Page 13 of Reclaiming His Soulmate

After the Slot Scene Spectacular, they spent the rest of that weekend in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, only to emerge for food and other necessities. Sunday night, Clarissa flew to New Mexico with Landon to continue celebrating their reunion. At the end of the week, they quietly eloped to Las Vegas during the filming break, or at least they tried to. As soon as the paparazzi heard they were spotted together, the bottom-feeding photographers and reporters descended on Sin City and the small town of Hawk’s Landing, trying to get interviews andphotos of them. The studio needed to assign extra security so the filming schedule wasn’t interrupted.

The tabloids and entertainment news channels went ballistic over the release of the evidence against Ivy Green and the hoax she’d fabricated. It was the top headline, second only to Landon and Clarissa’s elopement, for nine days until another scandal replaced it. Lawsuits were filed on the couple’s behalf—intentional infliction of emotional distress and loss of marital relations for both and defamation of character, civil fraud, and unlawful use of a false likeness for him. Frank Harrison and the guy who photoshopped the images for Ivy were willing to testify against her. Both were embarrassed and remorseful about their roles in her scheme when it became evident she only used them to advance her career and fame. Hollywood had since blackballed her—no one in the entertainment business would work with her again. Well, maybe the porn film companies and magazines, but that was it.

While the couple declined to give any interviews at the request of their lawyers and publicists, Clarissa was more than happy to show off her original engagement and wedding rings, now back on her finger where they belonged. They also gave the press some photo opportunities the day before Clarissa flew to Oregon by strolling down Hawk’s Landings’ quaint main street, hand in hand, and stopping at some of the local businesses. Bodyguards and police officers ensured the photographers maintained a quiet, respectable distance from the newlyweds while allowing the townspeople to interact with them. Despite the chaos, she had to admit it was a fun day, especially when Landon showed off his skateboard skills to a few teenagers who cheered him on. It’d been a while since he was on one, but he still rocked it. His publicist loved the pictures and shared them on his social media pages, which they handled since he couldn’t be bothered.

Now that both productions had finished filming, the couple was back in Tampa at The Covenant for an official collaring ceremony, or re-collaring as was the case. They figured it was appropriate to have it there since the owners, staff, and members played a part in getting them back together. Clarissa’s lifestyle friends were excited and spent the day with her, shopping for new fet-wear and having lunch together to celebrate, while Landon relaxed by the pool, reading a new script. It was a sentimental romance between a couple in their early forties, and the producers wanted to cast Clarissa as the lead female character while her husband directed it. According to the latest headlines, the movie would establish that the Hollywood power couple was back and stronger than ever, something Clarissa already knew in her heart.

As she changed into the blush-colored corset, panties, thigh-high stockings, and slippers she purchased that afternoon, Luna, Angie, Shelby, Abigail, and Kristen, Devon’s wife, helped her while dressing in their own fet-wear. Many other women came and went, changing their clothes and using the facilities. They congratulated Clarrisa on her marriage and the upcoming ceremony before heading out into the club.

Kristen sat and put on a pair of black ballet slippers. “I was surprised Landon finished his film on time after replacing that actress Vanessa Hart.”

“Oh, don’t call her an actress in front of him,” Clarissa responded as Angie finished tying her corset in the back, tight enough to lift Clarissa’s breasts up and together, yet not too much that she couldn’t breathe. “Still a very sore subject. I have no idea why the producers and casting agents thought a social media influencer with no formal training could star in a major production. But after they saw the cuts he sent them before we went to Vegas, they agreed she wasn’t right for the role.” She was replaced with the young actress Landon initially wanted to workwith on the film—a far better choice, in Clarissa’s opinion. “I was grateful because it meant his blood pressure wouldn’t spike every day because Vanessa constantly screwed up the scenes. His doctor was ready to put him on medication if he didn’t calm down.”

After pulling on the thigh-highs and sliding her feet into the slippers, she stood and approached the vanity mirror. She’d done her hair and makeup at home, but her lipstick needed to be fixed. She grabbed her purse from the locker and found the little silver tube. Applying the color to her lips, she was surprised that her hand didn’t shake. She wasn’t nervous, unlike the first time Landon collared her in a similar ceremony at a Los Angeles club they belonged to. Then again, the same could be said for their recent elopement compared to their first wedding. Gone were all the worries that giving her heart away would only result in it being broken. Landon was her soulmate, and this time, she would remain by his side until death separated them, hopefully some forty to fifty years in the future. Never again would she doubt him or his love and fidelity.

“Ready, Clarissa?” Shelby asked. The sweet pixie of a woman wore one of her usual matching outfits from head to toe. While going through cancer twice and kicking its ass both times, Shelby had gotten used to wearing colorful wigs at the club to hide her hair loss, complementing her fet-wear. Even though her blonde hair had grown back, she still loved wearing the hairpieces. Tonight’s color was lavender, matching her corset and mini-skirt. Shelby was one of those women who could wear most colors without looking pale or sallow, a trait many would envy.

She checked her reflection in the mirror one more time. Her hair was in a fancy updo, so Landon could easily place the collar around her neck. The only other jewelry she wore wereher wedding and engagement rings and diamond stud earrings. “Ready.”

