Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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“Hurray up; otherwise, we’re going to be late; the taxi is nearly here!” Scarlett exclaimed as she grabbed her red handbag from the kitchen counter.

"Oh, I’m sorry, but it wasn’t me who decided to pin me down on the bed and smack my ass for nearly twenty minutes,” Ethan replied as he exited the bedroom, gently rubbing his hand over his jeans to try and relieve the soreness she’d inflicted.

“You didn’t have the cage on when I got out of the bath,” she replied, quickly checking herself in the hall mirror, “I told you there’d be consequences.”

Her dark hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, along with sharp black eyeliner and deep red lips. A plain red t-shirt was pulled tightly over her torso, tucked into a high-waisted black skirt that stopped just above her knees. Her chunky black leather boots and a white leather jacket completed her outfit.

She had been especially devious earlier, making sure to change in front of him so that he was aware she would be going commando tonight.

"It is not something I normally wear on a day-to-day basis; I just forgot!” He lightly protested as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her softly on the side of her neck.

It was a simple combination of dark blue jeans, a black button-up shirt, and black leather shoes for him tonight; the sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows as he preferred. His medium-length hair was swept back, and his beard was just freshly trimmed to a nice, short length. There was also the black leather BDSM collar still attached around his neck that really made his outfit pop.

“Oh shit I’d better take this off,” he laughed as he went to unbuckle the latch. “I really don’t want to explain this to those two."

“Now hold on,” she said as she turned to face him. “I don’t think I said you could take it off."

"Listen, I love you, but I’m not wearing the collar to dinner,” he replied as he felt her hand slowly pushing on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that sadistic,” she smiled as she gently brushed him back against the wall, her hand reaching behind his neck to unbuckle the collar as she pushed her body as close up to him as she could. “I have an idea anyway."

He felt the leather slip away from his neck, his hand rubbing against the now exposed skin. The collar had barely been on for twelve hours, but he had already missed it somewhat.

She took his right arm and pulled it towards her so that it was straight. Taking the open collar, she placed it on his wrist like a watch strap and buckled it to the tightest possible setting so that it fit snugly. She tucked the tail into the o-ring that was on the underside of his wrist and then pushed it into the space between his wrist and the strap.

“See, now you can be collared all the time,” she grinned as she interlocked her fingers into his and pushed his arm upwards towards the wall above his head, pressing her body closer to his to keep him pinned.

Using her right leg, she used it to push his legs apart before sliding her free hand down his waistband and into his boxers, grasping and squeezing his imprisoned genitals.

“Just thinking about all the ways I'm going to control you from now on is making me so fucking wet right now,” she whispered softly into his ear, “I’ll have you begging to do anything I want, and you’ll love every moment of it.”

She leaned up and kissed him vigorously, her hand squeezing just a little tighter on his balls before releasing them as she pulled away, releasing his grip on his arm, and headed towards the front door.

“But I think that’s the taxi I hear beeping downstairs, so come on,” she grinned devilishly. She’d felt his flustered body almost crumple at her touch, and she was loving it—the way he just turned into putty in her hands that she could mould into whatever shape she wanted.

“That was fucking wicked,” he said. He could feel his face burning red as he adjusted his jeans; his cage was trying its best to burst through the crotch.

“And you loved it,” she smiled as she opened the front door. “Now come on, little sub; otherwise we’ll be late, and you don’t want to keep me waiting.”

He grinned as he quickly walked behind her, grabbing his jacket from the hook on the wall before closing the door behind him and locking it.

The small restaurant was nestled on the corner of the busy city street, a small outdoor section outside under the main window, complete with a candle sat atop an old empty wine bottle. The street lights perched along the edge of the pavement, illuminating the street in a soft yellow glow.

This has been their regular haunt since their first date, and they still enjoyed the warm atmosphere and friendly staff. This was a place they always enjoyed experiencing with their friends, but as they looked around, there was no sign of Sophia or Michael; it seemed quieter than usual, save for the faint music that bled from the entrance to the restaurant.

Scarlett checked her phone; there were no missed calls or unread messages, so she reached into her bag and pulled out the small cardboard carton.

“Smoke?” she asked as she offered the open carton to him. “We should have time for them to arrive.”

"Yeah, sure,” he replied, rubbing his hands together for warmth before taking a cigarette from the packet.

