BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Chapter 17

“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.

Go to the Subs’ Garden. You aren’t allowed to view any

“Yes, Master.”

hard

their room. She hoped he didn’t make her

* * *

Oscuras. It was nearly 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

herself get too worked up by the woman’s moans of pleasure. A few of her favorite Doms had approached her while she watched the scene, but she’d gently replied that she wasn’t free to play, making sure

least when they were expected to be here to 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 message delivered by a few slaves who’d been tasked to play mail carrier. Envelope after envelope had arrived to the Subs’ Garden,

her mood light. Her emotions were a mess of arousal—which was an almost Pavlovian response to being at Las Palmas, frustrated—since it didn’t seem like a scene or orgasm was coming her way any time soon, angry—that her

could stay 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 if she was going to work she

lounge for the locker

“Mae?”

of her name, Mae jumped slightly, knocking the locker door closed. Gabriela, Master Leo’s bonded submissive, was standing in the doorway. She was a lovely Hispanic woman and older than Mae, but maybe not as much as anyone would have guessed. She had waves of lush dark hair and wore

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

“Don’t. Come with me.”

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