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  “I have to go.” Her feet stay planted, and she looks up at me as though she’s begging me for permission to leave. She’s not mine yet. That’s painfully obvious. But I’m not going to let her get away with that shit.

  “You will never lie to me again.” My voice is hard. She doesn’t have to go.

  She furiously shakes her head and insists, “I’m not lying.” Her voice is laced with fear. “I really do have to go. I am not well right now.” Her breathing is coming in panicked breaths.

  “That doesn’t mean you need to go. If you’re in need, all you need to do is tell me.” Adrenaline courses through my blood. I’m frustrated and angry. I should have planned this out better.

  “I don’t want to.” She answers honestly, and I rub my thumb on the back of her hand. This is too much, too soon. I fucking hate Joe Levi in this moment. I wanted her comfortable. I wanted to take things slower.

  I kiss the back of her hand and nod.

  “This was too much for you, wasn’t it?” Her eyes widen and she starts to answer, but closes her mouth.

  “You don’t understand.” I do. I fucking understand everything. Had I played this right, she wouldn’t be feeling so insecure. I can fix this.

  “You’ll come back here. Tomorrow night.” I give her the command. She focuses her full attention on me. Her submission is obvious. “If you’d like to continue this, of course.”

  “I would,” she answers in a hushed voice.

  “I would too, kitten. I understand you need time to process this. Take tonight and tomorrow during the day to think about things. And then you’ll come back here. Wait for me in the dining hall. I don’t want you coming back here without a collar on.”

  She nods her head obediently. “I’ll do that.”

  “You’re going to think of me tonight, kitten,” I lean into her, whispering and gripping her a little tighter, “but you will not touch yourself.”

  I can see the desire back in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes”. Part of me wants to push her further tonight. Take her to a private room and talk to her about her needs. I can reassure her that I can provide for her, just as I know she can provide for me.

  But she does need to process this. I need her full commitment, and without her willing to wear my collar, I don’t have that.

  Tonight I will make her a list. I should have already made her a clear set of rules. She’s a creature of habit and routines, and she desires a Master. Which means she needs rules.

  This is my fault. But I will make it right.

  Chapter 8

  Katia

  I roll over in the bed, unable to sleep, my nipples hard, my clit pulsing with desire. A low groan of sexual frustration escapes my lips as I scissor my legs together, trying to calm the incessant clenching of my pussy. It’s been plaguing me ever since I left the club, along with the memory of my mouth being used for Isaac’s pleasure.

  Fuck.

  I loved it. I loved every second of being with him. Being used and commanded. I roll over again, my body covered with a sheen of sweat. It’s so fucking hot in here. It doesn’t help that I’m on fire with desire, primed and ready for another explosive orgasm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wish I hadn’t left. I need more. I want more. I should’ve stayed.

  There was so much left to say to Isaac, so much to explore. God, I want him. The way he walked up and challenged the other Master for my body and then took control of me was so fucking sexy. My skin pricks as I remember the determination Isaac displayed in getting his way with me, the way he made me take all of his length.

  My limbs shudder, and my clit throbs as the memory of choking on Isaac’s massive cock while he plunged his fingers in and out of my pussy runs through my mind. Another moan of frustration escapes my lips. It was so fucking hot. Isaac had been in complete control the whole time. It was unreal. He’d instantly known what I wanted. What I fucking needed.

  And I need more of it. Now.

  I have to go back, I decide, resisting the urge to reach down and smack my throbbing clit the way he did. I can’t wait. The only problem is I’m afraid of committing completely. Afraid of the unknown. In the club though, I’ll be safe.

  I roll over again, feeling frustrated and wanting to grind my pussy against the bedding so I can get some relief. But he told me not to. I don’t have permission. The very thought makes me breathe easier. I will obey him. I will not disappoint him.

  I can’t get over how powerful and commanding he was. The look in his eyes behind that mask… full of desire. I hear the roar of engines outside, cars passing by on the highway, adding to my frustration. The sounds aren’t helping keep me from falling asleep, but even if they weren’t there, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I’m too wound up and needing his touch. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted like this. Since I felt this need.

  But it isn't like not being able to sleep is anything new. There’ve been many nights I’ve been unable to sleep, but for a different reason entirely. A shiver goes down my spine, and a weight presses down on my chest. I close my eyes and shake my head, refusing to go there.

  I ignore the emotions threatening to smother me, suffocating me like they have night after night as another pulse rocks my clit. I’m too excited. Since getting my life back, I’ve dreamed of a place like Club X, somewhere I could fulfill my fantasies and make myself whole again. I deserve happiness in every way. Including my sexual needs, but I hadn’t found an outlet. Until today.

  But he wants more. A collar. I grip my throat, my pulse picking up speed, remembering the metal chain around my neck and the spikes that dug painfully into my skin.

  No, I think and shake my head, not wanting to go there. To the dark memories. But it’s too late. I can't stop feeling the sensation of the choking collar my Master used to train me. The desire burning up my body flees as a flood of fear washes over me and I sit upright in the bed, my heart pounding like a battering ram. The burning sweat covering my skin turns cold as I try to gain control.

