The opening of the trunk wakened her from some very dark yet very arousing dreams. Clipping a leash onto the worn leather collar her Master pulled her from the space and led her into the garage, through the house and out to the pool patio.

“Knees, ” was all he needed to say and she immediately dropped, ignoring the painful impact.

Though she knew what was coming it was of little consolation when he turned the freezing cold water from the hose on her. She knew she needed to be cleaned up but when. she had imagined it it was a nice warm shower or maybe a good soak. But of course that was the realm of ordinary wives or even good slavegirls. She was neither and that idea made her loins ache with lust.

He ordered her legs apart and then used the power jet setting to wash both of her holes. The cold water made her shudder but she made no sound. He finished by holding it a few inches over her head and directed it straight down. It hurt but she was distracted by trying to breathe without drowning.

Finally the cold cascade ceased and she opened her eyes to see him walking away.

He paused only long enough to throw her a towel without looking back.

She quickly dried herself and followed, completely unsure of her fate. Was he going to take her to his bed? Was he going to finally punish her?

Either was welcome. The former for obvious reasons but also the latter because she knew that when it was over she would be completely forgiven. She’d start with a clean slate.

But when she saw him standing at the open door to the basement, her heart sank. He said nothing. It was not necessary. She didn’t even look at him as she entered and went down the stairs into the dark room.

She went to the middle of the room, knelt on the black mat there, and assumed the presentation pose.

He followed her and walked paster to the room’s dark corner where he opened the door of a steel cage. The distinct sound of the heavy steel bars were unmistakeable and filled her with dread.

“Come, ” he ordered.

She didn’t hesitate and crawled quickly to where he stood. She knew the drill and turned to back into the tight container. The steel was cold against her skin but she barely noticed.

“Hands behind you.”

‘Oh no, ’ she thought, but obeyed.

The cage was so tight that doing so was not easy but she managed. She wondered whether he wanted her hands inside or outside of the bars for a moment before he pulled the though two adjacent openings on the top and cuffed them together. This was for her, the far worse option. There already no way to get comfortable in the tiny pen but with her hands raised through the top, it allowed her virtually no movement at all. It was going to be a very long night.

He closed the door and, though it was completely redundant, he padlocked the cage.

Even though she was slender and athletic, the container was still a very tight fit. He’d had it built to exact specifications so that when its door was closed it held her so tightly she could not move. As always, she was glad she had spent so much time taking yoga classes. Only by maintaining a slow, steady breathing was she able to endure its discomforts.

He walked away without a word and at the stairs switched off the lights.

She wept silently, tears running down her cheeks and dropping through the bars below her to the concrete floor. It didn’t take long before the torturous confines began to take their toll. The ones below her cut into her knees and shins, the ones at the side into her elbows and shoulders, and the ones at the top into her handcuffed wrists.

Though she usually found pain arousing, there was no way to turn this to any form of pleasure. Not only was she in agony, she also knew that it meant her Master was still upset with her.

She never really slept but her mind did drift away from the horrible confinement at times. Never to a more pleasant place, always to a worse one. A place where she was treated even worse, where she was usually left exposed to the outside elements with the knowledge that she was to be trapped there until she died.

It was just such a terrible vision from which she was wrenched back to the present by the lights coming back on and the sound of her Master’s footsteps approaching. She was disoriented for several long moments. Unsure if she was imagining his approach or if it was real. Only his removal of the cuffs holding her wrists and unlocking the cage door confirmed it.

“Come out. I need to feed you before we undertake today’s tasks.”

After so many hours, doing so was not so easily done than said. But though every muscle screamed in silent pain, she forced herself to crawl out and follow him up the stairs.

The delicious smell of her breakfast almost made her drool and she scurried on hands and knees into the dining room where her food was being served into a steel bowl on the floor with “SHERIE” engraved on it. Next to it was a matching one that said “SLAVE” that held her water.

This was where she almost always was fed and no surprise. She was voraciously hungry but even more thirsty and went first to that bowl, only discovering when she was near and could smell its contents that its liquid was yellow.

That it was her Master’s morning release didn’t slow her for a moment. She plunged her face into the bowl and lapped up the strong tasting fluid as if it was the finest champagne. Her thirst sated, she turned to the other bowl and ate up the mix of eggs, ham, onion, and bell peppers. At the table above her Derek sat down to a nicely folded version or the same ingredients as a Denver omelet. Hers were scrambled together but still delicious.

