The Velvet Collar

by C. P. Mandara

  Mark stood there, for what seemed like ages, as if willing me to change my mind. I would not. This wasn't something he could manipulate me into doing, and the sooner he understood that, the better. Staring him down, I waited patiently for my next instructions.

  "Fine. Basket." He pointed to the corner of the room and stormed off. I almost felt sorry for him.

  It was long past time that my husband needed to realise that not everyone he met could be influenced by money, bribery, or power. These were not tactics that worked on me; I was not one of his employees. Mark might have had everything his own way for most of his adult life, but now he would need to learn to compromise and treat me as an equal partner. If he didn't, we were doomed to failure.

  Crawling over to my ridiculous pet basket, I curled up in a ball and settled down to what would be a restless night's sleep, at best. Though this was a victory of sorts, it felt very hollow - and the war had barely begun.

  Chapter Seven - Mark

  I stormed out of our bedroom with balls that had shot past the colour blue and were heading straight for purple. Why had I started this? Initially it had just been a bit of fun to get my wife to consider the idea of having children again. Somewhere along the line I had suddenly turned into a big bully who wouldn't see reason. Jen was being the sensible one here. Well aware that I was being the irrational one, I cursed myself every which way to stupid. Jen and I had been apart for a week, and now, when I should have been fucking her silly, my blood was raging through my veins because I couldn't cope when I didn't get exactly what I wanted. Yes, I was acting like a spoilt child, and yes, I thoroughly deserved to feel bad. In a moment I would go back upstairs and apologise to my wife, but for the time being I needed a drink to calm myself down. One week was far too long to be apart from Jen, and I needed to start arranging my work schedules more efficiently, or better yet, hire someone to do all the unpleasant stuff for me.

  The trouble is, as you've probably guessed, I'm not happy with the idea of relinquishing control - in any aspect of my life. That might be okay in the boardroom, but it wasn't going to work in a relationship. The thing was, every time we sat down to talk things got out of hand, and Jen usually wound up being tied up and spanked. For someone who was all about control, it appeared I didn't have very much of my own.

  Grabbing a glass of whisky from the bar, and topping it up with a generous helping of ice, I made my way to the sofa and sunk into it gratefully. Taking a large swig of my drink, I wondered what would be the best way to extricate myself from this mess. Putting my head into my hands and rubbing my eyes, I sat there for several minutes, trying to force myself to relax. It didn't really help. The only thing that might work would be going back upstairs and trying to make amends with my wife. It was time to face the music.

  When I entered our bedroom I turned to switch the light on, but then stopped abruptly. There was my wife, adorably curled up in her adult-sized pet basket, fast asleep. Why was I surprised? I'd given her quite the workout today, so she was probably exhausted, poor thing. Grabbing a big cream blanket from the laundry cupboard I gently draped it over her. Quickly getting ready for bed I figured I'd have an early night, and we could both clear the air tomorrow morning. I wasn't a monster, but sometimes I really needed to think before I acted. Getting what I wanted wasn't the priority any more. Having a contented wife who loved me, on the other hand, was.

  "Kittykat's do not sleep in beds."

  I rolled over to check my alarm clock and was amazed to discover it was nine a.m.

  Jen spooned herself around my body, purred in my ear, and licked the side of my cheek. I laughed. I couldn't help myself. Rolling over I pushed her bed-head hair out of her face and tinkled her bell. She meowed and bit me.

  "Ow." The look she gave me indicated that this would be a good time to deliver my apology. "Okay, I'm sorry. I was an ass. Sometimes I get carried away, and yes, I really overstepped the line last night. Will you forgive me?" She raised a very arched eyebrow at me, and that indicated I wasn't out of the woods yet.

  "Fine. I promise never to do anything like that again. Ever. It's just that you'd look so fucking sexy carrying my child. I can't wait to have you barefoot and pregnant round these parts, and you already know how much I want to be a dad."

  Jen pursed her lips and pointed at her mouth.