She flicked the neon lighter, a small flame roaring to life. She held the fire to the end of the cigarette, letting it burn for a few seconds before taking a deep draw of nicotine. As she outstretched her arm towards him, she caught sight of a peculiar sight.

“Look at this,” she said, inhaling another draw as she pointed at the old brick wall.

Years of posters plastered the brickwork, ranging from old music tours long past, local advertisements, and campaign posters for all range of political parties, but there was one that immediately stood out to the pair of them.

It was small, probably no bigger than a postcard, and made of bright red material, but on the left-hand side was the unmistakable silhouette of a man on all fours while a woman was standing behind him, a thigh-high boot resting on his back while a whip was loosely held in one of the hands. To the left of the silhouette was bold, block writing that read:

THE VEIL PRESENTS GYNARCHY

A NIGHT CELEBRATING FEMALE DOMINATION

NEWCOMERS WELCOME (COUPLES ONLY)

FETISH ATTIRE ONLY (CHANGING ROOMS AVAILABLE ON-SITE)

SATURDAY 13TH OCTOBER

21:00 TIL LATE

TICKETED EVENT (NO WALK-UPS)

PLEASE CONTACT MISTRESS JADA / GODDESS SOPHIA FOR TICKETS VIA PROVIDED EMAIL

“That’s crazy; I never knew there was anything like that around here,” he said, taking a long inhale of the cigarette as he leaned against the wall.

“Want to go?” She asked as she took out her photo and snapped a quick picture of the poster, “It could be fun.”

"Wait, are you serious?” He replied, making sure that he’d understood her correctly. “You want to go to a BDSM club?”

“Sure, why not?” She replied, taking a long inhale of nicotine, “You never wanted to go to one?”

“I mean, I’d googled them before, but I never had the nerve to go beyond that,” he explained as he took another draw. “I always had the worry that I’d meet someone I know, and that is just something I don’t want to even think about.”

“And what about now, I’d be there with you,” she replied. “I mean, I could just always order you to accompany me."

"Well, I suppose you could,” he coughed, exhaling deeply. “If you want to, then I’ll go, but there’s one issue: the poster says it’s fetish attire only."

"Oh, that’s not an issue,” she smirked as she dropped the cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with her boot. “I have some ideas about how exactly I want you to be dressed.”

"Oh, really?” he asked as he took one last draw, “and what if I say no?”

“I’ll just need to find another, more obedient submissive who does as they’re told, won’t I?” She teased as she linked her arm with his. “You wouldn’t want that now, would you?

"Alright, you win; you can dress me however you like,” he conceded as they walked towards the restaurant entrance, “and seeing you in any fetish clothing would be mind-blowing."

“I might just start building a nice little collection to lounge around the house in,” she smiled as she pushed open the restaurant door, “all kinds of outfits to have you worship me in.”

“Promises,” he laughed as they stepped into the warm restaurant and stood at the small stand where the maître d' was waiting.

“We have a reservation for four at 8pm,” she advised as the maître d’ scanned through the paper list.

"Ah, of course, this way, please,” the man replied, a hint of a continental accent in his voice as he grabbed two menus and started to show them to the table. “The rest of your party is already here.”

As they turned the corner, Sophia and Michael were already waiting, browsing through their menus and taking small sips of their drinks. Once they noticed Ethan and Scarlett, they stood up to greet them, with Sophia giving Scarlett an embracing hug.

Sophia had been one of her best friends since meeting her at university. Despite being complete polar opposites of each other, it was just a quirk of their relationship that made them even closer.

“You look gorgeous,” Scarlett told her as she let go of the embrace. “How are you feeling after last night?”

Sophia smiled; her long blonde hair flowed down to her shoulder blades, while dark eyes and light pink lipstick complimented her soft face. A yellow sundress sat on her shoulders, all the way down to just below her knees, and a pair of soft tan sandals adorned her feet.

“Thanks; you look stunning yourself.” Sophia smiled, her voice a little hoarse. “And yeah, I’m feeling better, though I’m never drinking again."

“There is literally a cocktail on the table,“ Scarlett laughed as she sat down and opened the menu.

“I mean, drinking like that, one will be fine,” Sophia replied as she returned to her seat. “So you do much when you get home?”

