Time for your collar…

I round the corner to come down the hall and see you standing there. You’re not even looking in my direction. Your right hand? A deep red, leather, paddle.

Your other hand holds my collar.

I feel the strangest mix of adrenaline, anxiousness, anticipation, excitement… all at once. The collar is my happy place with you, but I know too that I need to check my mental space, make sure I’m right with my role in the moment, and for the rest of this time together.

Sinful Sunday

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