Simon lazed on the sleek, gray couch in the couple’s modern apartment, the late afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His slender fingers played with the silver collar around his neck, a symbol of his submission to his husband, John. He glanced at his phone, scrolling through social media, trying to find something to pass the time.
The click-clack of John’s heels on the hardwood floor announced his arrival. Simon quickly hid his phone, knowing he wasn’t allowed to use it without permission.
John, a tall and muscular man with piercing blue eyes, entered the room. He took in Simon’s posture, the way he fidgeted with the collar, and raised an eyebrow. “Well, don’t you look cozy?” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Simon rolled his eyes, “I’m not a dog, John.”
John chuckled, “No, you’re my submissive. And don’t you forget it.” He walked over to Simon, his eyes never leaving the collar. “You’re wearing it,” he stated, as if it was a question.
Simon touched the cold metal, “Yes, I thought it would be…nice.”
John’s smirk grew wider, “Nice? Wearing a collar is more than nice, Simon. It’s a symbol of your devotion to me.”
Simon looked down, “I know, I’m sorry.”
John’s expression softened, “Apology accepted. But, I can’t help but think you’re hiding something.”
Simon’s heart skipped a beat, he had been hiding something. He had cheated on John a week ago, a moment of weakness he regretted immediately. He tried to downplay it, “I wouldn’t hide anything from you, John.”
John’s eyes narrowed, “I think you are, Simon. And we’re going to talk about it.” He reached down and grabbed the collar, pulling Simon up. “Stand up.”
Simon stood, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked at John, trying to gauge his mood. John’s expression was stern, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. Simon secretly enjoyed John’s dominance, but he was scared of what was to come.
John began to remove Simon’s clothes, his fingers deftly undoing buttons and zippers. Simon protested, but his protests were half-hearted. He knew he couldn’t win an argument with John, especially when he was in this mood.
John led Simon to the bedroom, his hand firmly on Simon’s shoulder. He pushed Simon onto the bed, bending him over the plush comforter. Simon yelped as John’s hand connected with his ass, a playful spank.
John looked down at Simon, his eyes dark with desire, “I’m going to teach you a lesson, Simon.”
Simon’s heart raced with anticipation. He knew what was coming, and he both feared and craved it. John pulled out a set of restraints, the soft leather a stark contrast to the metal collar around Simon’s neck. Simon’s breath hitched as John tied his hands to the bedposts, leaving him at his mercy.
John began to tease Simon, running his fingers over Simon’s body, but not touching where Simon wanted him to. Simon squirmed, trying to get closer to John’s touch. He was a writhing mess of pleasure and frustration, his body begging for release.
John leaned down and whispered in Simon’s ear, “You’re mine, and you’ll never forget it.”
Simon shivered, both from the cold air and the thrill of John’s words. He was consumed by the sensations, his mind blank except for John’s touch. John brought him to the brink of orgasm, but stopped just before, leaving Simon begging for more.
John continued this pattern, bringing Simon to the edge and stopping, until Simon was a mess of pleasure and frustration. Finally, John allowed Simon to climax, and Simon’s release was intense and overwhelming. He collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied.
John untied Simon and held him close, whispering in his ear, “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you forget it.”
Simon smiled, knowing that he was exactly where he belonged. He snuggled closer to John, the metal collar cool against his skin. He was a submissive, but he was John’s submissive. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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