She hoped she could hold onto that feeling, because she really, really wanted to do so.

Gripping her elbow, Jon turned her toward him then, pressing her back against the side of the limo. “I told you not to wear a necklace for a reason tonight. Lift your chin.” She did, her eyes glued on him as he produced a collar in a midnight blue velvet that matched her dress. She wondered how he"d gotten it so quickly, but she was starting to accept that Jon had amazing resources at his fingertips. Like her earlier chains, the collar had a heart-shaped padlock in the back as a fastener. It also had a dainty silver D-link embedded at the 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 all 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 collar. The strap was over two inches wide, brushing her collar 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 collar"s thin but stiff material.

“This isn"t your permanent collar. 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 will tell 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 collar,” 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 all 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. “Tell 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 really 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 full attention. “You, deciding to do something that truly frightened or hurt you, out of some misguided idea that my happiness is different from your well-being. They are one and the same.”

As her face began to reflect the struggle and misery Jon understood too well, 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 will 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 all 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 will punish you in ways that will drive in the lesson so hard, you"ll 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, all 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 swallowed 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 hell with anyone watching.

“Jon…please. I understand.”

He twisted his touch, stroking his knuckles on that sensitive spot inside. “Not what you call 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 really wanted. It could make her chest tight, as if she were going to cry. However, his expression was patient as well 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 all 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 all, 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 willing 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 well 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 actually occurring. Right now it was a male sub in a stock being fucked by another large male. The sub sucked frantically 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 swollen 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 small 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, fully revealing it as he did so, watching the screen with her. Though it was a shadowed, dim environment, it still 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 all 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 all the things that embraced the soul of a child. Having those things confirmed, reinforced. Celebrated.