Page 60 of To Catch a Sub

The collar was two strips of leather that buckled together at the back of the neck. On the front, a short length of matte black chain looped through the D rings at the end of each leather strip.

Colette carefully buckled it around her neck. It hung loose, until she tugged at the large O-ring on the chain, tightening it.

Black leather curved around the sides of her neck, while the chain formed an inverted triangle at the front. The top of the upside-down triangle stretched across her neck, while the O-ring rested on her upper chest. The name necklace with its tiny letter beads was framed within the triangle made by the chain.

Colette tugged on the chain, closing her eyes to savor the experience as the collar pressed against her. It wasn’t enough to choke her, just enough to make her feel safe and dominated.

For a moment she let herself indulge, and pretend it wasn’t her hand tugging on the collar.

Opening her eyes, Colette took a steady breath, feeling more centered than she had before. Hopefully wearing the collar would both deter anyone from thinking she was actively looking for a partner the way Master Red had, and take the edge off her need to submit.

Now wearing a collar, she slipped back into the club, the music from below so loud it felt like a physical touch. Hoping no one had noticed she was gone, Colette went to collect her tray from the bar.

She fell into the bar when someone tackle hugged her from behind.

“Oof.”

“Sorry!” Kitten sang out. “It’s time for shots!”

“Shots?” Colette turned in time to see Baby sashay over, Toy right behind her carrying a bunch of black towels in one gloved hand. He dumped the towels in a laundry bin, threw away the glove, then joined them at the bar.

“Shots,” Baby confirmed.

“Normally we do one before our shift, but Master Rolf took longer getting us ready tonight, so we’ll do them now.” Kitten turned and smiled at Naughty, who already had four shot glasses lined up on the bar.

“Screaming orgasms.” Naughty slid the brown and white layered shots over to them.

“Not that we’re having any.” Toy heaved an exaggerated sigh.

“Har har, don’t remind us.” Baby raised her glass. “Cheers, sluts.”

Colette clinked glasses, and tossed back the shot, which tasted like a vodka-laced almond-milk latte.

It was warm and creamy going down her throat, and when she swallowed, she felt the pressure of the chain against her neck.

“I heard Rose ask for heavy impact.” Kitten licked the inside of her glass. “Something about a bad day at work.”

“Is someone going to scene with her?” Baby asked.

“I heard Master Rolf say he couldn’t do it, but would find someone.”

Colette set her glass down with a contented sigh—the collar and alcohol together had her feeling a lot better than she had twenty minutes ago.

The others gossiped for a few more minutes, but Colette was getting restless. She grabbed her tray. “I’m going to go serve the shit out of some drinks.”

The others whooped and hollered as she walked away, so Colette added a little butt wiggle, the collar secure around her neck.

FOURTEEN

“How do you want it?”

“Hard. I want bruises.”

Landon yanked on her hair, forcing her head back, though she couldn’t move far given that her arms were stretched up and out, bound to the St. Andrew’s Cross.

“Try again,” he growled.

“I’d like it hard, please, Sir,” the blond sub said contritely.