"Oh, just this and that,” Scarlett smiled as she thought back to the morning, “Ethan made sure to take good care of me.”

"Aww, that’s sweet, and I love what you did with the chain I gave you. Though, what’s with the key?” Sophia asked inquisitively.

"Oh, it was just a present from Ethan,” Scarlett answered, her fingers idly playing with the key. “You could say it’s the key to his heart."

Ethan awkwardly extended his right arm out to shake Mark’s and immediately realised he should have shaken with his left, the o-ring on the collar jingling slightly as they shook. He watched Mark’s confused reaction as he sat down and immediately felt that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t know Mark quite as well as he probably should have; he had been Sophia’s husband for the past couple of years, and while they were friendly, they weren’t exactly friends.

“Nice...wristband?” Mark said he’d clearly noticed the leather band around Ethan’s wrist and just looked at it weirdly. “Why does it have that metal ring on it?”

“Oh, it was a present from Scarlett,” Ethan replied, trying to think on the spot to divert attention from it.

“It comes with a leash as well?” Mark laughed as he took a swig from the pint glass.

Ethan just laughed uncomfortably and dodged the question, burying his head into the menu and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

That sinking feeling was getting stronger, and his mind was starting to invite old, insidious thoughts back in. The soft leather around his wrist, the steel cage encasing his penis—these things were all exciting and fun not even ten minutes ago, but now they were becoming uncomfortable reminders of everything he’d kept hidden.

“So where’d you get the key from?” Sophia asked him, her attention now on him, “Scarlett was saying it’s the ‘key to your heart'."

“I can’t remember; I just found it,” he replied nonchalantly. "It's really nothing."

"Well, I think it’s sweet, and I like the wristband that she said she got for you as well.” She smiled innocently as she beckoned over to the waiter to take their orders.

“I asked him if you had a leash for it,” Mark asked Scarlett, pointing at the leather band. “What’s with the big-ass ring on it?”

He didn’t hear the reply; his mind was flooding with poison, and each negative idea that entered his head was evolving into painful conclusions that he could envision happening sooner rather than later. He moved his hands off the table and into his lap, staring at the leather band that was coiled around his wrist.

He needed it off; he wanted to just hide away once again.

He made sure that, as soon as Scarlett wasn’t looking, he quietly unbuckled the collar and slipped it into his pocket before rolling down his sleeves to cover his exposed lower arms. If he could have taken off the cage, he’d have run to the bathroom and done so, but all he could do was sit there and endure it, every movement reminding him of just how fucking bizarre he felt he was.

Dinner couldn’t have finished quicker; he’d barely focused on the meal, or conversation, and anytime they tried to involve him, it just descended into an awkward silence. After an uneasy hour, the four of them stood on the pavement outside the restaurant, waiting on their respective taxis.

“So anything planned for later?” Sophia asked as she handed the lit cigarette over to Scarlett, “Staying in or going out?”

“Just going to head home, I think,” Scarlett replied as she inhaled the smoke deeply. “I think I need to speak with Ethan anyway."

"Yeah, I don’t like to ask, but is he OK?” Sophia said as she took the cigarette back, “He didn’t seem himself at all during dinner.”

“I dunno, he was fine when he arrived,” Scarlett advised as she checked the app on her phone. “Anyways, our taxi is here, so I’ll message you later."

Scarlett gave them both a quick hug as Ethan hurried into the taxi, only giving a faint goodbye before closing the door behind him.

The ride back was eerily quiet; the jovial atmosphere they’d had on the way there had been replaced with an uneasy tension. She looked over to him, a vacant expression on his face as he stared out of the window, and wondered just what exactly had happened.

“You OK?” She asked him, placing her hand on his knee and rubbing softly, “You were really quiet throughout dinner.” “I’m fine,” he replied sharply, jerking his leg away.

Everything was not fine; the dinner had taken a sinister turn in his mind, and he was now convinced that she was only doing this to appease him. That everything they had talked about was just her trying to put on a brave face because she’d finally discovered what a deviant her husband was. This was beyond self-loathing; he felt like he’d just ruined his marriage, and she was just trying to save face until eventually she would get sick and tired of him and leave.

