The Velvet Collar

by C. P. Mandara

  "Don't even think of running. I have a gun in my back left, and I'll put a bullet in your brain." Kyle had a key for the next door, which he produced out of his pocket and swiftly unlocking it, we found ourselves outside in a parking lot. There was no one about at this time of night, and besides, there was no access to the public from this side of the building. It was unlikely we'd see anyone. Fuck. This had all been too easy. He'd snatched me from right under my husband's nose, and in five minutes I'd probably be miles away. What could I do? As he pulled me along in his vicelike grip I look around wildly. Please God let there be someone about. Anyone would do, I just needed a distraction.

  We were headed towards a bright red sports car. Trust Kyle to pick the flashiest car he could find for an abduction. Sometimes I almost credited him with intelligence, but right now he was certifiably insane. There was no way I was getting in that car with him. The police wouldn't have a chance of catching it.

  As my brain frantically tried to come up with a plan, or anything that might help me get away alive, blinding lights suddenly hit us from above. For some reason the emergency backup had come on, on top of the regular ones, and that was all the distraction I needed. Tugging ferociously at Kyle's arm I gave a swift kick to his shin, and in the confusion he let me go for a second. That second was all I needed. Sprinting off in the opposite direction far faster than my legs wanted to carry me, I was met with a snag. Feeling Kyle's hand brush against the cape that had been draped around my shoulders, I simply pulled my shoulders back and let the thing fly off me.

  Adrenaline pounded through me as I did my best to beat the world land speed record, but realistically, I knew it wouldn't be long before Kyle caught up with me. I have never been much of a runner, and even my best fear-fuelled attempt wasn't going to keep him off my back for long. Just as that depressing thought hit me, a handful of security guards came bursting through the door we'd just vacated, giving Kyle a headache on a grand scale. Did he come after me, or save his butt? I was counting on the latter, and I ran around the outer perimeter of the parking lot until my lungs felt like they were bursting. Making sure I didn't go anywhere near the exit lane, in case Kyle decided to stop and yank me inside the car, I tried my best to run in the opposite direction. I didn't care where I was headed, I just wanted it to be as far away from him as possible.

  Hearing the mighty roar of a car engine being revved up to the max, I took cover behind a large white Range Rover. If he had no clue as to my whereabouts, that had to be a good thing, so I sat as still as a mouse and tried not to breathe. As it turned out, Kyle wasn't interested in me at that point. He left the parking lot as if his wheels were on fire and I sank to the floor as the shock of the evening crashed down upon me. Drowning in self-pity for a few moments, I then realised that Mark would be worried sick about me somewhere, and I had to get back inside the nightclub and let him know I was okay.

  I sighed and slumped down in my seat. The retelling of the tale had sobered me up from the exhilaration of my escape, and depression was quickly setting in. Kyle Levison and my father would not give up until they had what they wanted, and until then, my overprotective husband would have me under house arrest. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be going anywhere on my own at that moment, either, but a girl liked to have some freedom every now and again.

  "Don't worry. We'll get them. It's just a matter of time. We can't let them win."

  My husband grasped the hand that was still in his lap and gave it a tight squeeze. I squeezed back, but it was a little on the lacklustre side. Kyle had come so close to winning this evening, that I should be screaming and crying right now. Actually, I had no idea why I wasn't, although I knew it wouldn't do me much good.

  "Do you still want me to torment you when we get home? I'll understand if you just want to go straight to bed."

  "Oh hell yes," I said, horrified at the prospect of missing a night of the good stuff.

  Mark shook his head. "When are you going to get it in your head, Mrs Matthews, that I do not tolerate swearing? That's another fifty spanks added to your tally. By the way, if you want an extra long foreplay session this evening, I'd get back to what you were doing if I were you."

  I looked at Mark, flexed my fingers and grinned. Did I want an extra long session of foreplay? Wasn't that just prolonging the inevitable, while he had lots of fun and I suffered immeasurably?

  "Of course, if you don't want an extra long session, I can be finished within about two minutes, five if you're lucky - but I can't guarantee you'll orgasm in that time."

  "Why you..." Punching my husband on the arm as hard as I could, given the short distance available in the car, I wisely didn't let the tirade of swear words out that were rattling around inside my head. Unfastening Mark's zipper, I grabbed a tight hold of his semi-erect cock in my left hand and set about doing as much damage as I could before our ride was over. I planned to have him pleading and begging for a blowjob before we got indoors, and I was going to give it everything I'd got.

