Chapter 5: The Collar
Rio pushed herself upright, wincing, feeling the cool slickness between her thighs. She fumbled with her clothes, her fingers clumsy and numb. Agatha watched, utterly composed, as if she hadn’t just rearranged Rio’s entire nervous system over her desk.
“Read the file tonight,” Agatha said, turning to gaze at the skyline. “We’ll discuss your initial strategy tomorrow. My driver will take you home.”
The dismissal was absolute. Rio stumbled out, the file folder clutched like a shield, the whiskey untouched.
The following week was a haze of frantic research. The case was, as promised, nearly hopeless. A prenuptial agreement crafted by sharks, a labyrinthine corporate structure designed to obfuscate. Rio’s initial legal drafts felt childish. Insufficient.
Her late-night email to Agatha, filled with frustrated questions, received a one-line reply: “Solutions exist outside the memos. Come to my residence. 9 PM. The driver will collect you.”
The car didn’t take her to the office tower. It glided into the underground vault of a silent, sleek residential building. The elevator opened directly into a foyer of black marble and a single, dramatic orchid. Agatha stood waiting, having changed. She wore a robe of darkest emerald silk, tied loosely at her waist.
“You’re struggling,” Agatha said, not as a question. She didn’t invite Rio in so much as allow her to pass by.
The penthouse was a study in shadow and texture. The main room was dominated by a vast bed on a dais, draped in silks the color of midnight. Candles flickered, casting living shapes on the walls. The scent here was deeper, more intimate—jasmine, skin, and a hint of cedar.
“The legal precedent is against her,” Rio began, her voice sounding too loud, too brittle in the quiet. “The corporate veil is impenetrable. I’ve looked at every angle—”
“Stop talking about angles,” Agatha interrupted softly. She walked to a velvet-lined box on a low table and lifted something out. It caught the candlelight, a glittering, cruel spark. A choker, slim and severe, set with a row of jet-black diamonds. “Come here.”
Rio approached, her argument dying on her lips. Agatha didn’t ask. She simply fastened the cool band around Rio’s throat. The click of the tiny lock was deafening.
Then Agatha attached a thin, black leather leash to a discreet ring at the front.
Rio’s breath hitched. She looked up, a protest forming, a flash of her old brattiness. Agatha’s gaze silenced it. It was patient, amused, and utterly immovable.
“Tonight, you learn a different kind of persuasion,” Agatha murmured, giving the leash a gentle, testing tug. Rio’s head followed the motion instinctively. “The kind that happens before the papers are ever filed. In the whispers. In the concessions made in dark rooms.”
She led Rio towards the bed, not by force, but by the unyielding certainty of the leash. When they reached the deep fur rug beside the dais, Agatha stopped.
“On your knees.”
Rio sank down, the plush fur soft against her shins. The city’s neon glow painted Agatha in streaks of blue and red. Agatha looked down at her, a goddess in silk.
“You don’t speak unless I give you permission, pet,” Agatha stated, her voice a low thrum that vibrated in Rio’s bones. She placed a booted foot on the rug beside Rio’s thigh. “Now show me how well you worship pussy with that smart mouth of yours.”
The crude command, delivered in Agatha’s cultured tone, sent a jagged bolt of heat straight to Rio’s core. She felt dizzy, owned. Agatha slowly untied her robe. It parted, revealing the smooth plane of her stomach, the curve of her hips. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
Agatha guided Rio’s head forward with a firm pressure on the leash. Rio’s nose brushed neatly-trimmed hair, then the potent, musky scent of her filled Rio’s senses. It was clean, earthy, overwhelmingly Agatha.
“Open your mouth,” Agatha whispered. “Taste it.”
Rio obeyed, her tongue slipping out to find slick, heated flesh. The flavor was complex, salty and deep. A soft, approving sigh came from above her.
“Good. Now use that clever tongue. Lick me like you’re trying to find the loophole in a contract.”
Rio pressed forward, her world narrowing to this single, dark point. She licked a slow, broad stripe, then focused on the tight, swollen bud at the apex. She circled it, her own arousal a throbbing, forgotten ache.
“Deeper,” Agatha breathed, her hand tangling in Rio’s hair, not guiding, just holding. “Get your tongue inside me. Fuck me with it.”
Rio moaned against her, the vibration making Agatha’s hips jerk. She speared her tongue as far as it would go, delving into that slick, tight heat, lapping at the soft inner walls. The sounds were obscene, wet and messy. Agatha’s grip tightened, her composure beginning to fray.
“Yes, just like that. You hungry little bitch.” Agatha’s voice was turning ragged. “You love this, don’t you? Being put on your knees. Using that law-school mouth for what it’s actually good for.”
Rio could only answer with her tongue, working faster, sucking and licking with a frantic, desperate focus. She was drowning in it, in the taste and the smell and the overwhelming proof of Agatha’s power.
Agatha’s thighs began to tremble against the sides of Rio’s head. Her breaths came in sharp, controlled gasps that slowly lost their control.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she commanded, her hips rolling against Rio’s face, smearing her own wetness across Rio’s cheeks and chin. “Right there. Right the fuck there.”
Her climax wasn’t loud. It was a tense, shuddering release, a silent convulsion that Rio felt through every part of her own body. Agatha’s cunt clenched around Rio’s tongue, pulsing, flooding her mouth with a bitter, electric tang. Rio drank it down, swallowing every drop, until Agatha finally pushed her head back, gasping.
Rio knelt back on her heels, panting, her lips glistening, her jaw aching. The diamond choker felt heavy, a proud collar. Agatha looked down at her, her eyes black in the low light, her chest rising and falling.
She slowly re-tied her robe, the act somehow more intimate than the nudity. Then she unclipped the leash, her fingers brushing the damp skin of Rio’s throat.
“The corporate veil isn’t impenetrable,” Agatha said quietly, her voice husky but already regaining its edge. “You find the human failure behind it. The man is having an affair with his junior analyst. His wife doesn’t know. Use that.”
Rio blinked, the legal strategy landing amidst the afterglow like a shard of ice. The connection was immediate, brutal, brilliant. It was blackmail. It was outside every rule.
“That’s… that’s not admissible,” Rio whispered, her voice raw.
Agatha smiled, a thin, dangerous curve of her lips. She cupped Rio’s cheek, her thumb stroking over her wet bottom lip. “I didn’t say you’d file it. I said you’d use it. Now you know what you’re really looking for. My driver is waiting.”
She turned and walked toward the balcony, leaving Rio kneeling in the fur, the taste of power and violation still sharp on her tongue.