As the taxi roared away from the apartment building, an uncomfortable silence remained between them. Walking up the steps to their flat, the sound of each step ricocheted off the concrete walls loudly until finally they were at their front door. She reached into her pocket and fished out the keys, sliding the key into the lock and twisting it open. As they stepped inside, she knew it was time to finally get to the bottom of this.

“Ethan, please just talk to me,” she asked, reaching out to place her hand on his back, but he moved away before she was able to, “You’ve barely spoken all night.”

“I’m tired,” he grumbled back as he walked over to the couch and slouched into his spot, rubbing his face with his hands as he turned the TV on, “I’m going to bed in a minute.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me properly?” she responded as she placed her jacket on the coat hook. “Clearly something is bothering you, and I have no idea what it is.”

“Just leave it, please,” he replied as he stood up and headed towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt and flinging it into the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the room.

“No, I won’t just leave it,” she answered back, following him into the bedroom before noticing his bare right arm. “What happened to your collar?”

“Just fucking stop!” He snapped, angrily kicking his shoes off, “Just stop it.”

“Whoa, what the fuck was that for?!” She replied sharply, “I’m not a fucking mind reader, so just tell me what’s wrong!”

“You can stop pretending that everything is fine!” He said, trying to keep his emotions in check, “I know that this isn’t normal, and I’m sorry that I’m such a fucking embarrassment to you.”

“Why would you think that?” She replied, slowly approaching him, “I don’t think you’re an embarrassment.”

“Of course you do; who the fuck finds their husband like you did and is just OK with it?!” he said, his hand furiously brushing through his hair as he felt the emotional dam inside start to buckle. “Just be honest, you think I’m a fucking freak.

The dam burst; years of self-loathing, shame, and fear flooded out, his eyes streaming and his legs becoming unsteady. He leaned back against the wall and just slumped to the floor, his hands covering his face as he tried to catch his breath.

“I fucking hate myself,” he whimpered, bringing his knees up to his chest. “I just wish I was normal.”

He just wanted the world to stop and swallow him whole; he felt like he was drowning, and there was no lifeboat in sight.

Until finally, he felt himself being pulled out of the dark waters.

“Listen to me,” she said gently, kneeling down so her forehead pressed against his while placing her left hand tenderly on the back of his head. ‘You are the most important person in the world to me, and I love you with all my heart.”

“You’re everything to me; I love you more than anything,” he quietly replied, keeping his eyes closed as the tears continued to roll down his cheeks. “I’m just terrified that I’ve fucked everything up."

“You haven’t fucked anything up,” she said tenderly, kissing his forehead softly as her hand calmly rubbed the back of his head, “I think that this can only bring us closer today and make us stronger.”

“Really? How?” he asked, wiping the tears from his bloodshot eyes.

“I want you to be your true self with me; I don’t want you to feel like you’re too scared or ashamed to be you,” she reassured him as her hand moved to his cheek, stroking it softly, “And I want to be my true self with you as well."

“I’m sorry I shouted,” he replied as he opened his eyes to be greeted with her piercing green ones. “I just spiralled; I let my worst insecurities take over, but that’s no excuse; I’m really sorry.”

“What happened at the dinner?” she asked him calmly, continuing to stroke his bearded cheek.

“It was a stupid comment about the collar,” he explained. “It just made me think that this isn’t normal, and I just went from there. I started to feel ashamed about myself, and then I thought about what you must think of me, and I spiralled to the worst outcome.”

“Listen, I was shocked when I found you, but it didn’t make me change how I feel about you,” she replied. “I just wish you’d felt comfortable enough to tell me when we first met; I was a little panicked that you didn’t trust me with it.”

“I know, I’m sor-“ he started to say, but she raised a finger to his lips to stop him.

“Stop saying sorry,” she advised him as her hand moved under his chin to lift it up so she could fully see him. “All that matters is that I love you, kinks and all, and I want us both to explore this together, to be fully open with each other, and to help it strengthen our marriage.”

She slowly rose to her feet, towering over him before extending both arms to him. He reached out and grasped them, her slender fingers curling around his as she helped to lift him up from the floor. She embraced him tightly, her arms wrapping around his torso as they lingered in the moment, their bodies entwined.

“I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks about us,” she told him as she relaxed her embrace and leaned up to kiss him warmly on the lips. “All that matters is that we are in this together, and that’s all we need.”

