"Put your hands above your head, roll over on your stomach, and I'll show you," I murmured in his ear.
"Fine." He did as I instructed and I watched him slowly relax into the bed. The bastard knew what I was about to do once again and was preparing himself in advance. Was this how he managed to amass his fortune? Always being one step ahead of the opposition? It wouldn't surprise me.
Kneading his magnificent ass for a minute or two, I then moved on to the paddle. There was no point trying to spank him with my hand. It would hurt me more than it would hurt him, of that I was almost certain. At least he'd feel it if I used the paddle. The one in my hand was made of bamboo, with holes cut into its surface to help decrease air resistance. The end result meant it was light and easy to swing but still packed a very solid punch. I would also be able to wield it for some considerable time, and I did. Mark didn't say a word. His backside was blisteringly red by the time I'd finished, but I didn't hear a single noise, moan or whimper. What was his secret? I'd be in hysterics by now.
"Do you want the flogger or the crop next, darling? Or perhaps you want to beg for mercy?" I leaned over his body to whisper all that in his ear, and a throaty aroused sound came out. Even though I had orgasmed three times in the last hour, I was already craving more of the same, but it would have to wait. There was no way my husband was sitting down tomorrow, and I intended to make sure of that.
"Both, and put a bit of effort into it, darling. This may be the only chance you get to dominate me, so try and make it memorable, sweetheart." He sounded bored and completely unaffected by my recent paddling as if I'd barely scraped the surface of what he could take. Compressing my lips together and curling my fingers into fists, I resisted the urge to fling the paddle at his head. Fine. If he wanted to play tough guy, I could work with that.
The gloves came off as I used the flogger, and I flung that thing down as if I were trying to tame a wild beast. My arm was by this time killing me, but I was damned if I'd stop until I gave it my best shot. When my tendons were screaming for a rest I ran the tendrils up and down his sensitised flesh and wiped a few beads of sweat away from my forehead.
"It's not as easy as it looks, is it?" I could tell Mark was amused by the tone of his voice, but I refused to let him get to me. He was trying to rile me, and it wasn't going to work. Besides, I would have the last laugh. There was no way he was getting an orgasm this evening.
"Ready for the crop, darling?" Purring sweetly in his ear, I ran a single fingernail sharply down his left buttock. I heard him suck in a breath, but nothing more. Still, it was a start.
"Absolutely," he confirmed enthusiastically. "And I'll bet you one hundred pounds your whipping arm hasn't got more than ten minutes left in it." Wanting to scream, mostly because my husband was a smug, sanctimonious bastard, I decided that it was probably better to save my breath. Besides, I could still get even.
"That's actually excellent news, sweetheart, because as soon as I'm finished with the crop I'm locking your cock in a teeny weeny little cage, and taking your ass. There is no way you're getting an orgasm this evening, and by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be so revved up that sleep will be an impossible dream. Now open wide for me, darling, because I've had just about enough of your attitude this evening."
Pressing the black ball gag firmly to his lips, I waited for him to open before I yanked the straps tightly behind his head and buckled it up.
Now I was really going to have some fun.
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Mark
My wife did a real number on me yesterday evening and then left me tied hand and foot to the bed all night. Blue balls didn't even begin to describe the agony of her sexy little body writhing all over me with no sign of relief in sight, and she knew it. She'd have to untie me eventually though, and when she did I was going to even up our scoresheet. So far this morning she'd been conveniently absent, but I could hear her bustling about downstairs, so I knew she was just putting off the inevitable. The longer she made me wait, the worse it would be for her. She should know that by now.
Hearing the phone ring, and unable to answer it, I heard the dial tone disappear as Jen picked up. Then the sound of her feet on the stairs, and she walked into the bedroom in her robe with a mug of coffee in her hand. If she thought that would appease me, she was much mistaken.
