Just A Hobby

Assertive Young Ladies #22

Any chance of sharing more details about your shock collar training? I love the power disparity they represent; discipline at the push of a button.

Sure! I’m happy to share a bit more about the experience I teased.

It was some years ago, and it was the first night I was meeting and playing with a new partner. Generally I don’t recommend such intensity for a first session with a partner, but I’ll admit that I was young, dumb, and overeager. Nothing bad happened and it was a wonderful experience, but I would do it differently today... just to be safer.

Before any play, he showed me the collar shocking himself and then let me play with the collar and intensities of shocks on my leg and arm.

When I was satisfied and comfortable with the collar, he commanded me to strip for him.

He then bound my hands behind my back before locking the shock collar into place on my neck. The prongs were positioned on the side of my neck, which is usually more sensitive than the front of back.

He added another tie at my elbows, forcing a tight posture that thrust my chest forward. I was commanded to stand and spread my legs hip distance apart while he added a short hobble chain between my ankles.

And then the exercise began.

As I’ve shared before, I love strict power dynamics and protocol. Maybe even more so than the sex itself… and he knew that. He had me walk the length of the room, holding my perfect posture, but keeping my eyes downcast, as an obedient submissive would to not drawn attention to herself. He demanded graceful steps despite the hobble between my legs, no jerks from the bindings or chains, and absolutely no raising my gaze to his face.

He then sat on the sofa with the remote for the collar while I walked back and forth at his command. Every stumble, any time I looked up, or even a moment of less than perfect gait would be corrected with a shock.

As I found confidence in his asks, he would add more challenges. By the end, I was nipple clamped, gagged and had clamps hanging between my legs. Still holding my composure for him, still being corrected by a shock each time I didn’t meet his standards.

I was crying from frustration and pain, but so deep in subspace. Every shock reminded me that I was a plaything, his little pet, existing for his entertainment. And the only way to avoid the electric punishment was to exist as he demanded. I felt myself mold to meet his expectations in real time with the help of the collar. And I loved knowing how powerless I was to lash out, push back, or give attitude of any type.

I could be withering on the ground in pain as a repercussion for my bad behavior, while he barely even had to lift a finger. He would never break a sweat.

All that to say, it’s a treasured memory and one of the hottest things to ever happen to me ever in my whole fucking life.