“I’ve called Joanna and told her that you’re going to be late to work today. I’ve set an appointment to get you a new collar.”

The words only barely sank through to her consciouness and to be true, didn’t really register.

When at last both bowls were empty (though no longer thirsty, the idea of leaving a drop of her Master’s excretion was abhorrent and she lapped the bowl clean), she was told to go and clean herself and get dressed.

“You may walk but be quick about it. And pick a skirt and a pullover blouse, nothing else.”

It didn’t take long for a fast soaping, rinsing and drying and with her hair still damp she went and chose a dark pleated skirt, peasant blouse, and sandals. She had to admit that no longer wearing underwear had definitely made her life simpler. Unsure at first whether to include the worn leather collar Joanna had put on her she hesitated but decided in the end to err on the side of caution and and donned it again.

“Perfect, ” was her husband’s assessment.

A single word that still made her blush with pride.

“Let’s go, we have a ways to go to for the appointment.”

To her surprise he went around to the passenger’s side and opened the gull wing door.

Smiling broadly she slid into the soft leather bucket seat with a soft, “Thank you, Master.”

Taking his seat he made sure she was buckled in and drove out of their driveway and headed in the opposite direction from the downtown and her job. She knew better than to ask and just settled into the comfortable seat and watched the scenery go by, barely noticing it becoming ever more rural.

After many miles he slowed the car and turned into a road leaving to a large gate beneath an archway with a silhouetted horse on top. He pulled up to a speaker and before he could even push the intercom button it crackled, “Yes? Who is it?”

“Derek Andrews. I have an appointment with the smith.”

The meaning of the last word slipped by but she would quickly learn its significance.

The ranch buildings were set far back from the road over a small rise. As they approached a burly man in an apron waved them over to where he stood. As they approached Sherie looked past him into the workshop’s open doors and finally understood why they were here. Inside she saw a fire and and anvil with heavy tongs and a hammer resting beside it.

“Best behavior.”

“Yes, Master, ” she confirmed, hoping her voice did not reveal her trepidation.

Derek walked over and began talking to the man but even with the window down she could not make out their words.

He returned and the door and took her wrist to take her inside.

The big man had a full beard that did nothing to hide his wide grin.

“I think it will be easier and safer if she loses the outfit, ” he said.

With a nod from her Master she quickly obeyed, having little concern for this stranger seeing her naked.

The man approached with an unfamiliar tool whose curved points made it seem a bit threatening. But it was just a set of iron calipers that he used to survey her neck. He took several measurements, writing them down on his wrist. Satisfied, he pulled a measuring tape from the pocket of his leather apron and measured her at the base and top of her neck.

“Okay, you two can step back. You are free to watch but just stay a couple of meters away.”

From a pile of metal he took out a flat piece of dully shining steel, looked it over, measured it, and put it back. He tested several other pieces before finally selecting the right one and a. match. He picked up the tongs and used them to hold the metal over the flames while he stepped on a bellows that caused the flames to burst forth from the top.

He turned it over several times until it began to glow red in the middle and then quickly brought it to his anvil and began hammering it into a curve. When it had begun to lose its color and malleability he used the calipers to measure it before returning it to the fire.

She watched mesmerized as he repeated the steps several times until the steel made half of a circle for what she knew she was soon to be wearing. With a matching piece he made an identical piece and then, after plunging it into cold water, held them up to her neck where they fit nearly perfectly.

The lower edge felt like it would cut into the skin at the her shoulders but he had done this before.

She watched as he then used the forge and another, smaller anvil to make a slight flare along one edge, curling it slightly.

Fitted once again there was no more abrasion.

“Okay, Mr Andrews, one last thing.” he said, pulling out a folded piece of paper and a pen from a pocket.

“You both need to sign this contract and release.”

The form was simple. It said “I, _______- owner and I, ________-slave do hereby request and authorize that a permanent, non-opening, collar be fixed upon the above person who is identified as a slave.”

“Just fill in the names and sign the bottom, please.”

Her Master held it up for her to read the used the top of a nearby rail as a surface and entered their names, signed it, and offered her the pen.

He had mentioned more than once getting her a steel collar but in her imagination she always pictured it has having a hinge and a padlock. This was so much more. It meant that no longer would it be possible for her to hide that she was her husband and Master’s property. From now on, her parents and siblings, her friends, neighbors, and anyone she would ever meet would know that she was a slave.

