Earning Mistress's collar had somehow become a symbol in her mind for everything that she wanted. She had forsaken her old life of complete control, a...d there was no going back. She needed to submit to Mistress – to have that outlet. She could no longer convince herself that constantly maintaining control was fulfilling for her.But she had been denied the collar, and was thus incomplete – pathetic even. She wasn't worthy of being Mistress's submissive – she wasn't in control, but she wasn't. Our front room overlooks a street, busy with traffic during the day but dead at night, however, at the weekend, the street was used by plenty of drunk people heading home from town. We left the window ajar with some music on very low so we could hear anyone coming down the street. My wife sat in a chair that I had positioned looking out the window. She wore only a dressing gown and a smile. We sat in the dark so nobody could see in but we were able to see out. Footsteps echoed down the street. More

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