A enchanted collar

You open a drawer on your alchemy bench and pull a leather collar out. It has three stone plates with runes engraved. This was one of your experiments some time ago. To be honest, you had no idea you would really use it anytime soon.

“Do you know what this is?” you ask and show the paladin the collar.

“Is … is this a **** collar?” Valeria asks horrified, “take this thing away from me! Are you insane? It uses the darkest possible kind of magic. It punishes disobedience and suppresses the free mind of the victim with daemonic magic. They were illegal even before the last daemonic war. The holy order convinced all kingdoms to forbid these evil things and punish everyone who dares to use or even keep one of them. Whoever uses them loses his life and his soul.”

“Don’t be naive!” you hiss angry, “these collars may be forbidden, but still several tyrant kingdoms and warlords use them. Your order is allied with some of them too. And the other kingdoms at least use weaker versions for prisoners. Your order too. Or do you think the runes on the cell doors are just decoration?”

“That’s … That’s not true!” Valeria cries angry, “these runes are just to block magic and daemonic influence. The holy order would never use such evil magic.”

“I’m tired of your naivety,” you reply harsh and come closer, “stretch your neck!”

“NO!” Valeria screams and fights with all her might against the ropes, “get away from me with your hellish artefacts!”

You have to admit, that this girl is stronger than she looks. The ropes and knots are strong enough to keep her on the chair and make It almost impossible to move, but you have some trouble putting the collar on her. She struggles and blocks with her chin. After some time, she even manages to make the chair tip over. But it only annoys you. Her struggle is useless. You are already in charge and it is about time she learns her place for her stay. Finally, after some tries and brute ****, you manage to place the collar around her neck and close it with a padlock. Some tears roll down Valeria’s cheeks when she realizes she has lost.

“Listen, you stubborn brat!” you demand angry and **** Valeria to look at you, “the collar hurts you every time you try to refuse my orders. I order you to not take it off or damage it! This includes to neutralize the daemonic magic with your paladin skills. Don’t even try it! And you will not try to harm or attack me! You will also not run away. In fact, you will not even leave this clearing unless I allow it! Do you understand me?”

“You bastard,” Valeria cries under tears, “you pay for this you disgusting pig! I kill you myself and throw your soul in the abyss where it belongs.”

“I count this as a >Yes, master, thank you for your clear orders<,” you reply and begin to open Valerias knots, “by the way, what I told you was true. I don’t want to kill you. I just need you under control until I can move my home to a different forest. Afterwards, you are free to go back to your order or wherever you want.”

You open the knots and free Valeria. When the collar works, she should be no danger for you now. And if not, that you made a terrible mistake while building it and it would be your own fault. Valeria glares at you angry. You know that she is going to attack you, despite what you just said. You can see it in her eyes.

As soon as she can, she jumps at you. Her hands around your throat ready to **** you to ****. You try to hold her off first, but her strength is remarkable. However, less than a second before she reaches you, the runes on the collar begin to glow red. Valeria screams in pain, but still tries to ignore the pain and **** you. She can’t keep it up for more than a few moments before the pain get too intense. Gasping and crying, your victim goes to her knees and sobs slightly.

“It seems the collar is working,” you reply a little out of breath and rub your neck where you were choked, “don’t ever try this again! Just accept your temporary role in my home and I promise you, it will be half as bad.”

“This … is … not … over!” Valeria gasps out of breath and holds her sore neck, “you will … regret this … son of a whore.”