Summer fidgeted in the waiting room. The Center staff had dressed her out all pretty in pale green, hair twined in a long braid and waiting to be pulled or wrapped around her throat. Subtle makeup enhanced her eyes, and her nails were trimmed short and painted a soft shell pink.

Dealing with a new client, especially one who had exclusivity privileges, was always hard; especially for someone who served as a submissive but wasn’t naturally so. She knew nothing about this client save her name and gender — not her preferences nor her appearance.

Skyy. Summer put her fingers to her bare throat, trying to imagine what kind of collar a person named Skyy would put on her. Would it be feminine and dainty, or would Skyy be the leather-and-chains sort?