Barefoot and Pregnant

Elizabeth was heavily pregnant. She was in the kitchen of Broadus's home, serving pancakes to the children. She was barefoot, wearing stretchy yoga pants, and an apron. Her breasts were swollen with milk for the son she was about to birth. The only other adornment was a simple wedding ring with a black stone instead of a diamond, and a thick steel collar around her throat.

Broadus preferred how it looked to the rough leather collars. The leashes were thick chain-link steel now, almost as if she was an animal. It was clasped around her throat, and cinched tightly, an omnipresent reminder of her submission.

Not that she needed more reminders. A big disciplinarian, Broadus had purchased custom paddles for Elizabeth and the children. For Elizabeth, she also quavered in fear when the stocky Black man pulled her paddle off the wall, grabbing her wrist and taking her to the bedroom to paddle her ass for her latest transgression. Even today, her ass was a bright pink under the leggings. She was owned, utterly.