I felt all eyes in the club turn towards me as we stepped across the threshold. I tried to lower my eyes and let my hair drift across my face, hoping ...o one would recognize me. Surely anyone who saw me could hardly recognize Jennifer Nevins, the all-American college girl, in this submitted, collared slave. Or could they? I looked around. The club was busy but not filled. There were people who looked like masters, people who looked like slaves, and a majority of indeterminate status. The. “I guess not,” but once said I felt a strange closeness to Veronica but a dull ache of guilt towards my absent wife, as if I’d just committed an act of unfaithfulness and betrayal. The way Veronica smiled in response only exaggerating both conflicting emotions I was feeling.I was rewarded with a kiss and a hug, and a question to match my own.“Did you enjoy that?” she smiled hopefully at me.“What do you think?” I answered rhetorically. “I felt like one of those oilfield blow-outs when I came. I. More

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