Chapter 3 - Welcome to 'Collared'

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Chapter 3

(Master Dom and Saville's friend, Mason Eastwood and his Husband Kody pictures above)

Saville's POV:

    It was the energy that captured me first. The blind ambition, the hustle and work that flowed through the streets could be felt just by standing in the center. So many moving parts and people that the whole scape felt impossible to capture, and in ways, it is.

    New York City, I'm sure has been described in much larger and more meaningful words than the ones I thought, but nothing could do it justice like being here. It truly was the epicenter of the modern world, packed-full of everything you could imagine. The smell was different and exotic, then a gust of wind would blow and you could get an entirely different taste of the city.

    I loved it. Point blank, I loved it here. It really was a place that if you wanted too, and even if you didn't want too, you could get lost in the energy, the movement and the bodies. Just as I wanted, I got lost and I mean that in the way that no one on the crowded streets recognized me. Especially after an A+ dye job at the salon, I was feeling better and livelier than anytime in the past few months in Los Angeles.

    Finn stuck by my side the entire way from the salon to the hotel and never once let anyone else tap me, let alone touch me. He was a quiet guy, but very good at what he does and extremely protective of those under his care. Just as we arrived at the Four Seasons, I made sure that Finn had us reserved under aliases.

    It might sound like a Hollywood trick, or even some stupid myth that celebrities use fake names when checking in to hotels, but it isn't. I completely ignored the Front Desk and let Finn check us in so they didn't know or guess at who I truly was.

    You see, Hotels, even good ones have a tendency for having loose lips, especially in the staff that doesn't have anything else to lose. They sell celebrity names and locations to magazines, news shows, or anyone asking and giving cash in return.

    After coming to town a week before production, the film team didn't have time to cement my living arrangements. I assured them this was completely fine and that I would pay for my own hotel and would move into their rented apartment when it's ready. It was a calm discussion and very easy to arrange everything, and so far, I liked the team on the ground for this film.

    Since I had a week in Manhattan to do what I wanted, I decided that it was probably a good/bad idea to take Mason up on his offer. A night at a completely exclusive, no phone, no pictures, no nothing kind of club sounded like a safe outing. I didn't want paparazzi catching me stumbling out of a club on the East Coast at 2 a.m. now did I?

    Very seriously, Mason mentioned that I would have to sign an NDA before going into any part of the Members Only area of his club. Apparently, 10 years ago, Mason opened two attached clubs in the center of Chelsea, Manhattan. One club was your regular nightclub, discotheque kinda place filled with anyone who could get in that night. It was a safe place, very up-and-up legally.

    The other side of the club though, that was a doozy. A members only, exclusive, secure and fully monitored BDSM club. Collared.

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    A 10 p.m. UberBlack ride to Chelsea later and I was standing in front of gates. At least a 12 foot, black enclosed gating that wrapped around the side of this building. You couldn't see in, and believe me, after a little frustration, I tried. A quick call to Mason had rectified the situation... to a certain extent.

    Mason had accurately described a voice box on one of the walls near the drive way that you could buzz the building inside with. The problem? You needed a membership card to even press the button. Apparently, Mason, the owner of the club and the person who invited me tonight forgot about this certain security measure.

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