"Hang on Rupert, I'll just go and get him for you." She laid the phone and mug of coffee down while she went to work untying my right hand. Hurrah. Vengeance would shortly be mine, and I could almost smell its tantalising fragrance on the air. When I had the use of my hand back I picked up the phone and scowled at her. She immediately dashed from the room. Smart woman.
Rupert talked pleasantries for a few minutes until the conversation moved back to Kyle. "Have you decided what you're going to do to him yet?" I asked. Putting the phone on speaker, I made short work of untying my other wrist and then got to work on my ankles. The rope marks were going to be with me for a few days, but they would be a fantastic reminder of the fact that my wife needed to pay for every single thing she'd done to me last night, and then some.
"Ah, about that. There's a special wing at Albrecht where we do 'experimental things'. I was wondering if you'd be interested in something like that?" Rupert sounded very chipper, and if my ears weren't deceiving me, someone was snoring in the background. A female. I wondered if he'd got back together with Laurel or if it was a new squeeze. Interesting.
Quickly donning a pair of jeans and a black shirt, I began walking down the stairs. "Define 'experimental'," I replied. I wanted all the details of what would happen to that miserable bastard, and he was lucky I didn't want him dead because if I did, I'm sure Rupert and Laurel would have taken care of it for me. The only reason I decided against it was because death was too quick. I wanted Kyle and Redcliff to suffer for what they'd done, not just to me, but to Jennifer; and for most of her life.
"Gender reassignment. They'll get boobs, lose other important parts of their anatomy, and be given a horrible cocktail of hormones. That sort of 'experimental'. What do you think? Laurel's all for it. She says she could do with a new housemaid."
Holy hell. As far as punishments went, not even I could have come up with that. It was truly monstrous and probably perfect for them both.
"They'll be assigned a master or mistress at the end of the surgery, and I have a feeling Laurel will probably want to play with them for a bit, so I can pretty much guarantee you they'll suffer in all the ways that matter."
Pushing the door to my office wide, I could barely sit down on what used to be a very comfortable leather chair, but I gritted my teeth and took the plunge. There was no way I was letting Jennifer know she'd put me through the wringer last night, and she was bound to come in with another cup of coffee at any moment.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
"Or we could put them in a cell if you prefer. It's your call."
There was silence down the end of the phoneline for a minute. I didn't know if I could do that to a person. It was too horrific, even for me.
"Laurel says if you can't decide, she's happy to make the decision for you. She is pretty cross at the moment." A grunt could be heard somewhere in the background, so I had my answer about who Rupert was sleeping with. He was a brave son of a bitch, I'd give him that.
Letting out a long slow breath, I pursed my lips together and sighed. "I'll leave it in Laurel's hands. Tell her she can do what she wants with them."
Rupert laughed. "She thought you'd say that. You've just made her really happy." Yeah, and she was going to call me a pussy as soon as I put the phone down, but what the hell.
"Remind me never to annoy Laurel, okay?"
I could almost see Rupert's face creasing up as he said, "Hell no. That's the fun part. You'll understand all about that in a few years." Ha. That's what you think, I thought.
We then said our various goodbyes and I decided I'd lay the past to rest. This was the end of a chapter for Jennifer and me, and one we were glad
to say goodbye to. We would shortly be embarking on another, and it would probably be no less challenging, but hopefully far more rewarding in every way. I couldn't wait. We were going to have sex constantly until she was pregnant, and if you think I'm joking, you'd be wrong.
But before I started getting even with my wife, I had a small present to give her. It was currently resting in my top bedside drawer, and it was a navy velvet box, the inside of which held a soft velvet collar in the same colour. On the front of the collar rested an emerald cut, one-carat diamond, to celebrate our first year of marriage. On the rear of the collar was a little disc that had both of our initials engraved on it. I intended to make her wear the thing all the time, to help her remember who was boss around these parts.
As if she'd read my thoughts, she chose that moment to saunter in a cream babydoll dress that was pretty much see-through all over. Thrusting a cup of coffee in my face I nearly dropped it, far too intent on other things that were also thrusting out towards me.
