For Dommestic Use Only

Jayne Renault
5 mins read
Published over 1 year ago
Chapter 2

Take It Upstairs

The slender black-haired man walks ahead of the woman as they climb the stairs together. Though he leads, he is not in control. With his wrists bound by one of his wife’s scarves, the dark woman holds the other end of the invisible leash that tethers him to her.

The bedroom at the end of the hall is fully illuminated; the east-facing windows provide more than enough natural light at this time of day to find their way. Though, in truth, Veronica would be able to navigate this place with a blindfold. It wouldn’t be the first time… 

It is far from the first time Brendan has invited her into this room. It is far from the first time Veronica will take pleasure in making a mess of his marital bed. It unlikely the last time she will have to punish him for doing so.

The large, plush bed is made up with warm earthy tones that match the plainness of the rest of the room. It is a nice, sterile space with nothing whatsoever to give away the debauchery that these painfully neutral walls have witnessed over the years.

Brendan stops at the foot of his bed and turns to Veronica. Knowing better now than to speak unaddressed, he awaits instruction in silence.

“Why don’t you stand right there for me, and…” She takes a step back to appraise him. “Wait.” She squats down in front of him to unbutton his jeans and pulls them halfway down his thighs. He can’t run away, but his presumptuous cock springs out to make a break for it, practically slapping her in the face.

“Oh my…” Veronica pauses close enough for him to feel the heat of her mouth when she speaks; his cock bobs in the direction of her plump dark lips, reaching desperately for her. “Why, Brendan… You’re already so hard.” 

He whimpers when she touches him. She holds him gently in her hand like she’s judging the weight of fresh produce at the grocery store. 

“You are such a greedy little slut, aren’t you.”

It isn’t a question.

Brendan’s arms flex helplessly as he sighs into her and looks down at her fingers painting dark stripes around his hungry cock. She hovers painfully close to the head of his cock only to flash a wicked smile back up at him.

“I really would have loved to suck you dry today but…” 

He whimpers again when she releases him from her soft grip. Brendan stands in place, watching her walk away from him as she heads across the room to the ensuite bathroom. 

“But now…” she calls out from behind the bathroom door, “now I have to spend our whole time together today disciplining you instead.”

When Veronica re-emerges from the bathroom, she is wrapped in Brendan’s wife’s red satin robe. Brendan’s cock twitches aggressively at the sight of her. He watches as she stalks her way into the walk-in closet only to reappear donning a pair of his wife’s favorite black stilettos.

The robe hangs open and loose. Veronica’s perky nipples are little tents in the shiny red material, and the undulation of her cheeky curves when she finally saunters back towards to him is mesmerizing.

“But you knew that would be the case, didn’t you?” she says, raising an eyebrow at him. “After all this time, you’re still such a glutton for punishment.”

Brendan looks down to the floor to hide another smile.

One pace in front of him, she stops. Brendan looks back up to find Veronica staring him dead in the eyes as she slips one hand down the front of her panties. In the stilettos, she’s almost the same height as him; she raises her chin to look down on him.

“Ohh, Brendan…” She swirls her fingers around the pool at her opening. “I’m so wet. I wish you could feel how wet I am right now.”

Like a starved, injured beast watching his last chance at a meal walk away, Brendan’s eyes follow her knuckles wriggling around behind the black diamond of fabric. Veronica withdraws her hand to reveal the thick coat of her varnish gleaming at the tips of her fingers. She sucks them clean one at a time and reaches out to trace Brendan’s lips with them. Brendan catches a whiff of her sharp excitement and shudders, daring to steal a taste with the subtle flick of his tongue. But Veronica pulls away and clucks her tongue at him.

“Are you hungry, pet?” She slips right out of her panties, revealing herself fully to him. “Do you want a treat?” 

He nods too quickly to disguise his urgent desire. “Oh yes, Veronica. Please.”

With the skimpy black material in hand, she moves in so close that Brendan can feel the graze of her red satin nipples on his chest. She teases him with the soft, silky caress of her panties down the side of his face. His arms strain, unable to reach around and pull her into him.

“Open your mouth, Brendan.”

He looks hopeful when he does. Until Veronica smears the wetness from the crotch of her panties into his cheek and shoves the damp black mass into his mouth. He only gags a little when she pokes the last bit inside.

“There,” she pinches his cheek like an overbearing aunt, “why don’t we start with that.”

Brendan bows his head, looking up past his dark eyelashes at Veronica like the chickens ate his bread. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Brendan. You know the rules. You made your choices.” She spins on her heel and makes her way over to the drawer in the nightstand next to the bed. “I really wanted to be fucked properly today. It’s you, my dear, who stepped out of line.” 

The plump curve of Veronica’s ass peeks out from under the edge of the red satin robe. She hears his breath hitch in his nose from across the room when she bends at the waist, wiggles for Brendan as she rummages through the drawer. The drawer where she knows Brendan and his wife keep their toys.

From this trove of goodies, she chooses a smooth, black, phallic vibrator. A white wand-like device. A purple bejeweled butt plug, just in case. And a little squeeze bottle of lube that she props up on top of the nightstand. Satisfied with her selection, she turns back to check on Brendan. Nothing out of place. He is ever the stoic, pouty sentinel standing guard over his own bed.

“Come now. You know I have to do this,” she says, twriling the black vibrator between her fingers. “You have to learn that you have no authority here.”

Unable to speak, Brendan nods his head knowingly and lowers his gaze. A few long strides and Veronica is back in front of him. As close as she can be without touching him. The strain in his face pulls the muscles in his neck taut. 

“You know this,” she draws a thick trail of saliva when she fishes the panties from his mouth with two fingers, “yet you continue to insist on challenging me.”  With the obstruction removed, he slurps back on the spittle and gulps the cool air down his throat. “You — what do you say?”

“Thank you,” Brendan gasps.

“Better. Where was I? Right. You,” she wields the vibrator like an obsidian dagger and points at his face, “are a petulant little bitch.” 

Veronica shoves the sopping panties back into his mouth and her eyes stay trained on her poor Brendan as she walks back toward the bed and crawls up onto the mattress.

“So, you will stay right where you are. In perfect silence. You will watch me pleasure myself. You will see how happy I am without you. Because I don’t need you. Never forget that. You, Brendan, are the one who needs me.”

His body weight shifts from one foot to the other but his gaze does not waver.

“Furthermore, you will not touch yourself,” she says laying back into the pillow. “Well, of course, you won’t. Because your hands are tied. And you will not come. Understood? Nod to answer.”

Brendan nods.

“You deserve every bit of this, don’t you?”

Brendan nods.

“And look at how hard you are… You love every bit of this too, don’t you?”

Brendon nods.

“Well, at least we can agree on that.”

She flicks on the black vibrator and begins to trace the spaces where her legs join the rest of her body. Glancing over at the window, she laughs to herself.

“Mm, can you imagine what the neighbors would think if they knew that this is what you do when did your pretty wife’s not at home?”


More by Queen Jayne:

The Birthday Bash
Chicago Rare
Comings and Goings
Compliance Risk
Condemned Desire
Conservation Area

Diamonds and Pearls
The Edge of Glory
Expressions of Grief
For Dommestic Use Only
Hey, Babe.
Just Dessert

Lucky Shot
Summer Heat
Strangers on a Train
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