Chained

How timely this topic for kink of the week now is, since, until yesterday the symbol of His ownership of me, as slave has been this chain.

I have worn it now for several months as a constant reminder of who and what I am. It is heavy, it is clunky and it wasn’t exactly made for the job it has been used for. 
The lock bashes on the desk at work as I type and in an often quiet office (where people are busy beavering away at their work), it no doubt has made people sit up and look and wonder about what the sound is.
At times, the chain has caused my arm to turn orange; specifically when we were in Spain and the weather was hot and steamy.
But I have loved wearing that chain, because of what it means both to me and us as a couple. It has meant that He is never far from my thoughts and has at times been a way of bringing my actions and behaviours back into line with what He expects from me.

But now, I have something new. A lovely new cuff that I won’t be able to slip over my hand and take off (as I actually could with the chain). Something more permanent and which goes with the collar that I will wear soon – when the right size one arrives (yes, we had a measuring accident).

But even though my new cuff isn’t a chain, I am definitely still chained to Him.