Devon left his friend Gregory and mingled through the crowd of Masters and Slaves. Caitlin followed behind watching every move her Master's feet made....She didn't dare look up and risk meeting the eyes of another patron. A handsome young slave dressed in a black bow tie and cumber bun held out a tray filled with Champaign. Devon slowly reached towards him past the tray and lifted his chin to look at his face. His high cheekbones and full lips gave him a boyish appearance, which matched his. The one thing that the collar could not, or perhaps would not, control was her tears. Since the moment that she felt the collar slide around her throat and heard the click of the latch sealing her fate, her face had been continually wet with tears. There were tears for the beautiful clothes she would never wear again. There were tears for the looks and words of the lowly servants whom she had once ordered about with her own cold commands. And now that the collar had brought her back into. More

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