The word, girl, the word."

"Oh. Um... how about 'strawberry'?"

Sam Weller turned to me with raised eyebrows as I laughed. "What's the
significance of that then?"

"Oh, just the first time I ever kissed her. Well, more a lick than a
kiss but..." I trailed off as I noticed that Annie's eyes were closed
but her mouth was open and the small pink tip of her tongue was
venturing out into the open air. I chuckled and leant forward. Just as
I actually touched the tip of her tongue with mine, I tabbed the pink
icon on my fone.

She hissed as my tongue wrapped itself around hers, and then froze as a
shudder shook her slight frame. She staggered a little and almost fell
into me as we parted. Eyes wide, she stared at me in wonder. "Sorry,
Boss, I don't know what came over me. I... are you sure you want to
wait until we get home?"

I chuckled again. This green button was going to be fun. "Quite sure.
You need more self-control, that's all. Now, say thank you to Mr.
Weller, and we will be on our way."

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Chapter 11 is at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/The_Collar_around_the_Heart/The_Collar_11.txt