Collared [Excerpt]

Chapter Eight

ABIGAIL PUSHED THE iron door with quivering hands. Goosebumps layered her skin, making her feel like a featherless chicken as she stepped into the chilly January night.

She pulled out her phone from the inside of her coat to call a cab but quickly changed her mind. A cab would take her home too soon and she wanted to prolong the events of the night she'd finally met her master.

At three in the morning, it wasn't safe for a young woman to walk the streets of New York City on her own. So, Abigail walked the twenty blocks to her home with her hand tightly closed around the pepper spray her mother had suggested she get ever since she turned twelve and was allowed to walk to and from school on her own. She was into orgies, not rape.

Thinking of Master Trice lessened the night's fright.

He'd come to her with the sole purpose to own her and by the end of the night, he'd achieved his goal. She was sure at any moment during the tour he'd take her in a room and have his way with her and she wouldn't have objected. In fact, she'd wished for it.

His establishment was exquisite, depicting the Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece.

It made her giddy to know they had something in common. Though she rarely paid attention in class, she could still remember most of the mythologies she'd had to memorize for her midterms and final exams.

She wondered what drew Master Trice to the Greek Gods. Was it their veins flowing with ichor that made them immortal? Or was it simply that he wanted to be worshipped?

All of a sudden, Abigail felt a need to know everything there was to know about Master Trice. His age. His favorite color, food, movie. What made him smile, though she doubted he ever did. Why her out of all the women she was sure threw themselves at him?

When he explained he had another submissive and was expected to have sex with her, something tightened in her stomach. She'd never been with a woman before and had never had the desire to do so. She didn't know what to make of it but if it was one of Master Trice's rules, she'd obey it faithfully.

Abigail couldn't wait to be fucked in front of an audience. She couldn't wait to be shared, spanked, cut, and suspended by her arms. She couldn't wait to see her master naked. She was sure he had a muscular frame. His clothes were tight fitted, exposing the rigid muscles beneath as he'd tried to control his ire.

Walking on eggshells around him was going to be a challenge Abigail couldn't wait to embark on. She was going to do everything in her power to please him, even if it was for two nights and two days out of the week.

When Abigail got home, she slipped off her shoes and went straight to the shower. She didn't want to wash the night away but knew if she didn't, she wouldn't be able to fall asleep with such an intoxicating smell on her body.

While she washed clean of the sins she'd witnessed, she made a mental to-do list for the upcoming week.

• finish editing chapter twenty of Katie Mahony's book
• call Mike
• have lunch with Mom
• get a Brazilian wax
• talk to my gynecologist
• buy a new pair of underwear

She closed the shower's handle and towel-dried before getting into bed.

Abigail shut her eyes and let out a tranquil sigh. It was much easier to fall asleep knowing her dreams would come true when she'd wake.