Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 9

At least, that’s what it looked like. In reality, it was much more.

It was a small choker made of a thin material that looked like some kind of suede or velvet—soft to the touch and comfortable. It also came with paraphernalia like jewels, allowing Helen to decorate it for different occasions. Of course, as Erin had explained, it had a lot of the functionality that Bobbi’s collar had. Also, according to Erin, the collar was explicitly crafted for Mrs. VanCamp, and on the inside was etched the words ‘Property of Marcus Upton.’

Helen’s ice-blue eyes stared at the object in the box for a long moment before finally looking back up at me. Her gaze was unreadable, and she didn’t say anything in response. She simply stared.

“I want you to wear this,” I said. I think I sounded confident, but it was hard to tell when my stomach was doing backflips. You’d think it’d be easier to do something like this after everything Helen and I had done with Bobbi, but Helen was different. She was special.

With that mysterious look still in her eyes, Helen started to ask, “Is this…”

“It’s not just like Bobbi’s,” I said, guessing what she was thinking. “You’re not her, and that’s not what I want.”

She looked back down at it, her perfectly manicured fingers touching the soft material gingerly.

“I took you back in New York. Remember?”

“Yes,” Helen said quietly.

“You’re leaving to go back there, and I don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”

Helen looked back up at me, and I could see a flicker of… something in her eyes. It almost looked like offense. “I wouldn’t do that,” Helen said. “I owe you everything.”

I tried to keep the smile off my face, not wanting to spoil the moment. “You don’t owe me anything. You already gave me everything. Now, I want you to show me you meant it by accepting this.”

Helen picked up the collar gingerly between two fingers and held it up. “You want me… to wear this.”

It felt like the moment of truth, so I met her steady gaze, steeled myself, and said, “Yes.”

“I’ve been wearing a collar for a long time, Marcus. Roger—”

“I’m not Roger,” I said, dropping the box to the floor. Simply mentioning that asshole’s name got my blood boiling. I stepped closer to Helen. “I’ve run that asshole off from your home and your work. I gave you your job. I’ve basically given you Bobbi.”

Helen seemed hesitant to speak. “I…”

“I did all that because you’re an amazing woman, Helen VanCamp. You’re mine, and I want you to wear this collar so you never forget. I want your friends… colleagues… the help… I want them to see you wearing this collar day in and day out and wonder. Then, I want them to suspect. Then, without ever asking, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Reaching out, I stroked her cheek with a couple of fingers. “I’d tattoo my name on you, but I don’t want to mar your perfect skin.”

She stared at me in silence as I ran my fingers along her jaw; the collar dangled from her grasp. Once again, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I wanted to say more… to convince her, but not talking felt right. I had made my case. Now, the ball was in her court.

“Promise me you won’t be like him.”

“No,” I said, my voice as firm as possible. “I’m not him, and you know it. I’ve earned your trust. You know I’ll take good care of you. What’s more, you’re already mine. Where would you go? This is just a formality.” I leveled my gaze at her and said, “I promise you won’t ever regret this.”

Moments ticked by and turned into minutes.

Finally, Helen audibly swallowed and pushed the collar into my hand. I looked down at it, thinking I’d lost my case, and saw she’d turned her back to me. She lifted her golden blonde hair and bunched it on top of her head, giving me a lovely view of her long, elegant neck.

“Would you like to be the one to put it on, sir?”

My heart started racing, and it took me a second to move, but when I did, I slipped the collar around her neck and joined the two ends in place. As soon as they got near each other, they jumped into place, and I heard a faint click. I gave the collar an experimental tug to find it wasn’t coming apart. It wouldn’t… not without me releasing it from my phone or the contingency remote Erin had in her possession. Helen wouldn’t be able to remove it without my permission.

The older woman released her hair, and it spilled back down her back as she turned to face me once again. The simple black choker circled her neck, looking more like an understated, stylish accessory than what it really was—a sign of ownership.

Now that she’d accepted it, whatever nervousness I felt was suddenly gone. I slid an arm around her waist and pulled her toward me while the other hand ran up her back and grasped her neck. The soft suede-like material felt good under my grasp.

“Say the words,” I said, “but only if you mean them.”

Her crystal blue eyes searched my face briefly before saying, “I’m yours.” It was barely a whisper.

The hand on the back of her head slipped into her hair, and my fingers grasped golden strands. I slowly tugged on it, forcing her head back as I brought my lips down to hers for a heated kiss. It was met with equal fervor, and we spent the next several moments exchanging tongues and saliva. Our moans and groans muted as the other swallowed them.

I suddenly ripped Helen away from me, and she gasped as I spun her around while still holding onto her hair. Then I pulled her into me as I wrapped my free arm around her waist. My hand immediately sought her breast through her loose, slightly oversized blouse. I immediately found her tit hanging free under the thin cotton fabric and squeezed it roughly; her nipple was already completely erect.

Burying my nose in her hair, I breathed deeply, taking in her scent before whispering in her ear, “God, I’m going to miss you, pet.”

Helen’s breath caught, and she shivered in my arms as I used the exact same word she often used when talking to Bobbi. I could only hope it drove home the message I wanted—where Bobbi was concerned, she was a woman to be feared and obeyed. She was a dominant goddess.

However, she had no control over what I gave her. I could do what I pleased. I was her god. I gave, and I could take away. If I wanted, I could tie her down in the dungeon like and use her like we used Bobbi.

Letting go of her breast, I hooked my fingers in the waistband of the lounge pants she was wearing and yanked them over her hips and ass, dragging them down to her ankles. Helen grabbed the bedpost, clinging onto it as I pulled her back against me by her hair.

In record time, I managed to get my pants off and kick them to the side. My dick was already hard from the lead-up to this moment. All I had to do was aim the head and press it against her slit. I was a little surprised to find that the outer lips of her pussy weren’t as soaking wet as I was used to, but honestly… it made sense.