Chapter 4
VALENTINA
My husband is the best man I know.
Other than the fact that he’s been cheating on me like clockwork for nearly a decade, that is.
With any other man, infidelity isn’t something I would tolerate.
But as I said, Sebastian is a good man. Unlike other husbands I know, he cooks and cleans regularly without being asked, he listens, he has no problem with me spending time with my friends away from him.
More than one of those friends has sighed dreamily over the way my husband treats me, half-jokingly saying he should teach husband lessons so their men can learn to be better partners.
I wonder if they’d change their minds if they knew about the women he spends time with every Monday. Or the perversions he’s tried so hard to keep under wraps our entire marriage.
I’m not unempathetic to his plight. The truth is, I have perversions of my own.
Desires I’ve kept under lock and key most of our marriage, because I know for a fact my kind, loving, sweetheart of a husband would never understand.
While he makes jokes about spanking me for my “misbehavior”, the things he wants to do to me are nothing compared to what I want. What I crave.
We are more alike than he realizes. And yet, still so very, very different.
For me, it’s not enough to enjoy a little slap and tickle with sex, the way I imagine he does with the nameless, faceless women he fucks regularly.
I want control, complete and utter dominance over the person who kneels at my feet.
I want to control what they eat, when they use the bathroom, when and how they are allowed to come.
I want to be… a Mommy.
And once a week, at the Velvet Collar, I get to live out those fantasies. For a long while, I kept my options open, playing with whichever Little girl or boy caught my fancy for the evening. But for the past few months, I’ve found myself drawn to the same Little girl over and over.
My sweet little June-bug. My princess.
When I step into the parlor room of the club where we met, June is already there, her head thrown back in laughter, her dark hair hanging loose down her back the way I like it.
There is a woman with her, sipping a glass of champagne as she watches my June-bug with far too much interest in her eyes.
The only dominants allowed in this club are women, and we far outnumber the submissives who attend, so it isn’t unusual for a newcomer to take such an interest in my Junie.
And yet, jealousy unfurls in my chest, an ugly, clawing beast that snarls a single word over and over.
Mine.
It isn’t fair. I can’t give June the relationship she deserves. Can’t be the Mommy I so desperately want to be for her. There is a part of me that longs to simply wrap her up and carry her out of this place. To bring her home with me and tell Sebastian he can either get used to it or get out.
But not only would that be wildly unfair to the man I love, I have no idea if June would even want to be my Little girl full-time. We have fun together, and she breaks for me so beautifully week after week. But the demands I would place on her if she lived with me twenty-four-seven…
It would take a very special Little girl to flourish under my rule.
And yet, even though I know she can’t be mine, not the way I so badly want, the thought of her spending time with another woman makes me see red.
Literally. I’m not so na?ve to believe that she abstains from playing with others when I’m not around.
But when I’m here, she is mine, and she’s about to be reminded very forcefully of that fact.
Schooling my expression into serene lines, I approach the small bar where my princess is still grinning up at the new Mommy seated beside her. “Hello, Juniper.”
She turns to me, and the way her blue eyes brighten at the sight of me soothes the beast in my chest a little.
But only a little.
“Mommy!” Squealing with happiness, my June-bug throws her arms around me and squeezes tightly. When she pulls back, her bottom lip is pushed out in an impressive pout. “You’re late. I thought you forgot about me.”
“Hmm.” Gripping her chin, I force her head back, delighted when her eyes widen with that hint of fear I love so much. “And here I thought it was you who’d forgotten about me.”
I deliberately slide my gaze over to the woman watching us with rabid curiosity.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize she was spoken for.”
“Well, she is. At least on Wednesdays. Isn’t that right, princess?”
“Yes, Mommy.” A blush creeps up my Little girl’s neck as she offers the interloper a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I should have told you.”
“It’s all right. I should have realized such a sweet Little thing like yourself would have already been snatched up.
” The woman rises from her stool and smiles, a smug sort of grin that has the beast in my chest snarling once more.