  Chapter Sixteen - Mark

  Jennifer now had her mouth, lips, and occasionally teeth upon my cock, and this was not a good combination when I was driving. It was my own fault. After twenty minutes of teasing, my boxer shorts were a dripping wet mess, and I needed relief in the worst way. When she offered her services to solve this problem by means of an orgasm, I automatically declined, however. Road safety is a very serious thing and anyone who says he can concentrate while on the receiving end of a blowjob is having a really bad one, that's all I can say. Jennifer didn't take no for an answer, of course. She was stubborn like me in that regard. I sent lots of threats her way to curb her enthusiasm. Fifty strokes from the paddle, flogger, and crop was a good start, I thought, but that completely fell on deaf ears. I then threatened to torment her with oral sex for an hour, and that turned into two when she wouldn't stop. That had no effect on her either, and I was a little bit disturbed that I wouldn't be able to carry through with all these threats, but that didn't stop me from making another. My last and final warning, which came with a blinding flash of light, was that if she didn't behave herself right this instant, she would have disobeyed me and that would mean an end to her night of dominance. As I fully expected her to continue, I figured I'd at least solve one problem. These were baby steps for me. Although I'd had my fair share of women in my time, I'd never really had any meaningful relationships, and no one told me marriage came without a handbook. There were so many pitfalls you could easily fall into without realising it, and trying your best to avoid tears, hysterics, and dismemberment was a delicate business.

  I noted with a frown that Jennifer had removed her mouth from my cock and was now sitting upright with her hands in her lap. Was it something I said? Glowering, I looked at her, and said, "What are you doing?"

  "What I am told, Sir." She had a little smirk playing around her lips, and I wanted to strangle her. Frowning harder, I inwardly cursed my own stupidity.

  "Well, that's a refreshing first." Except that it wasn't.

  "I thought so, too." Jennifer pretended to look out of the window. In fact, she was looking just about everywhere but at me. As it was nearing midnight, and everything was shrouded in a thick coat of black, I didn't think she was paying as much attention to the landscape as she would like me to believe.

  "Why are you so desperate to dominate me?" It was a question I needed to ask. Sophia had pretty much choked me off the idea of female domination for life, so there was little chance she was going to get her way, but any insight into the workings of my wife's completely erratic brain could be useful.

  When she didn't answer my question immediately I looked at her, but she was still pretending to be studying the landscape. "Jennifer. Remember you have to do everything I ask of you in order to get your night. Are you refusing to answer my question?" My voice was dangerously quiet.

  "You are using the dirtiest tactics, Mr Matthews." Jen turned around and gave me a sullen look. She then fingered the soft silk of my bowtie that w
as still tied tightly around my neck and began to loosen it.

  "Are you disobeying me?" I think I was going to enjoy this game. We would have to play it more often.

  "No. I'm just taking my time obeying you. There was no time limit specified, so be patient. I've had a rough evening." That shut me up for a minute, but it was more to do with the soft flicks of my wife's fingertips around my neck. How could even that tiny act be arousing? Seriously, the effect she had on me was nothing short of cataclysmic. When she'd unravelled the bow she pulled it from my neck with infinite slowness, rubbing the thin sheet of silk across my neck as she did so. I growled. She then took the tie up to her nose and breathed in my scent, and that made me growl all the more.

  "I love it when you go all alpha male on me." Undoing the top two buttons of my shirt she opened my collar, and I had to admit it was a little easier to breathe. "Feel better?"

  "Answer the question," I barked. Yes, I was a little upset that her mouth was not still upon my cock, and yes, I was probably taking it out on her, but she'd started this.

  "You won't like it..." she trilled in a sing-song voice. That made me mad. Now I really needed to hear that answer. Taking a quick moment to wonder whether my wife was playing me, and rather effortlessly at that, my eyebrows furrowed. Jennifer wasn't stupid, I already knew that, but perhaps I'd underestimated her level of cunning. Maybe I needed to readdress that at the earliest opportunity.

  "Fine. You are disobeying me and the night of femdom is officially off. Don't say I didn't warn..." As I was spitting mad at this point, for all manner of reasons, my tone was now lethal. It had the edge and menace of a serial killer, with the firm tone of a headmaster. I was quite proud of it. Letting the last word hang in the balance I waited for my wife to interrupt me, and sure enough, I wasn't disappointed.

  "Okay. Okay. There are several reasons. Firstly, every now and again I wouldn't mind getting my own back. You are always in a position of power, and every now and again I wouldn't mind a little slice of that. Secondly, it would turn me on something fierce to have you at my beck and call for the evening, and judging by most of the females in Escape, I am probably not alone in this fantasy. Finally, I want a little of what you gave Sophia; your devotion, your complete and utter surrender, and your trust. If you want to be dominated again in the future, I want you to come to me. Though I am not a jealous woman by nature, if you go and see her again I will not be responsible for my actions." Jen's fists opened and closed, and I could see that her temper was up. Well, well. My kittykat had claws.

  "I see." Funnily enough, I was more inclined to let her have her evening, now I knew the reasoning behind it, but don't get me wrong, I wasn't that keen.

  "I don't think you do." Jen absently fingered the outline of the glove box in front of her as she considered her next words, and I knew I wasn't going to like this.

  "Imagine me in bed with another man. Imagine that. Now I know that wasn't what you did with Sophia, but you were halfway there. The thought of what she did to you makes my blood boil." Jen banged her fist against the dash, and I looked at her in surprise.

  "I am never going to imagine you in bed with another man. There would be an almost certain jail sentence if I was forced to do that." I got her point, though, even if it was moot. There was zero chance I was ever going back to Sophia. Those bridges had been well and truly burned. "I give you my word that I will not see Sophia in any context but as a friend from now on. Does that stop your need for domination?" Pulling into the driveway, I was relieved to hear the crunch of gravel that indicated we were home.

