“I understand, Mistress.”
She patted my head affectionately, as if I were a pet dog. “Good boy.”
I did as she asked.
We had sprouty croissant sandwiches, sitting next to each other at the same atrium café where we’d eaten after our first visit to the church. I was wearing my collar and cage. My key dangled hidden between Reva’s breasts, its slender chain a tantalizing reminder of her power over me. The café was more crowded now that school was back in session. Her leg pressed against mine, warm and silky soft. She began speaking as we finished our sandwiches.
“You deliberately disobeyed Becca. That cannot happen again.”
“It won’t, Mistress. We’d just met and I didn’t understand.”
She nodded. “Nonetheless, even if what you do is for our pleasure, you must never disobey. There will be