“I love you so fucking much,” he replied, a smile reappearing on his face, “and I’m glad you want to explore this with me.”

“Then give me your collar,” she commanded sweetly, her hand slowly moving down his chest.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bundle of leather. He handed it over to her as requested and watched silently as she slipped the ends back around his neck and buckled it back in place. She reached down to his hand and gripped it tightly, leading him over to their bed.

She gently pushed him down onto the soft duvet before straddling him, kissing his exposed torso as her fingers grazed over his hard nipples. She moved upwards, pressing her body harder against his as she passionately kissed him on the lips.

Her left hand started to run through his hair until she had enough of it to firmly grip, while her right looped through the o-ring, allowing her to pull it gently, bringing him closer as their tongues interlocked in passion before she pulled away.

“You are my husband, my submissive,” she told him, her eyes locked on his. “You will always be mine, and I will treasure you for eternity.”

Her words felt like a cleansing tide washing over him, that darkness disappearing as she stared back at her. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and held her close, enjoying the moment.

“I want you to love me, worship me, and devote every part of yourself to me,” she whispered seductively into his ear before sitting back up.

She rose to her feet on the unsteady surface and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall down onto him and exposing her nude lower half. She carefully stepped forward and then kneeled back down, her glistening pussy just inches from his face. “Worship me,” she said as she lowered herself down onto his face.

Her scent was intoxicating, and his nose pressed against her soft skin as he started to move his tongue slowly between her warm inner lips. His arms curled around her thighs as he lapped up her wetness, his tongue sliding back and forth between her clit and the opening.

He felt her pushing down more, her fingers entangled in his hair as his grip on her thighs got stronger, bringing her in closer to him as his tongue moved quicker.

“Keep it there,” she said, her breathing a little faster and her hand gripping his hair tighter as his tongue circled over her sweet spot.

She was starting to grind back and forth along his tongue, her hips moving quicker as he stiffened his tongue. He could feel her wetness covering his jaw, marking him as hers. He could feel her throbbing clitoris running over the tip of his tongue in a circular motion as her hips got faster and he started to gently suck on it.

"Oh, fuck, don’t stop!” She moaned loudly, her other hand now pulling her t-shirt up over her large breasts so she could play with her stiff nipples, pinching them gently as her other hand maintained its grasp of his hair.

He started to alternate his pattern, swapping between gently sucking on her clit to encircling it with his stiffened tongue, making sure to keep some form of contact with it. Her leaking aroma was becoming more intoxicating as well; it was driving him crazy with arousal.

He could feel his cock straining against the metal cage, but it was different this time; he was incredibly turned on, but it was all directed at her. Every moan, every thrust, and every pull of his hair made him fall deeper under her spell; his pleasure wasn’t a concern to him anymore; it was all about making sure hers was being fully devoted to.

Any urges he had were nothing compared to his desire to worship at her altar.

Her thighs were starting to twitch inward as he kept alternating between licking and sucking, and her nectar was smeared across his face as she bucked faster. She was pushing her hips forward and back quicker, softly moaning as each movement of his tongue over her clit kept that orgasmic wave building higher and higher.

He knew she was getting close, and he kept the rhythm of his pattern steady, his tiring tongue rolling across her clit and her wetness almost becoming a torrent until, finally, the wave crashed against the rocks.

Scarlett's scream of ecstasy echoed around the room, her body trembling with orgasmic pleasure as he slowed down the strokes of his tongue over her soaked and sensitive pussy. Her hand clamped around his hair as she tried to catch her breath. The sheer intensity of her orgasm had caught her by surprise.

“Jesus Christ, that was fucking amazing,” she exclaimed as she slowly pulled herself off his face and lay down next to him, propping her head up on his outstretched arm. “You’re definitely worshipping me every day."

He relaxed as she cuddled into him and thought about how the past two days had been a blur of exceptional highs and devastating lows. She had been the one constant source of light, she’d never judged him or given up on him.

He felt her body slowly become limp as tiredness overwhelmed her, and within minutes, she was fast asleep. He softly stroked her head before rolling onto his side and draping his arm over her, embracing her sleeping body as he closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep as well.

As he lay there, holding her in his arms, he thought about all those insecurities and doubts he had and realised that, as long as she was with him, he didn’t have to be scared of them.

She was the light that could expel that darkness.