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Missy cures her panic attacks with the proper treatment.

What did it matter to the rest of the world that she willingly wished to be his property? To anyone else, Roxanne and Tom had a normal loving relationship.

Roxanne got up and made her way to the bedroom. She was better now, her pulse had slowed, the rush of trying to make every second count earlier had subsided, and she remembered why she had rushed home in the first place. As she slipped out of her "prison" uniform she smiled and gazed upon the clothes she would confine herself to for the rest of the night. A high French cut black g-string, a pair of leather and steel wrist shackles, and matching pair for her ankles. With all that on her pride swelled as she gazed at the part she wished she could wear every hour of every day; her collar.

It had taken Roxanne over eighteen months to earn her Master's collar. Long days and nights of proving her desire to be his property. Endless tasks that had stripped her (gladly she would add) of any inhibitions to his desires, just to prove to him that she was serious about their lifestyle choice. Caressing her heavy breasts as she gazed over the oak box that held her collar, she recalled the seemingly infinite whippings, spankings, hours on her knees, days without contact, and the other torturous existence she had to go though simply to prove to him that she was serious.

Lifting the lid, she revealed the purple velvet lining of the case and her delicate cunt tightened and soaked her g-string as she enjoyed the memories. Every time she put the collar on she recounted every event leading up to that moment, when she first got it. How though her deep and difficult training she became the person she wished to be. She was stronger now, stronger than she ever would have been had she never decided to become his slave. The training had unlocked something within her, a confidence deeply rooted in her ability to submit. She had no regrets.

The interlaced metal circles that made her choker were custom designed to Tom's specifications. Rings large and small joined around each other forming a complex pattern of chains. Though made of steel, the rings were arranged in such a way to be just heavy enough to remind the wearer that it was there. Roxanne found it impossible to forget she was wearing the collar despite the thousands of orgasms that she had experienced with it on. Something about it pinched, just lightly every time she moved, where another part caressed her skin softly and cooled a previous pinch. The collar made her feel complete, and she could not count the number of times she woke up wearing it in the morning, cursing the fact that she had to take it off.

"Your slave is almost ready Master... would it please you for your slave to come out to you?"

"Yes, I'm in the study, slave."

"Yes Master." She excitedly engaged the clasp on the collar and got down on her knees. Just as she was about to crawl out to the source of her excitement, she gave herself one last look in the floor length mirror. Her long dark hair was tied in a tight ponytail that hung just over her fit back, her breasts, firm and taut, exposed and her nipples hard from the slight chill of the steel around her neck. Her shapely legs bent at the knee making her subservient, while she made sure the g-string was up high on her hipbones exposing as much of her leg as possible. The wetness of her pussy had already soaked and tightly wrapped the fabric over her sex, making her firm lips push out through the thin material. Her cuffs were securely in place, ready to support her entire weight if her master so decided. She was ready for him; she was ready to serve him.

As she crawled her thighs squeezed her already soaked cunt together a little more, each movement sending waves though her as she crawled though the corridor, down the stairs and into the study. There she took a brief glance to see where her Master was, quickly averted her eyes and continued her crawl to him, making sure her ass was high in the air for his pleasure.

Tom never looked down but kne

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