They were a pale blue, made of a simple soft cotton, and incredibly comfortable.
At the moment they were the single most erotic thing I’d ever felt or imagined.
“Now your arousal is mine.” She told me. “Your arousal from before we began our journey together belongs to me, and all of your arousal from now on will leak into my panties. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I said.
“Good.” She said. “Because from this morning on, you will wear only panties that belong to me and that I give you. Agreed?”
“Yes.” I said nodding. “Agreed.”
“That brings me to the second thing.” She said. “Do you know where my bedroom is?”
“I do.” I answered.
I’d been upstairs into Cindy’s room almost as often as I’d been in and out of my own room growing up. But I’d rarely been on the other side of the upstairs of this house where Isabella’s bedroom was.
“Go to my bedroom and go into the top drawer of my dresser. The one with the lamp on top of it. There’s a red bag in that drawer.” She said. “Bring it to me. Right now.”
Without a word I turned and went into the house. She had told me to go with such authority that I’d have gone even if I didn’t want to. I walked through the dining room and up the stairs in my bare feet, and down the hall to her bedroom.
There was a soft light coming from the lamp on the dresser, and in the top drawer I found the small bag she had told me to get. I picked it up and realized that I’d never been in her room alone before. She and Cindy had always been with me.
I wanted to take a moment and look around, but I sensed that would be a violation of what she’d asked me to do. Holding the small bag in my hands I headed back downstairs.
I realized that I was dressed from the waist up and wearing only her panties below my shirt. It felt equally silly and sexual.
I went out onto the porch, and she was wearing her yoga pants again, perched on the loveseat.
“Here.” She said, handing me a cold bottle of water. “I want you to drink this.”
“Okay.” I said, taking it from her, and handing her the little red bag.
“Drink.” She said.
I undid the top of the water and took a drink. I started to set it down on the table next to the loveseat and she shook her head.
“All of it.” She said. “You’ll need it.”
“Okay.” I said, confused.
She stood up and took something out of the bag.
“This is for you.” She said.
She held it out towards me, and I saw that it was a collar. It was small and black, and looked stylish, except for the shiny silver hook woven into it.
“Is it a collar?” I asked. “A dog collar?”
“It is a collar.” She answered. “It’s not a dog collar. It’s a Gabriella collar. Do you trust me?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t anticipated this. What was she planning exactly?
“Do you want me to wear it?” I asked.
“Yes.” She said. “Whenever you are here with me. You will put this on when you want, but you will only take it off when I want. It will be an important part of what we share together.”
She reached out and snapped it around my neck. It fit snug but wasn’t uncomfortably tight.
“Drink.” She told me.
I lifted the bottle and drank more water, gulping to finish it all, feeling the snug collar around my throat.