“I’ll be around later this week, though, if you aren’t spoken for on Fridays. ”
She isn’t. It’s part of our agreement that Wednesdays are our days, but outside of that, June is a free agent.
And yet, the urge to rip the other woman’s still-beating heart from her chest wells up inside me, so strong I have to breathe through the seething fury.
Unfortunately for my Little girl, the breathing exercises only do so much. Taking her by the hand, I tug her off the barstool and toward the room I’ve reserved for the evening.
I have every intention of making sure that by the time we leave tonight, my little princess remembers exactly who she belongs to.
Juniper
Mommy is mad.
And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me deliriously happy to see her acting so possessive of me.
Just like with my Daddy at club Restraint, I know Mommy’s ownership of me has limits, but it still makes me all gooey inside to know she takes that ownership so seriously, regardless of how limited it might be.
I do feel a tiny bit guilty for provoking her the way I did.
I learned early on that Mommy does not share and that she gets very, very jealous if I so much as look at another woman on “her” nights.
But after learning my Daddy most certainly has someone he goes home to every night, someone who isn’t me, I desperately needed to feel like I belong to someone.
I have a feeling I’m about to get what I wanted… and that I’m probably going to regret every second of it.
Pushing open the door of “our” room, the one we have a standing reservation for every Wednesday night, Mommy ushers me inside.
“Are you wearing panties, little girl?”
“Yes, Mommy.” Unlike Daddy, my Mommy loves it when I wear panties. What she really wants is for me to wear a diaper, but since I refuse to regress that Little, she settles for solid white cotton panties that cover my whole bottom.
“Good girl. Go put your nose in that corner with your dress up so Mommy can see those cute panties.”
Ugh, cornertime. I hate cornertime, and she knows it. Dragging my feet, I make my way over to an empty corner and position myself as instructed, holding up the layers of tulle and silk of the dress she bought me as a Christmas gift.
Behind me, I can hear her moving around, and my heart trips in my chest as I try to imagine what she has in store for me.
Finally, after what feels like hours in the corner, she calls for me. I turn, and I swear that same heart stops beating entirely at the sight that greets me.
My Mommy is a stunning woman even at her worst. But dressed in nothing but a few scraps of purple lace holding up her generous breasts and covering her pussy, with little straps attached to the sheer black stockings that stop at mid-thigh, she is absolutely breathtaking.
Tapping the crop she holds against the palm of her hand, she smirks. “Come here, Juniper.”
Breathless, I approach, making sure to hold up my dress until she gives me permission to let it go again. Mommy places the tip of the crop beneath my chin, nudging my head up so I’m forced to look her in the eye.
“Who do you belong to right now, Juniper Skye?”
“Y-you, Mommy.”
“And who do you belong to every Wednesday night, without exception?”
“You, Mommy,” I whisper, my voice tight with a mixture of desire and fear.
“That’s right. And do you think it made Mommy happy to see you flirting with someone else right under my nose?”
“No, Mommy. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you are certainly about to be, my naughty Little girl. Dress and panties off.”
Moving quickly, I strip the dress off, taking care to hang it up in the small closet provided for just this reason.
I make sure to fold my panties as well, unwilling to risk provoking Mommy any further.
She hates mess, and not putting my clothes away neatly is a sure-fire way to get my bottom spanked.
And since I’m still not sure exactly how much trouble I’m in, I don’t want to push my luck.
“Good girl,” she praises in that low purr of a voice that always shoots straight to my clit. “How do you feel about horses, June-bug?”
“Horses?” Confusion has my brows drawing together as I consider her question. “Um, they’re cool, I guess. I always wanted to try riding one when I was younger but we couldn’t afford it.”
A wicked smile stretches across my Mommy’s face as she gestures to her right, drawing my attention to a large rocking horse with two large dildos sticking straight up from the saddle.
“Good news, my little June-bug. Tonight, you learn how to ride.”