  Isaac is not like that, I tell myself. He won’t be like that.

  There should be no comparison. The two aren’t even remotely the same. A collar would be the only thing that they have in common. And the title. Master. I already feel something with Isaac that I never felt with my previous Master. Respect. It’s hard to understand, though. In some ways, Isaac reminds me of Master O.

  Tears prick my eyes as I remember the only Master that was nice to me. Whenever I was around him, I felt safe. He was caring, and always sensitive to my needs and wants. In a way, I hated him for making me feel safe because I wanted him to take me away and make me his. But he never did. He had the power to save me, but didn’t. I felt betrayed by that, like he’d put on this show to be nice to me when he really didn’t care about me. None of them ever did.

  I pull my knees to my chest, instinctively wrapping my fingers around my ankle. I was so filled with desire from tonight’s events, I forgot to cover my ankle with my weighted blanket. But I need it now. I sit there for what seems like hours, but it’s only a few minutes. Listening to the cars pass by outside, my heart thudding in my chest, I keep trying to push away those dark memories.

  It’s gone. It’s in the past. I’ve dealt with these emotions. I thought I’d come to terms with them.

  Lies, the dark voice whispers inside of me. You’d barely acknowledged their existence.

  I take in a shuddering breath, refusing to listen and counting softly in my head as I repeat the poem Fire and Ice over and over again. It’s a trick I learned to lessen my anxiety, long ago. Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.

  I close my eyes, whispering the poem I’ve memorized and letting the calming cadence block out all other thoughts until my heart has settled and the rush of adrenaline has waned. I just need to try to get some sleep.

  Sighing, I crawl off my small bed, and it groans as I place my bare feet on the cold floor and go over to the chair in the corner where my heavy blanket lies neatly folded. It’s weighted and not meant
for this use, but it works. With it under my arm, I walk back over to the bed, climbing in and then laying the familiar throw across my left ankle.

  I need it. I need to feel the weight as though it’s the shackle. Without it there, sometimes I wake up late at night, feeling just how I felt before. Right after I stabbed him to death and took the keys from his pocket, frantically searching for the one that fit the lock on the cast iron shackle that had been on my ankle for four years. The deepest scars I have are on the thin skin covering the knobby bone of my ankle. Whenever he’d drag me, replacing the other end of the chain with a weighted ball, the metal would cut into me. He didn’t care.

  To tell the truth, I learned to take that pain and focus on it rather than what he’d do to me.

  I didn’t fear much, but that night, when he told me he was giving me to Javier and that I should be good for him, I was terrified. He warned me that I had better not be bad and make him break my arm again. He said I was getting old, and he’d have no use for a Slave with a bum arm. I couldn’t take it anymore. Something inside of me finally snapped.

  The fear wasn't fully realized until the lock came off and the weight was lifted from my ankle. I had the fear that I’d never get out. That they’d catch me and slowly torture me. That fear was so strong it nearly crippled me. If I failed to find my freedom, I knew I was dead.

  Without the weight on my ankle at night, I tend to wake up feeling the same racing pulse through my blood and fear of death that nearly suffocates me.

  I lie back and go still, waiting for the sleep to take me and the memories to fade. It’s this position that I learned to sleep in years ago. Images of Master O and Master C continue to haunt me, causing me to want to toss and turn. But just like all those years ago, I don’t move with the weight on my ankle, holding me in place.

  Finally, I close my eyes and try to concentrate on Isaac. His calm, commanding presence. His piercing green eyes. His massive, throbbing cock. My body relaxes as the vision of my possible new Master pushes the other two from my mind. My breathing becomes more stable, and the sweats leave my body as I’m finally able to drift off into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Isaac

  The thrum of excitement is pulsing through the club as the pounding of the bass makes everything come alive with the need to sway to the beat. The lights flicker in time with the sultry music, and the women hanging from the swings in the center of the room and dancing in the cages on the stage sway their hips and flip their hair, their hands traveling along their bodies seductively.

  Strips of their hair are decorated with a glow-in-the-dark paint in different neon colors. The dining hall is no longer a restaurant. The tables have been removed, and the dance floor and up lighting have created what’s needed for the themed night. And this side of the club is dark.

  It’s meant to allow for some particular kinks tonight. Voyeurism being clearly evident.

  Several couples are on the dance floor, and although at first it may seem that they’re grinding in beat to the music and dancing like the others, they aren’t. A woman on the outskirts of the crowd has her lips parted as her Dom thrusts from behind her. Her dress is only slightly raised in front, but I can see that it’s lifted from behind. A rough laugh rises up my chest as he pumps in time with the music, holding her small frame to him. Her eyes are glazed over, and her neck is turned to the side.

  This room is alive with sin.

  The four women swinging from the ceiling are tempting the men below. They don’t work for the club. Neither do the women in the cages. They’re simply Submissives who are enjoying the clublike atmosphere. Nights like tonight provide the women a little more room to be free spirited, so long as their Dominants allow it.