As much as that scared her, it even more aroused her. She was happy and proud of her service and had always wanted to scream her status to the world.

She signed it smiled widely as she handed it to the blacksmith, saying, “Thank you, Sir.”

He made no sign or acknowledgement of her words, speaking only to her Master. An intentional dismissal that only fanned the flames already simmering in her loins.

“Okay, bring her over here, ” he instructed, gesturing to a leather-covered table, “and lay her face down.”

When she was prone he pushed all of her hair forward, exposing her neck. Then he covered her from the top of her head to well past her shoulders and explained to Derek, “This is Kevlar. It will make sure she doesn’t get injured as I make the weld. But she will need to remain absolutely still and it does get hot.

“Will we have to restrain her before I start?”

“I don’t think so, she’s very well trained and a bit of a painslut.”

His words too stirred her lust.

Fitting the steel curves pulled the Kevlar snug but it’s thickness would give the collar a little room to move. She heard the dull roar of a torch and then the crackling of an arc welder and felt a bit of warmth at the back of her neck. It grew pretty hot but was tolerable. Sealing the 10 centimeters or so didn’t take long and after a moment she heard the very loud roar of his electric sander as he smoothed the seam. A few stray sparks landed on her exposed back but quickly cooled. She’d suffered worse from molten wax.

It was stiil warm when he pulled the fireproof fabric shield out from beneath it but not unpleasantly so.

“Okay, flip her over.”

She felt her Master’s strong hands lift her and turn her over and lay her back down on her back.

It took some effort to get the thick material through collar and smoothed out over her face and upper chest so he could repeat the process.

She heard the smith say, “She sure seems to be enjoying. I can see she’s soaked from here.”

The words, of course, only made her wetter.

The final grinding spewed a few more sparks onto her tits than on her back but beneath the fabric she couldn’t see the two men smiling at each other as he used the machine to send more of them onto them until a larger one landed right on her nipple, making her shudder.

The fabric was then yanked none-too-gently from between the skin and its new wrapping.

She was pulled up and set on her feet and walked by the two men over to a full-length mirror to see its shining glory for the first time. She loved it.

The smith informed them... well actually her Master, “It’s 316 stainless steel so it won’t ever rust or corrode. It doesn’t take any special care but if she goes swimming in the salt water you might want to make sure it’s well rinsed in fresh so it keeps its shine.

“If you ever want it engtaved please come back here and have do it. It takes special tools which I have and I’d hate to see it messed up.”

“Thank you, I’ll consider it.”

The metal artist went on, “Now, about my fee...”

She watched as Derek handed over a thick envelope and then felt him turn her towards the other man and push down on her shoulders.

From her knees she watched him take off his leather apron and knew what was expected even before she hears her Master say, “Pay the man. Make sure you do a good job and I’ll meet you at the car. I’ll have your clothes there.”

The man unbuttoned the front of his denim overalls and pulled out a fairly substantial cock. He directed it towards her but she required no instruction as she opened her mouth widely and took it in all the way to its base.

The groan that that emitted from the man only encouraged the submissive woman and she added every trick she knew, sucking and licking the head and running her nearly prehensile tongue all along its length, and fucking it with her throat.

After enjoying the sight of her body while he worked he was already very turned-on and though he wanted it to last, his resistance was no match for her oral skills. Try as he might she soon had him ready to explode and the touch of her delicate hands and gentle squeeze of his testicles had him erupt into her mouth. As soon as he started to cum she pulled back so that only the bulbous head remained in her mouth and sucked as hard as she could, catching all of the thick jets in her mouth. It was copious delivery but she’d encountered larger amounts.

When he stopped spurting she pulled away, looked up, and opened her mouth to show him the thic white semen that aly oner tongue before swallowing it with a gulp, licking her lips, and saying, “Thank you, Sir. That was delicious.

“And thank you too, for my beautiful new collar. I’ll remember this moment every time I see it in the mirror.”

It was an exaggeration of course but she did love the collar and appreciated his handiwork. But she rarely thought about any of the cocks she sucked at her Master’s command for very long. But she thought, correctly, that the words would be well received.

He patted her head and lifter her to her feet and for the first time addressed her directly, “You’re one hell of a cock sucker, I have to admit. Your Master is one lucky bastard, I’ll give him that.

“Now scoot before I decide to make a set of matching cuffs and keep you here forever.”