  "Oh, sorry," I said. "Permission to talk granted." This was a first; Jen actually obeying instructions.

  "Apology accepted. We can have a serious discussion about babies soon, but I'm not ready just yet, and you'll have to learn to be patient. Not everything happens exactly when you want it to, Mr Matthews." Although I knew that, it was still bloody annoying.

  "I won't mention it again unless you bring it up first. How's that?" I wondered, somewhat sheepishly, if I'd stick to my end of the bargain. It sounded good though.

  "It will do for now." Jen bit her lip, and that distracted me so much that I had to suck her face off for the next half hour or so.

  When Jen finally got a chance to come up for air she said, "This kitten get-up has really turned me on, darling. What are we going to do, now that we can't have sex? You're driving me crazy," she whined.

  "Who says we can't have sex?" I said, with a great big grin on my face.

  She hit me. "Let's not start this again. You promised not to..."

  "I'm not talking about that," I said, shaking my head. "Maybe we can't have sex in the usual way... but there's more than one way to skin a cat, darling. In fact, I've been getting that particular spot all nice and stretched, just ready to be taken.

  "Mr Matthews. You are an animal."

  "Actually you're the animal, but we're splitting hairs. Roll over on your stomach and grip the damn headboard." That was the last thing I said for quite some time.

  The phone stopped me from lounging around in bed all day. It rang once, and I ignored it until they hung up, but by the third time I knew I'd have to answer it or risk having someone come round and start banging down my door.

  "Give me five minutes to sort that out, and I'll be right back," I whispered to Jen, who looked absolutely shattered. I'd forgotten how many times I'd made her orgasm, but she'd probably had more than her fair share today.

  "Take as much time as you need," she mumbled, dragging a great big pillow over the back of her head. "I don't think I can take any more." My mouth opened in shock at her complete lack of enthusiasm. This was totally unacceptable behaviour.

  "We need to get that personal trainer back. Your stamina sucks, young lady." Pulling the bedcover back I gave her two sound swats on her already beautifully pink ass, and she yelped. "You get ten minutes rest, max. Make the best of that time, kittykat. Oh, and after I've finished what I'm shortly about to do to you, we're going out. Don't ask. I'll tell you later."

  I just managed to get out of the door before a pillow came crashing down against it. The woman was pushing her luck. If she wasn't careful I'd make her go out in her kittykat attire...

  "Hi Khalil, this is Mark."

  I already knew something was up because Khalil would never ring me more than once unless it was a national emergency. Sure enough, his next words were, "Kyle's on the move."

  Fuck. That made me suck in a breath. Here was the news I'd been waiting for, and now it was here it left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I wanted that bastard so bad I'd be hard-pressed not to rip his head from his neck when I saw him. I'd just have to hope I could contain myself, because that kind of death would be far too quick.

  In a lethal whisper I asked, "Where?" I needed to know how close he was. If he was too close I'd increase the security detail I had on Jen. No way was that monster getting to her a second time.

  "That's the strange thing. Technically he's in Canada, but my guys couldn't find anyone matching his description when the flight landed." Khalil did not sound happy, and neither was I for that matter.

  "Doesn't bode well, does it?" My jaw clamped in a hard line.

  "No. Watch your back. I have no idea wh
ere he is, but it would be wise to assume that he wants to get close to you."

  "Still no idea as to why?"

  "No, and that concerns me. Redcliff hasn't made a move either. No credit card pings, no bank transactions, no cell phone, no nothing." Khalil sounded frustrated, and that was rare. If there was any trace of him to be found Khalil would have it, so he was being very careful.

  "If Kyle's on the move, he won't be far behind him." I screwed my lip up in distaste. This certainly put a spanner in the works. I would need Jen glued to my hip for the foreseeable future, and there were only so many novel excuses I could come up with.