  I’m not on duty tonight. Nonetheless, my eyes scan the room. I’m just waiting for her. For my kitten. I have a small bag with a pure white simple silk dress, the straps made of thin gold chains. I brought a toy for her too that I’m eager to attach to her. It's a thin gold chain that matches the dress. It’ll wrap around her neck, but it’s more of a necklace, and very lightweight, so it's comfortable. The best feature is the long chain that will fall between her breasts and under the dress with a clip that secures around her clit. It’s not tight, not painful, but a simple tug will elicit a spike of pleasure through her body. I intend to use it as a training mechanism for her tonight. I have my list of rules and requirements. One being she must wear this in place of a collar.

  It’s a fair compromise. I don’t know what I’ll do if she denies me this request. I want her, but I need her submission. Her complete submission. Both for her benefit, and for mine.

  “I’m assuming you collared her?” A deep voice from my right grabs my attention. Joe Levi. It pisses me off. Not because he’s out of line for asking, but because I have to answer that I didn’t.

  “She’s not ready,” I answer easily, as though I’m not in the least upset by the fact.

  “Oh?” he says, and his eyebrows raise and I can tell he’s genuinely surprised.

  “She’s mine.” I don't care if she doesn’t have a collar. He had better not go near her.

  “Understood,” he responds easily. “I have no intention of encroaching…” He takes a sip of whiskey from the short glass in his hand before adding, “so long as she shows no desire for me.”

  My eyes narrow, and I take the man in. His crisp suit is fitted perfectly to him. His broad shoulders mean it’s custom. The man has an air of darkness around him, and it doesn’t help that I know he’s a crook. He’s associated with bad men, with criminals. I have no fucking clue why he’s even in here. Of course he’s masked. We all are. But no one here is a fool, and it’s obvious to one another who most of the men here are. There are only a few I’m not privy to knowing. Joshua and Madam Lynn are fully aware all the patrons though. Beyond them, some of the masked men are a mystery, even to me.

  But there is no mystery to Joe Levi. His name has been headlined in the paper, and by some dumb luck he’s never been convicted of any of the crimes he's been accused of.

  The lights bounce around the room, glinting off his mask as he turns to walk away from me.

  “No hard feelings, I hope?” he asks with his hand on my shoulder.

  “None yet,” I answer in a low voice. He only chuckles and walks toward the edge of the room, setting his empty glass on a silver tray held by a waitress. She gives him a tight smile and continues making her way around the edge of the room, avoiding the sea of bodies on the dance floor.

  I’m not interested in staying here. I’m merely waiting for Katia. As soon as she walks into the foyer, I’ll see her from this position. I watch Joe’s back as he disappears into the darkness, searching for whatever he came for.

  There’s no way in hell we’re staying here. In fact, as soon as she agrees to the rules, I have no intention of keeping her here at all. I want her in my home. In her room. Available to me at all times.

  That’s where she belongs.

  Fuck, I need her, too. I need her to ease this tension. Lucian called and needed a loose end taken care of. It was easy to find the perp, but setting up the hit required a delicate balance with two of my contacts. I’m on edge and in need. I can’t let it affect her. But I fucking need her.

  But first she has to submit to me. I know she’s scared of taking that jump, but all she has to do is agree and then I will make everything so much easier for her. I’ll take the weight of her pain away, and give her a new purpose to replace the past that haunts her.

  My fingers itch to check the rules again. My nerves are getting the best of me as I pull the paper from my pocket.

  I rewrote them a few times, paying close attention to the wording of each line.

  Rules are not something easily transferred from one slave to the next. Each is different, and each has their own needs and requirements. Katia is especially different and sensitive in what I must have her agree to.

  The music seems louder as I unfold the paper and read each lin
e.

  RULES

  1. You will wear my chain. Always. In and out of the club with pride, signifying my ownership of you.

  2. You will not allow anyone to touch it, and you will also not touch the chain.

  3. When we are apart, you will write my name on a body part of my choosing. Your attire and the place of my name will be decided by me and sent to you the night before.

  4. You will stay with me when you’re able. Conditions may be discussed.

  5. You will serve, obey, and please your Master. And you will never show disrespect for your Master.

  6. You will worship my body, and I will worship yours in return.

  7. To receive pleasure, you must earn it.

  8. You will trust me in all things.

  9. You will not hesitate when responding to me, and you will be specific in your speech.

  10. You will thank me for your discipline and punishments as much as your rewards.

  11. You will always be in submission to your Master.

  12. All of your choices will be based on whether or not they will please me.

  13. Your eyes will never be cast down, and your head never bowed. You represent me, and you will demand respect.

  14. You will keep your sex shaved and never wear undergarments. In my presence, your sex and ass will be available to me at all times. As well as your mouth.

  15. All of your worries and fears will be the burden of your Master.

  16. You will not hesitate to obey your Master.

  17. You will always be ready to please your Master.

  18. You are my greatest treasure, and your trust in me will not be taken for granted.

  19. You will never reach an orgasm without explicit permission given. Should you do so, you will be swiftly and severely punished. I own your pleasure.