Everyone but Luna and Abigail hugged her, then left through the door leading to the club’s bottom floor. The two women joined her in the stairwell and followed her upstairs. They, along with Master Ryan, were her escorts for the ceremony—sort of like bridesmaids and a male relative giving her away. There were many similarities between a collaring ceremony and a wedding, but how much so was determined by the Dom and sub. Some were intimate, with only a few in attendance, while others were on a grand scale, like tonight. Angie told Clarissa earlier that most of the nearly five hundred club members planned to oversee the celebrity couple’s ceremony.

At the top of the stairs, they entered the main club by the bar, where Master Ryan waited for her. The balcony was full of onlookers who could watch the ritual from above. When they noticed her, regular conversations dropped to whispers and murmurs. She smiled at everyone but remained silent. From that point until she was officially collared, she would only speak when responding to questions from Masters Landon, Ryan, and Ian, who would perform the ceremony.

She took Master Ryan’s proffered arm, and they followed Luna and Abigail toward the grand staircase leading down into the pit. They paused at the top, and the din in the pit died down as all heads turned toward her. Angie was right—the entire membership appeared to be in attendance to witness the ceremony. The regular club music was turned off, replaced by a soundtrack of instrumental versions of the couple’s favorite love songs they’d chosen for the occasion.

In the middle of the cavernous bottom floor was a round stage for ceremonies and demonstrations. That’s where Landon awaited her, looking so damn handsome that she thought he deserved to be in front of a camera, not behind it directingothers. He wore all black—a button-down shirt, leather pants, and a pair of new Tony Lama cowboy boots she’d bought him in Hawk’s Landing during their public shopping excursion.

Her heart pounded, and her breath hitched, but from elation and not nerves. Even with the physical distance between them, she could see his gentle smile and the love in his eyes. She felt tears well up but blinked them back, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

Master Ian spoke into a microphone, his booming voice filling the club. “We’re about to begin. Submissives, please kneel.” About half the members lowered themselves to the floor if they hadn’t already been in position.

“Ready, Clarissa?” Master Ryan asked in a low voice.

Her gaze never left Landon. “Yes, Sir. More than I’ll ever be.”

He squeezed her hand, which was wrapped around his arm, and then nodded at Luna and Abigail, indicating that they should start their descent.

When the two women were halfway down the grand staircase, Master Ryan and Clarissa began to follow. Once at the bottom, they walked down the aisle leading to the stage. Instead of stepping onto the raised platform, Luna and Abigail veered off to the right and knelt on pillows beside Abigail’s husbands, Masters Gray and Remi.

Master Ryan escorted Clarissa onto the stage, and they stopped in front of Masters Ian and Landon. When she noticed Landon’s watery eyes as he took her hand from Master Ryan, her own tears, which she’d successfully held at bay until then, spilled over, and she sniffled.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Landon whispered, holding her hand as she knelt on a large burgundy pillow before him. “You look stunning. I love you.”

She beamed at him, silently letting him know she felt the same about him, before dropping her gaze to his feet.

The music volume was reduced until it was just faint enough to be heard in the background. Master Ian lifted the microphone. “Master Landon, do you wish to collar your submissive and vow to be her protector?”

“I do.”

“Clarissa, are you willing to be collared by Master Landon?”

Keeping her eyes downcast, Clarissa responded, “Yes, I am, Sir.”

“And are you doing so under your own free will?”

“Yes, I am, Sir.”

“Extend your arms, sub.”

Landon produced the blush-colored scarf Clarissa had purchased with her outfit and wrapped it around her arms, binding them together. Next, he pulled a double-row pink diamond and platinum necklace from his pocket—the same one he’d collared her with years before. He’d asked if she wanted a new one, but she declined because nothing could top that—together, they’d designed the $60,000 choker with a famous jeweler in L.A.

“Clarissa, my love, tonight I commit myself to you. I will love, honor, respect, and cherish you for the rest of my days on this Earth. You are my heart, my soul, my sun, my moon, and my everything. I willneverhold another above you.Never,” he repeated emphatically. “You belong to me, just as I belong to you, and I vow to protect you as long as we both shall live. Will you accept this collar as a symbol of my ownership and our devotion to each other?”

She cleared her throat of the lump that formed there during his speech. “Yes, Sir, I accept your collar as a sign of your ownership and our devotion. In return, I vow to love, honor, respect, and cherish you until my final day on this Earth.”

The collar didn’t have a lock like others did, but Master Ian still placed a symbolic vintage-looking platinum key intoClarissa’s hand. “Sub, present your Dom with the key to your heart and submission.”

She handed it to Landon. “I now belong to you, my Master. Now and always.”

When he held out his other hand to help her up, she took it and stood. Her gaze met his, and she only had a second to register his wicked expression before he dipped her and crushed their mouths together in an erotic kiss to end all kisses. The crowd applauded, cheered, and whistled, but Clarissa’s brain and body only focused on one person—Landon. Her soulmate. Her destiny. Her reason for being. Her everything.

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