Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Being collared this way is a big deal. It’s not something one just jumps into for funzies. And it’s to be taken seriously, not just by the people in the relationship, but by everyone in the community. That collar is a symbol of ownership, in a way that’s much stricter than a wedding ring. Lots of people see a wedding ring and blow it off, not caring if someone they want is married. They’ll still go after them, try to get them to cheat, with no respect for the piece of metal on their finger.
In the BDSM community, though, a collar around a sub’s neck is not something to fuck with. People who live this lifestyle understand that a permanent collar is not something given lightly. It’s not a friendship bracelet. It’s not something that can be faked. It’s not something to be done for any type of convenience, like an arranged marriage might be. That collar was given and accepted because that’s what both people wanted, so it should be respected.
And I freaking love that about this world I’m a part of, because everyone I’ve ever met in it understands that and lives by it. If someone doesn’t, word spreads fast. The openness of this community also means it’s very hard to keep bad behavior hidden. All I’d have to do as a sub-in-training—or even before this stage—is ask one of Zen’s former subs if he’s someone I can trust. I could ask her things like if he respects safewords, if there are red flags I should watch out for, and personal things like why they went their separate ways, if it’s something I should be aware of.
I mean… that is, if he weren’t in total stealth mode on the internet and I could find a damn thing about him.
Just then, my phone dings, and I see the banner pull down from the top of my screen showing it’s a notification from the man himself.
RomanticSadist:
The green floral one… with the red wig I see hanging in the background. It’s Gaga, so might as well go all out and have a hot Poison Ivy vibe. I expect pictures, my little plant princess.
“What’s that face?” Vi asks me like she always does when I turn off my ears and instead start listening to the voices inside my head.
But this time, that’s not what happened. A giddy smile took over my expression when I saw his name and what he chose, and I didn’t bother trying to hide it. Observant and considerate as fuck, and he just so happened to choose the perfect partner-in-crime outfit to go with Vi’s Catwoman that Corbin picked out for her without even knowing it.
“I have a lot to catch you up on tonight, bestie. But for now, just know Plant Daddy has been procured,” I tell her, because earlier, before I snapped a pic of the three outfits I have laying across my bed and sent them to Zen, he ordered that I wasn’t to dumpster dive anymore. And before I could very promptly revoke all consent for him to tell me what to do when I’m not naked, he informed me it was because he’d just stick all the plants that were to be thrown away in his truck instead of tossing them in the trash.
Somehow he knew that would mean more to me than buying me fresh ones.
But instead of looking giddy right along with me, her face falls, and she pouts. “But what about Sir Jeremy? I thought you were going to talk to him. That meet cute would’ve been freaking adorable to tell at your wedding, and it would’ve all been thanks to me if y’all got your happily ever after!”
“Baby, this isn’t one of your books. If Sienna found someone she likes without your help, you shouldn’t give her shit for it. You should be happy for her,” Corbin tells her, and she glares at him in the reflection of her mirror.
Before my BFF can get herself into trouble, I jump in and let her know, “It’ll still be thanks to you if we get a happily ever after, Vi. I met him on one of the dating sites, and it was your idea for me to join them.” I don’t tell her it also happens to be Gym Daddy… who also turned out to be Dumpster Daddy, because I have got to see her face in person to get the full effect of her reaction when she finds out.
That seems to pacify her enough I feel I’m in the clear to hang up without her receiving a spanking that would have her complaining all night about how uncomfortable it is to sit at the concert later.
But I gotta leave her with a little teaser, because after all, I’m not called the Cliffhanger Queen by my readers for no reason.