”I’d lay in my room, crying, staring in the mirror at my face, with my swollen dark eyes, my pouty full lips, my long black hair, my body. I hated...my body. It beckoned him. I know, because he’d whisper it was my fault as he rammed into me. Holding my throat as he said, “you’re a fucking waste with a body like this. A fucking waste.” The waste of the body was firm, petite, and supple. He’d grip it firmly in his large hands till it bruised and felt on the brink of breaking.I once tried locking. “One more chance…..that is all I have to make this right,” I think to myself as I drive the 30 minutes to your house. You have offered to collar me once before, but the time wasn’t right….my mind wasn’t right….to accept your gift for life. “I wonder if he will really see the new me…the changed me,” I think to myself. Life had not been the easiest for me until I met you, and until that point, I had chosen to play the victim and retreat so that no one could touch me…..touch my mind or soul. Sure,. More

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