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He lifted her to her knees, caught his finger beneath the collar. "You've made this too tight, baby. Trying to please your Master." He loosened it a notch, and she realized she could breathe a little easier. "Your handler should have checked that. I'll be sure to take it out on his ass."

She felt a twinge of sympathy for Troy, but she also wondered if she'd have the sadistic pleasure of witnessing it. The soldier gave her a sharp tug with the lead that had her stumbling to her feet, his hand grasping her arm to keep her from falling. Once she was steady, he dropped the lead and she let out a whimper as he unclamped the nipple je

welry, removing the chains that connected them to the collar so she wore just the collar and the thong. He cupped her breasts, massaged her nipples with his thumbs as the painful tingle made her shudder, bite back another whimper.

"They're nice and swollen now. I have an oil at home that, when painted on nipples, makes them stay aroused and stiff for hours. When I rub it onto your pussy, it will keep you so worked up I'll have to gag you to stop you begging to be fucked."

Her lips parted, that whimper turning into a pleading noise. She was almost at that point now. He stepped back, taking his hands away.

"You'll go with the two who brought you here tonight. They'll bring you to my home."

She didn't want him to leave her again, and she made a movement forward before she thought to restrain herself. He touched her face, telling her he wasn't displeased with her show of preference, but his voice was uncompromising.

"You'll behave, or I'll hear of it. You're mine now. You'll be a credit to my ownership, or you'll face punishment."

She swallowed, sinking back down to her knees to convey her obedience. As his footsteps receded, she heard two other sets approaching. Though she stayed in place as she'd been bid, she had an overpowering need to be with her Master again. Was that part of full submission, this swelling anxiety unless her Master was near?

Troy and Shale stood over her, speaking as if indifferent to her presence, a pet patiently sitting at their feet, though Troy did pick up the tether, since she felt the tug on the collar from his direction.

"I was surprised he bid so high," Troy said. "He's not the romantic type."

"He's a Master." Shale's voice reflected cool amusement. "It's not romance like candy and flowers, but something that means even more. When it's the one you want to belong to you, not just the one you're owning for the moment, you'd pay anything for that."

Her voice softened over those words. Madison suspected she'd reached out to touch some part of Troy, the one who belonged to her. The silence suggested Troy was responding to that, probably with one of those scorching looks the two of them liked to exchange.

"It reminds me of the first day he saw her." Troy paused. "I saw this look on his face, like when he's at the club and figuring out if a new member is a sub or Dom, or just vanilla out for a lark. I was pretty sure I knew what she was, because I could feel it, like a kinship, a sub-to-sub thing. But I wanted to be sure he and I were on the same page, so I said outright, 'She's a sub, right?'"

She remembered that first day, coming into their hardware store to bring the UPS package that Clarence had left at the wrong store. She also remembered the weighted feel of Logan's eyes on her as she'd gone back to her own store. This had happened at that moment. Troy's careful wording told Madison he was trying to communicate something about the reality that had led them here, without disrupting the fantasy, and she was hanging onto every word.

"He looked at me as if he was coming out of some dark tunnel," Troy said. "He blinked, then smiled that smile he has."

"Dangerous, make-a-woman's-knees-weak?"

"If you want to put it that way." Troy sounded a little aggrieved.

"Don't be a baby. What did he say when you asked if she was a sub?" Shale's voice was warm, teasing.

"'Oh yeah. Through and through.' I asked him if he was thinking of taking her into training, but he shook his head, said he was interested in something more than that. 'I want to see the spark turn into a fire.' That's what he said. I guess this is our answer. He didn't want to train her. He wanted to own her."

Madison drew in a breath. He already did, didn't he? Alice had given her to him.

Troy twitched the tether attached to her collar, the little tug a silent message of accord and reassurance she welcomed.

Did all guided fantasies work like this, or was it unique to her, what she was feeling, who she was? Yes, Logan had done everything to draw her into the role of Nameless Slave, bound to a Master she desired to serve above everything else in life. He knew so much about her, including her penchant for dress-up, for role-playing with her sister when she was young. He also knew just how far she'd taken herself away from play and make-believe for the past few years, such that she was starving for it now, but starving for it with an adult woman's desires and needs. She didn't even want to think of herself as Madison. She was simply the soldier's property now.

Yet Troy's words pointed out the message that kept replaying itself, whenever she was involved with Logan this way. This wasn't happening just because of Logan's consummate skill at creating the sensory input for a viable fantasy, but also because of her own deep-seated desires and needs that meshed with his. She'd worried about being enough of a sub for him, but he'd said it that night on the stairs, hadn't he?

"It's not my switch you need to worry about turning off."

She thought about how she'd reacted each time he'd led her down this path. Uncertain, one hand tentatively holding on to her perceived reality, but as Logan took her other hand, took command, she let go of that reality without hesitation and let him take her into his.

Into theirs.

A radio chirped, maybe on Troy's belt, because she heard him unclip it. "Sir?"

"I'm done up front. Bring her to my compound. I'll be just ahead of you."

"Yes sir."

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