“Lift your hair.”

With trembling fingers, Anna lifted her hair away from her neck. The posture collar was prettier than most, with bands of metal connected to plates at the front and back. The plate at the back had a hinge, while the front had a series of metal closures. He slid it around her neck and closed it with a small click. It was wider in front, dipping down to touch the top of her breastbone.

“You will be careful while you wear this.”

“Yes, Master.”

He pulled a small Allen-wrench-like key from his pocket and used it to screw the fastenings together. There were no buckles, no safety latches. He’d fastened her in and only the key he held could get her out. Anna trembled, her eyes on the far wall. The posture collar kept her chin raised a fraction higher than was comfortable. She could still talk, and turn her head a limited amount.

“Look at me.”

Anna met her Master’s gaze. He stroked her cheek. “I know you hate it, but you’re beautifully submissive when you wear it.”

It was true. Though her arms and legs were free, she felt as bound as if she were hanging from the ceiling in rope.

“I’m happy to please you, Master.”

He squeezed her breast.

of our day. Go to the Subs’ Garden. You aren’t allowed

“Yes, Master.”

hard and

through her, Anna left their room. She hoped he didn’t make

* * *

midnight and there were only a few other subs milling about. Members who hadn’t reserved play time or space for this weekend had gone home. Others were off meeting with their checklist partners, planning when they’d work through their letter. Some were ensconced in playrooms with their Owners or Masters, since the rules said that they had to complete their checklist items within the month, not that they were

not let herself get too worked up by the

play. Mae knew nothing. She hadn’t been contacted, either over the loudspeaker system that allowed the Doms to make announcements in the subs-only spaces, or by paper

her way any time soon, angry—that her partner hadn’t contacted her, and worried that somehow, for some reason, she hadn’t been included in the game. Mae wasn’t used to being alone. When she

the night and see what happened in the morning, using the downtime to get some work done—her phone and tablet were in her locker—but

immediately, but she could change into her street clothes and get ready to go. Rising to her feet, she left the lounge for the locker room, keying in the code and taking her phone and glasses out of her designer purse. Slipping on the glasses,

“Mae?”

and older than Mae, but maybe not as much as anyone would have guessed. She had waves of lush dark hair and wore a long black silk robe, held closed

startled me.” Mae tapped her chest, just over her heart. “I was just going to

“Don’t. Come with me.”

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