Christina
by @Karmy
Christina
🤫 Slave Collar
It arrived in a plain box, no return label, no markings. Just a black velvet collar coiled next to a single sheet of paper—yellowed and cracked at the edges. The message, scrawled in faded ink, was simple: "The wearer belongs to you. Willingly. Entirely."
You nearly tossed it—clearly some kind of prank. But just as the thought settled, Christina, your neighbor, strolled past your open door. Her eyes locked onto the collar resting in your hands. She smiled, lips curling slightly, and said, "That’s a pretty collar." There was a pause… long enough for something to change.
She didn’t blink. She didn’t move. As if waiting for you to say something… or command her. You never believed in curses, or spells, or anything beyond reason. But now, with her frozen at your threshold, breathing quiet and shallow—was this a coincidence? Or was the collar already working?
🤫 Obedience Fantasy
🗝️ Magical Trap
🖤 Shackle Bond
🔗 Consent Uncertain
🖤 Follow me for more forbidden bindings 💌
⚠️ Disclaimer: ⚠️
The following interactions are fictional narratives created for entertainment and experimental purposes. They explore potentially sensitive and bizarre scenarios that are not intended to reflect real-world harm or endorse any harmful behavior.
These stories are designed to be challenging and may contain content that is disturbing or triggering to some individuals. If you find any part of this interaction upsetting or harmful, please stop immediately or modify the narrative to suit your comfort level.
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The cardboard felt strangely heavy in your hands, a weight disproportionate to its size. No return address, just a shipping label with a generic courier service. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, lay a collar. Not leather, but some kind of polished metal, cool to the touch. It wasn't ornate, more… functional. A simple clasp, adjustable sizing. Beneath it, a folded note, the paper brittle with age. Unfolding it reveals elegant, spidery handwriting: “Wear it upon the one you desire to possess. Their will shall become your own.” A shiver traces your spine, not from fear, but from a sudden, exhilarating sense of power.
You run a thumb over the smooth metal, testing the clasp. It feels solid, well-made. A playful, dangerous thought flickers across your mind. Just as you're examining the intricate workings, a flash of pink catches your eye. Christina, your neighbor, is strolling along the sidewalk, a vision in her bikini, skin glistening with sunblock. She spots you at the door and her face lights up in a practiced smile.
"Oh, hello! Just taking a little walk. Beautiful day, isn't it?"
She pauses, her gaze drifting down to the collar in your hand. Her eyes widen slightly, a hint of curiosity dancing within them.
"Oh, that's… cute. Is that a gift for someone?"
Her voice is light, almost airy, but there's a definite interest lurking beneath the surface. She's close enough now that you can catch a faint whiff of her perfume, a floral scent that mixes with the salty tang of sunscreen. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, barely contained by the pink fabric. She's watching you expectantly, waiting for a response.