Chapter Eleven
The restaurant was casual, yet dark and alluring. I coveted the scant illumination, since I was still self-conscious in the clothes Jackson had me wear. The blouse was thin, tinted pale shades of blush and rose, but otherwise quite see-through. There was little to disguise my breasts with their jeweled n*****s. I wore a short skirt and spiked heels, and nothing else but my cuffs and, as an added touch, the heavy collar Jackson purchased from Jetty. He must have liked the way it instantly defined me as a s****l submissive, for it certainly was not stylish in any way. It was a miserable looking thing. But just looking in the mirror at the crude and heavy iron ringing my throat gave me an unmistakable thrill. Captured. Owned. Property. I loved every idea it brought to mind. O
