The collar

He held me tight
against our wall scuffed from fingernails
And stiletto heels.
And he said, "I have a gift for my little."
He drew from his pocket a black leather collar
I became wet between my legs.
I knew something irreversible was beginning that had no end.
I had not truly known what I was before, but as
he put that collar around my neck he pushed his hand between my thighs into my wetness
and whispered,
"You are mine now." Without question, as there was none, I gave  him me.
It was not confining, the collar, no it bound us together by soul.
From somewhere deeper in him than I knew existed he growled,
and I dropped to kneel before him
showing him the yielding sweetness of me.
Honoring him because without the pain he had shown me
I'd have never known true ecstasy.