  "Any chance you could talk to Jen's mum? Maybe she'd be able to—"

  "No, that's not happening." I cut Khalil off in mid-flow. His suggestion was sensible enough, but Jen's mum and I had a strained relationship at best. Damned if I was going to be in her pocket. I'd have to be really desperate, and I wasn't there yet.

  "Think about it. She's your best bet. Not only does she know the man, but she has contacts we can only dream of."

  "Not happening." I had my pride. Besides, if I told Jen's mum you can be sure that the next person to know would be my wife, and she'd only panic. We'd keep this under wraps until a definite threat surfaced.

  "Understood. Right, well I'll keep you updated. That's all for now."

  Putting the phone down on the table with a soft click, some of my enthusiasm for the evening ahead dimmed. At least Jen would be by my side the entire time, though. Until I knew where that bastard Levison was hiding I wasn't letting my wife out of my sight. Not even for a second.

  When I got back to our room my kittykat was nowhere to be found, which immediately gave me cause for concern, but then logic kicked in. No one was in my house. We were safe here. Calm down and get a grip. Then I heard the roar of the shower and knew all was well.

  Poking my head around the bathroom door, making my wife jump in the process, I said, "Since when do kitty cats take showers?" I gave her my famous you're-in-trouble look, but she retaliated by pressing all of her most glorious assets up tight against the shower glass, and I just leched at her instead. I was such a lucky bastard; every single inch of the woman inside that shower cubicle was mine, all mine. And I was never going to let her go.

  "You told me we were going out. If we're going out I'm not a kittykat, and therefore I need a shower. No one will want to come near me if not." She rubbed her ass cheeks into the shower door, just to torment me. It was a spankable offence in my opinion.

  "We are going out, but I've decided you are going as a kittykat after all. I think it will make the ride down to the club a little more exciting than usual. As to your smell, you smell of sex and me, and I love that delightful combination. As I'm the only one allowed near you that's all you should worry about, and showering is overrated." I don't know why I bothered continuing to talk after the first sentence because Jen clearly wasn't listening.

  "What did you just say?" she asked me, abruptly turning off the tap.

  "You are going out as a kittykat," I said. World War III was shortly about to start, but boy was I ready for it.

  Jen opened the shower door, allowing a billow of steam to envelop the room, before slamming it shut behind her.

  "Is this something to do with Escape?" she asked, not looking at me as she pulled a giant cream bath towel from the rack and wrapped it snugly around her body.

  There was no point lying, so I sighed and said, "Yes."

  "You are really pushing your luck this weekend, Matthews," she said, now looking at me out of the corner of her eye, so I guess that was an improvement.

  "Obviously you don't have to come, but your end of the bargain will also be null and void if that happens." I winked at her, then turned and left her to chew on that one. Initially, the idea had been to take her along as my date, but now that the stakes had changed I didn't see why she couldn't be a part of the proceedings as well. If she said no, fine, we were both back to square one, and I could go to Escape on my own. It was a lot better than the alternative of being tied up, spanked, and possibly castrated by my wife.

  The bathroom door opened in a blast of hot air, as Jen's wet hair swirled around the corner in a fit of temper. "Who will you take as your plus one?" While her voice was soft I didn't miss the deadly venom held inside that question. Hmm. How should I play this? Probably not the way I was going to, but what the hell...

  "Sophia, of course," I said casually, before turning to walk down the stairs without a second glance. There was then a blissful moment of silence before all hell let loose. When an electric toothbrush crashed into the banister, a yard above my head, I had reason to be thankful my wife was such a crap shot.

  "Over my dead body!" she screamed at me, and I wisely started running.

  It was all sorted out over a cup of tea after I'd been brave enough to get out of hiding. When Jen got fired up it was always best to give her some space, and I did that by way of the man cave - otherwise known as my garage. You could change the entry code from the inside, which came in handy more often than I'd like to admit.

  After I'd given her an hour I made my way back inside, but not before I'd taken appropriate measures to protect myself should anything else come flying at me. Holding a golf umbrella in front of me, I immediately inflated it as soon as I got through the front door.