"Fuck," I whispered throatily. To add to my woes I promptly spilled hot coffee all over myself.
"The word is thank you, and you're welcome," she said sweetly. "By the way, how's your ass this morning?" She gave me a mock frown and pretended to be extremely concerned for my welfare.
"Not as sore as yours is going to be this evening," I replied, with a knowing smile.
Thanks for reading!
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If you'd like to find out how Mark and Jenny met, the first book is called The Riding School, and is book one of a six-book series called Pony Tales.
Please Help a Starving Author by Leaving a Review
Ok, so I lied about the starving part, but books need reviews in order to sell. Without them they wither and die, and so do the authors. Honest.
You don't have to say much, but here are a few examples of what you could write if you were a truly wonderful person who didn't mind doing a good deed every now and again:
This book was so awesome I forgot to feed my kids. Thankfully they reminded me, over and over again, so I haven't managed to kill them yet. Phew.
This book sucked. It was even worse than a certain president's infamous hairdo, and that is saying something.
Mark and Jennifer are so hot I want a threesome with both of them. As long as I'm allowed a safe word - because Mark is a little bit on the seriously freaky crazy side.
I would rather read War and Peace than this ridiculous smutty drivel and nonsense. Seriously, all Mandara talks about is orgasms, sex, and hot blokes. Who wants to read about that?
Ms Mandara does not write quickly enough. I need her to release a book every month at the very least, and she keeps me waiting for months - and worse - ends everything on a horrendous cliff-hanger. I have a love/hate relationship with this author. She should probably be spanked.
This is not a good book to read on the train. Especially when the hot guy sitting next to me kept trying to read it over my shoulder.
Don't ever read this book to your wife. She will demand sex for days on end and will suddenly become insatiable in bed. Seriously, I have been considering divorce...
Any of these will do (I'm more partial to the nice ones...) and it will give you extra karma points that will be returned to you in due course in the form of cookies, money, hugs, and wine. Honest.
Thank You!
I just need to say a big thank you to all my wonderful beta readers who always step up to the rather tricky task of reading my books before they've had a good edit. Without you, my books would probably be unreadable as you manage to figure out that my heroine can't see things when she's wearing a blindfold, and that it's tough for her to talk if she's gagged. You also help me to correct my numerous errors and give me your honest opinions, which are more valuable than pixie dust. (The stuff that makes you fly without wings). (That is what pixie dust does, right?)
So, for everyone who's helped me along the way, thank you, thank you, thank you! I am particularly indebted to Debenpac from Texas who told me Tesla cars do not 'roar' they 'whine' - must be something to do with the fact they're electric, right? And for those of you who are curious - that actual car won't be on the market until 2020 - so how was I to know? He also provided me with the spectacular punishment for both Kyle and Michael at the end. I usually don't like to name names, given the dark nature of my books, so I am sending virtual hugs to everyone instead. They are valid for the next twenty-four hours only, though. So grab 'em quick ;)
For those of you who are wondering if there will be any more Mark and Jen, I haven't decided yet. I've toyed with the idea of telling Leyland and Marianna's story, too. Next up, I'll be writing the third book in my latest special agent BDSM series, Flames, so watch this space.
Love 'n hugs to all xxx
Bio
Christina Mandara was born in the UK but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney, and her favourite holiday destination is the south of France.
She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling, and water sports. Think surfing or sailing. She's a big fan of BDSM in all its glorious forms, and her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn't big enough) is her riding crop.
In her spare time, she's usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside, or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she's one of few women who wouldn't mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you'll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica, or dark paranormal fantasies.
Christina's Social Media Hangouts:
C.P. Mandara's Facebook Street Team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1021736604577782
FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/CPMandara
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cpmandara
Website: http://christinamandara.com
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7113521.C_P_Mandara
The Velvet Collar Page 29