Authors: Joey W. Hill
front, with a translucent
blue crystal pendant dangling from it.
A word etched in
silver floated inside the teardrop
shape.
Owned.
In feminine brushscript, that one
significant word was al
lowercase, because of course, capital
emphasis wasn’t
needed. It was in the eyes of the
Master watching her
reaction, how she closed her fingers
on it, her own form of
possessiveness, as he fastened the
col ar. The strap was
over two inches wide, brushing her
col ar bone and putting
pressure on her throat almost up to
her chin. The width
accentuated the length of her neck and
gave her an even
more owned feeling than the pendant,
though she loved the
way it dangled and teased, a patter of
reminder through the
col ar’s thin but stiff material.
“This isn’t your permanent col ar. It’s
not quite ready yet.”
He gave the strap a little tug, his
fingers whispering over
her hold on the pendant, the flicker in
his eyes saying he’d
registered the heat that it had created
in hers. “But this wil
tel anyone that you have a Master.”
He slid the wrap off her shoulders
then, dropping it back
through the open window of the limo.
Then he gave her that
meticulous, appraising look.
“There’s no way I’d let you in there
without that col ar,” he
said, a growl entering his voice. “I
want to make it clear that
you’re hands off…unless I give
anyone permission to touch
you. How would you feel about that,
Rachel?”
It was hard to articulate it, with his
gaze so very close, but
she’d thought about it quite a bit over
the past couple days,
stimulated by what had happened in
his office, with Max,
and the way those holographic
images had made her feel.
As if her body had been recharging al
afternoon, it was
suddenly revved and ready for this,
eager. But her mind felt
thick and clumsy over the question.
She was better with
intuitive, physical responses than
answering such a thing,
but she knew he wouldn’t let her get
out of it.
“I would feel… If it was for your
pleasure…it would be
okay.”
“No.” He caught her chin, his finger
linking into that D-
ring. “Tel your Master.”
“If it’s someone…who belongs to
you. Not that, exactly. A
part of who you are, what you are…
like…” She was going
to say Max, but her gaze in that
direction was enough. “Or
the others…you work with.” She
remembered Peter and
Lucas again, those intimate touches
that were so casual.
“Touching. I think I find that…
exciting. If you’re part of it. And
if it’s not…” It seemed way too
demanding to say she
wasn’t sure she wanted anyone but
Jon inside her, between
her legs. “If it’s…some stranger,
someone you don’t
know…or you’re not real y there, I
don’t think I’d like that as
much. But I’d do…whatever you
want me to do. If it made
you happy.”
“You know what makes me extremely
unhappy, Rachel?”
He pushed her back flat against the
limo, caging her with
his arms. The sudden aggression, his
uncompromising
tone, demanded her ful attention.
“You, deciding to do
something that truly frightened or hurt
you, out of some
misguided idea that my happiness is
different from your
wel -being. They are one and the
same.”
* * * * *
As her face began to reflect the
struggle and misery Jon
understood too wel , he wanted to
curse the past that had
done this to her. She was so excited,
fresh and beautiful,
she had no idea how captivating she
was. He refused to let
anything mar that tonight. So he
touched her chin, her lips,
adding gentleness to bring her wary
gaze back up to his. “I
know what kind of submissive you
are, that you
would
do
anything I wanted. That’s what
caused things to go in such a
wrong direction with your husband.
You’re not with him,
you’re with me. I wil stay attuned to
your emotions and
needs, Rachel, but part of what I
absolutely require as your
Master is that you stay honest with
me, at al levels. Your
pleasure drives mine, do you
understand?”
He knew his eyes had cooled,
conveying the current of
dangerous steel he carried beneath
his usual calm,
because he saw it in the nervous
press of her lips, the
quiver of excitement it also caused.
“If you
ever
do
something that frightens or causes you
the wrong kind of
emotional or physical pain, just
because you thought it
would please me, I wil punish you in
ways that wil drive in
the lesson so hard, you’l never do it
again. You
understand? Say it.”
“I-I understand. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t demand your apology, sweet
girl.” He pressed a
kiss to her mouth then, teasing her
lips open and making
her moan as his hand slipped
between them, dipped below
that very short, snug skirt. With
unerring accuracy, he slid
two fingers directly into her pussy, al
the way to the base
knuckle. As she caught his arm,
fingers digging in, her eyes
lifting to him in aroused shock, he
spoke through taut lips.
“Repeat the lesson.”
“I…my pleasure…drives yours. Oh
God…” Rachel
swal owed as he rubbed her inside,
withdrew and drove
back in. In another moment she was
going to wrap her legs
around his hips, let him finger fuck
her to climax, to hel with
anyone watching. “Jon…please. I
understand.”
He twisted his touch, stroking his
knuckles on that
sensitive spot inside. “Not what you
cal me, Rachel. Not
without my permission.”