  "No. I still want my night, but it does make me feel a little better." Jen offered a small smile in my direction.

  "Do you know what's going to make me feel good this evening?" As I came around to undo her door, helping her out of the car, I relished the feel of her soft, silky skin against my hands. My wife had better not be tired. There was no way I was going to sleep until I'd had my fill of her.

  "No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me." Jen wrinkled her face up, as she wondered what I would say next.

  "Having you do everything I say without question. I won't even need to tie you up and gag you. This is going to be bliss. It might almost be worth getting my ass spanked for." The wolf was back.

  "You're incorrigible." My wife waggled her eyebrows at me, and said, "Do your worst, darling."

  Honestly, that wasn't a very bright thing to say to a starving man. The woman deserved all she got.

  Two hours later, my wife was a hot mess. In that time I'd tested her newfound "obedience" to the limit. The first thing I did was ask her to take on the role of stripper, in order to tease me. I thought she'd instantly refuse and put an end to all this nonsense. To my surprise, she did no such thing. In fact, I think she took it as a personal challenge because what happened next nearly blew my mind.

  Putting on a playlist, mostly by hip-hop rapper types I had never heard of, she began unzipping her dress. The words "Drop it like it's hot" kept repeating themselves ad nauseam, but thankfully I'd gone mostly deaf. My eyes were glued to Jen's gyrating body going up and down and round in circles. The red satin of her dress shimmered in the dim lighting of the room, and when she beckoned me forward from my spot of the edge of the bed, I was quick to comply. Rubbing up against me, she began unfastening the buttons on my shirt, and it was fucking incredible. I could feel her breath on my neck and the faint remains of Chanel No5 on the air. Having come to associate that smell with my wife, it didn't take long for the scent to become intoxicating.

  When the dress began riding up over her legs, exposing the silky smooth, gently tanned flesh of her thighs, my hands were all over her.

  "Uh, uh, uh," she purred, waggling her finger. "You're not allowed to touch strippers." The woman then dared to raise her eyebrow at me, and that definitely sent my blood pressure through the roof.

  "Unless you haven't noticed, I make the rules here, and you obey. If you do as you're told you'll get your night - but only if you play by my rules - and they say I can touch you as much as I like," I growled. Already aroused to breaking point, there was a good chance I was suffering just as much as Jen was. Sure enough, that dress of hers took a good twenty minutes to come off, and as I already knew she was wearing no underwear beneath it, my cock went wild. Inch by slow inch, the satin bunched up around her waist and my fingers were stroking, kneading, and embracing her flesh in every direction. They moved all over her legs and had particular fun with her ass, which, judging from the little mewling sounds she was making, was still a bit sore from earlier. Then, when I saw her pupils go dark, they moved between the juncture of her legs, finding hot, sweet nectar to dive into. I coated my fingers with it. Applying it liberally all over her clit, Jen really began to dance, and she was a little less coordinated as the dress started to rise higher. Letting her amuse me for a while longer, my fingers continued to dance on her clit, hopefully getting her just as aroused as I was. Eventually losing patience, I tore the rest of the dress off her and threw her down on the bed.

  "Stretch your arms up and grip the headboard. Then don't move, okay?" She nodded, her lithe arms reaching up to grab two metal poles.

  "Now stretch those legs wide, darling. I'm ordering you to keep them like that unless directed otherwise, and I may be some time. We clear?" She nodded at me and did exactly as I said. Her lips were already deliciously swollen from my kisses, and her face was hot and flushed. Wanting to run my fingers through her long blonde tresses until I had buried them in there so deep they would get lost, I positioned my body on top of hers, holding most of my weight on my arms so I wouldn't suffocate her.

  "You are wearing far too many clothes, darling," she purred. An animalistic look of passion shot from her eyes to mine, and the woman looked almost feral.

  "I forgot to mention that you aren't allowed to talk, either." Was that too evil? Probably, but it was too late to worry about that now. I wanted her trapped inside her own little head, unable to beg for release, and
entirely at my mercy. Today I was in charge, and I damn well wanted her to know about it. So for the next hour I set about covering her body with my fingers, lips, and tongue. No part of the delightful canvas in front of me went untouched, but some parts got more attention than others - a lot more attention.

  Somehow Jennifer managed to obey my commands to the letter, even though I was extremely careful not to let her come. Continuously edging her to the pinnacle of orgasm, only to deny her at the last minute resulted in lots of squirming and writhing, and plenty of moaning and groaning, but no talking. My wife was deadly serious about this night of dominance, then. It seemed Sophia had really gotten under her skin.

  When Jennifer's body began trembling as the strain of doing what she was told was almost outweighed by exhaustion, I debated telling her she couldn't climax unless she dropped the whole issue. Thankfully, I quickly realised that was going to punish me, too, and I figured there were better ways to tackle the problem. Right now, I just wanted to slam into her until we both saw stars. It was time to revoke the no speaking rule.

  "You get ten seconds to beg me for an orgasm. Make it good, or you're going to sleep without one. Your time starts now."

  Jen's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

  "Ten, nine..." My wife got with the program fairly quickly after that.