I got chained by my master

I came in from work this evening, showered and changed into a sarong. Richard likes me wearing just a sarong, tied around my hips, when I’m at home. He put on my collar.

Later I tied on my new jingle skirt (I call it) that I use for belly dance class. I looove how it sounds when I move.

Then Richard brought out some new toys that he got yesterday. (He wouldn’t tell me what they were and I have been squirming about it for 24 hours straight.)

First he put on my leather wrist restraints, and locked a chain between them. He gave me enough slack to work on my laptop. (Thank you, Sir.)

He put on new ankle restraints, and locked a slightly longer chain between them.

He locked a short chain onto the front of my collar.

He sat back to look at me, reached out and grabbed my collar chain, pulled me to him with a growl and kissed me roughly.

“It’s a short leash. I like you on a short leash.”

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He handed me the packaging from the locks and told me to throw it away in the kitchen. The leg chain didn’t stop me from taking normal steps, but it was easy to trip on, so I had to walk very slowly and carefully. He watched me the whole way there and back.

When I came back, I curled up against him. I was a tiny bit scared he was going to make me sit at his feet. I was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by my chains, and when I’m feeling nervous or insecure I like to be as close to him as possible. So I nuzzled up against his chest quietly and hoped. But I think he was too happy looking at me and hearing me jingle to make me sit on the floor, so I’m still up on the couch.

Occasionally he reaches over and pulls me to him by my leash, then kisses me or fondles my breasts. I’m so happy to be next to him.

The only thing marring my happiness is the nipple clamps sitting in a heap on the coffee table. I’m hoping he’s forgotten about them…

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