“Master,” she managed, and let out a
throaty sound that
caught the attention of several
passersby. She saw several
knowing glances thrown their way as
they continued to
move toward the door, recognizing a
Master handling his
submissive. It turned her on even
more.
“I don’t…I don’t want anyone inside
me but you. But other
things…might be okay. But no matter
what…what you
want…I trust you.” After so many
years of having to guard
her words, it was so difficult to say
what she real y wanted. It
could make her chest tight, as if she
were going to cry.
However, his expression was patient
as wel as expectant.
Though he was doing his best to
drive her past her
inhibitions with one hand, it was the
other one, stroking
wisps of her hair away from her
temple, lingering on her
cheek, that gave her courage. When it
got right down to it,
for better or worse, she trusted him to
know her better than
she knew herself.
“I…don’t want to
not
try something
that you know I might
want, just because I’m afraid. But the
actual sex…” Jon’s
cock sliding into her cunt, that
connection, the energy that
met there… “I don’t think I want to
share that with anyone
else.”
“Good girl.” He eased out of her,
brought his hand to her
lips. “Clean your Master’s fingers.”
She did, and as she did, she was
quietly amazed at how
al her senses targeted him rather than
their surroundings.
He was in complete command of
everything.
When she was done, he used a
handkerchief to finish the
job, then slid the cloth back into his
coat pocket before
taking her arm and guiding her to the
club doors.
There was a member check-in area,
but Jon was waved
through with a quick glance from the
maître d’. While that
made her think of who else he might
have brought here, she
remembered his earlier words. He
hadn’t been required to
say what he’d said to her—after al ,
she’d made it clear she
hadn’t expected commitment or
monogamy—so it
underscored the possible truthfulness
of it, that bringing her
here was special, not just another
casual submissive. Now,
whether or not she would be in an
emotional position to
believe that later, when she was in
her right mind…
But right now, her body was singing,
and her heart and
not-right mind were wil ing to join in
the chorus. Particularly
in such a magical environment. She
felt like sex-on-stilettos.
She enjoyed the way it felt, walking
in the shoes, letting the
snug hold of the dress dictate her
pendulum-hip
movements as they headed into the
public play area. The
dance floor levels lay beyond, but it
was this immediate
area that grabbed her by the throat.
Surreal had a lot of mist, lights and
silver props, as wel
as view screens of different areas
that those sitting in
booths or at the bar could enjoy
without crowding up to the
place where the action was actual y
occurring. Right now it
was a male sub in a stock being
fucked by another large
male. The sub sucked frantical y on
the strap-on cock of a
Domme in front of him, her black-
gloved hand gripping his
hair to make him suck her faster,
bumping the clit stimulator
against her with a more pleasing
pressure and rhythm.
On another screen, a female
submissive was suspended
in an elaborate rope bondage harness
that included tight
cinching around her breasts. They
were swol en and
flushed, nipples almost blue and
enormous from the
constriction. She was being spanked
with a paddle that
had holes, leaving circular red marks
on her pale flesh. She
was crying as she came, her body
shuddering, face flushed
with ecstasy.
Watching that on the screen stopped
Rachel in her
tracks. Jon’s hand slid from the smal
of her back to her
buttock. As she watched, he gathered
the hem of her
micro-dress, inching it up until he
was fondling her ass, ful y
revealing it as he did so, watching
the screen with her.
Though it was a shadowed, dim
environment, it stil
aroused her intensely, him enjoying
her as he wished,
where his ownership and her place
as his property was
completely accepted. She’d taken the
step from
submissive to slave, and liked the
idea of him considering
her al his in that way.
Further, it had only taken her a matter
of seconds to feel
right about it. She’d waited her
whole life to feel like this, to
be in a moment like this, surrounded
by others who were
immersed in the feelings and needs
she had… People who
understood
. It was like being a child and coming to
Disneyland for the first time, seeing
al the things that
embraced the soul of a child. Having
those things
confirmed, reinforced. Celebrated.
* * * * *
Ben leaned back on the bar, one foot
braced on the
bottom rail of his stool as he took a
swal ow of his drink.
Like the other two sitting with him,
he watched Jon’s
progress through the public play area,
letting Rachel see
the sights.
“Most of the closet ones are shy and
tentative the first
time, looking for reassurance. Look
at her.” The lawyer
gestured, a faint smile on his face,
though his green eyes
were serious, tracking her almost as
closely as Jon. “The
only reason she’s hesitating is the
same reason a kid in a
candy store does. There’s so much
here she wants, she’s
not sure where to start. Good for her.
God, I love an older
woman. Even when they’ve been
busted up inside, they’l
reach for what they want with both
hands, if you clear the
road enough.”
Lucas dipped his head, but a frown
was creasing his
brow. “No argument, but she’s too
unstable yet. She’s stil
running from that pain, not facing it
head-on. She doesn’t
believe down to her soul that she can
trust him.”
“And it’s been what? Not quite forty-
eight hours? Our