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“I guess that was about four, maybe five years ago.”
“Was it a nice ceremony?”
Monique had to look away again. “Yes.” Candles. Wine. A red dress. Etta had been there as their witness.She gave us her blessing. She was Jacqueline’s best friend – of course she had. “I was very happy.”
“Was?”
Neither of them commented on what that meant.
For the first time that night, Monique spoke completely out of turn. “Have you ever had a collaring ceremony?”
Helen’s eyes widened, yet she didn’t look at all surprised that Monique asked that. “Yes. Also a long time ago.”
“With that girl you scared away?”
A brief cloud of sadness overtook her countenance. “Yes.”
“What kind of collar was it?”
Helen reached down and traced a line around Monique’s throat.Touch me more.If only. “Black. Thin. She was a very understated woman. Liked leather, so I got her a leather collar with flecks of emeralds. She took it with her when she left. I don’t know what she did with it. What do subs do with their old collars?”
Well, if they were going to chat, Monique would take the pressure off her legs. She sprawled them to the side, her arms still bound but her toes wiggling in relief. “I can’t speak for all subs… but I know many leave them behind, or take them, or keep them. Sometimes they sell them if they’re valuable. It’shighly personal. What do women do with their wedding rings from old marriages?”
“I wouldn’t know about that either.” Helen indulged in the outline of the silver and diamond collar before tossing it onto the floor. “Doesn’t feel right to use that right now. Maybe sometime again in the future, Princess.” She smoothed down Monique’s curls and caressed her cheek. Monique leaned into her touch. “Are you happy with me?”
With her cheek still pressed against her Mistress’s palm, Monique looked up at her with as much reassurance as she could muster. “Very much so.”
“I’ve done my best to please you. As you know, it’s not just subs who want to serve and make another person happy.” Helen’s strokes lessened. “A good Domme takes her sub’s happiness into account above all else. I want you to trust me, Monique. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“You barely know me. You’ve had a rocky past. I don’t believe you trust me wholeheartedly quite yet. And that’s okay.” She kissed Monique’s forehead, “I will earn more of your trust. Sit up.”
Monique pushed herself back onto her legs, her heart beating furiously in her chest at the thought of what her Mistress might do to her.She’s already done so much tonight.Monique’s ass was still sore from the spankings she received on the restaurant table. And her thighs… the way Helen fucked her… Monique wasn’t sure she could take more that night, and yet hearing Helen speak made her crave her intimate touch once again.
Helen went to a drawer on the other side of the room. The woman had changed out of her dress upon arriving home, exchanging it for a flowy pajama set. This was the most casual Monique had ever seen her Mistress dressed. Her creased pajama pants were wrinkled in all the right places, and herlong-sleeved shirt clung to her body in a way that made Monique shudder in anticipation. Just her shirt tucked into her drawstring pants alone was enough to make Monique want her. If she could, Monique would have untied the knot in the drawstring using nothing but her tongue.
Helen pulled something long and gleaming from a drawer. “I need you to sit very still.”
When she turned, Monique involuntarily shot back on her legs.Is that a knife?
"Now, now. I’m not going to cut you.” Helen stood in front of Monique, the knife at her side. “I need you to trust me. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to take you to new places. No blood. No skin. Do you trust me?”
Monique nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good. Now, what did I tell you to do?”
“To sit still.”
“Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
The edge of the blade lightly touched the top of Monique’s shoulder. She sucked in her breath but did not move.She won’t hurt me. Thank God Jacqueline had never done knife play with her. She could only imagine what state of mind she would have been in right now.
The blade descended to the keyhole in her dress. Monique released her breath as the tip pierced the fabric.
“I really liked this dress on you,” Helen mused. “Remind me to get you another one.”