  "Truce," I yelled, waiting to see what would happen.

  "You are not going with Sophia," came a disgruntled voice from up the stairs. Thank God. The woman had calmed down.

  "Am I not? Who am I going with then?" Thankfully my wife's temper was usually short-lived. She normally seemed to explode and deflate reasonably quickly, but that wasn't always the case, so it was sensible to come prepared. I considered putting the umbrella down but decided I'd wait another minute just to be on the safe side.

  "You are going with me." There was a pause, and then I heard the soft pad of her feet upon the stairs. I couldn't see anything yet, because the umbrella completely obscured my vision.

  "For God's sake put that thing down. If I was going to throw anything at you I would have done it by now." The padding noises were coming closer, but as Jen didn't sound too annoyed I felt it was safe to put the brolly aside. When my eyes then trailed up the stairs my heart nearly stopped, for a vision of loveliness was heading towards me. I blinked stupidly for a moment, utterly enthralled, but somehow managed to get a hold of myself.

  "You look incredible," I said, and she did.

  "I found the extras you'd laid out on the bed. What do you think?" She smiled at me. Christ.

  Jen had once again donned her kittykat outfit but had styled her hair in tight little ringlets that were pinned behind her head with a big pink bow. She had swapped the booties for pink, knee-high socks, and the mittens were replaced with a pink mesh crop-top that nearly covered her breasts, complete with arms and thumb holes, although the shoulders were cut out. A little pink tutu tried to cover some of her butt, and her tail poked prettily out of the ensemble. The only thing she wasn't wearing was the gag, and it trailed from her fingertips, the chains jingling with her bell each time she moved.

  "I'm not sure I can take you anywhere looking like that," I said, and I meant it. I wanted to lock her up somewhere far, far away, and feast upon her until she screamed for mercy.

  "That's your problem, not mine. What will we be doing at Escape?"

  "Nuh-uh-uh," I said, waggling my finger. "It's supposed to be a surprise, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. Now come here, woman." I crooked my index finger in her direction, telling her that she needed to get her ass down the last few stairs quickly so I could get my hands all over her. Thankfully she didn't need to be told twice.

  "This get-up has me dripping wet," she admitted, as my fingers sought for evidence of the same.

  "So it does," I said, two fingers buried deep inside her. "How wonderful. Yet another thing I can torment you with, oh precious one." I gave her a wolfish smile as my fingers carefully tickled her clit.

/>   "What do you get to dress up in this evening?" she enquired, as her tongue lapped at the stubble upon my jaw. It made me instantly hard.

  "Black tie of course, what else?" I sighed. Hopefully my penguin suit had come home from the cleaners. I seemed to dust it off quite frequently these days.

  "That is so unfair," she moaned.

  "I'm not sure I'd look very good in pink," I said, trying my best to keep a straight face.

  "You look fucking awesome in black, though," she purred.

  "Give me that gag here, Mrs Matthews, and bend your ass over my leg. You are well aware that swearing is not tolerated around these parts." I gave her a dark stare to let her know I meant business.

  "I was hoping you'd say that," she giggled. That was the last thing she said for some time.

  Chapter Eight - Kyle

  "How are you going to get your hands on her?" It was a reasonable question, but it wasn't one I wanted to answer right now.

  "I don't want to get my hands on her just yet. First, I want to fuck with her." I'd been looking forward to this moment for a very long time, and now that it hovered in my imminent future, I was getting more than a little excited at the thought. The last time I'd had any real fun with Matthews was back in that abandoned old warehouse in London. That had been over a year ago. Since then I'd had a few mediocre interludes, but nothing that really whetted my appetite for destruction.

  "Well, when you want to track her I can hack her cell phone, you can get someone to plant a chip on her, or you can drop a chip on an item of clothing or secure it in an accessory; something like a handbag or purse. You'll want an item that she regularly uses for obvious reasons."