The Revenge of the Ritch Bitch

She leaned on the bed opposite Kate. Her hand smoothed down the rubber dress Kate had made her wear. She actually liked it, the feel, the freedom her breasts had; it was damned sexy. ‘

“You know I’m going to fucking kill you,”  Kate seethed quietly.

“I would like you to listen to me, Kate,” Shelly said, “Well, you will listen to what I’ve got to say, but I’d rather not gag you, but I will if I have to. Do we have an understanding?”

Kate reluctantly nodded.

Shelley admired her—the architecture of Kate's control, even in bondage. The leather straps at her neck, wrists, and ankles didn't diminish her; they revealed her. Kate sat rigid in the chair, spine straight despite the restraints, her eyes fixed on Shelly with a mixture of fury and something else. Something that looked like recognition.

"You built this," Shelly said softly, gesturing to the room, the straps, the very air between them. "All of it. The protocols, the positions, the psychology." She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. 

Kate's jaw tightened. The strap across her neck kept her immobile, forcing her to watch. Forcing her to witness her own methodology turned against her.

Colin remained bent over the bed's high back, his wrists cuffed to the bedposts, ankles spread and secured to the legs. His face was turned toward them, eyes wide, cock trapped in a cage. He was a living demonstration piece.

Shelly stood and slowly approached Kate, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. She knelt before the bound woman—not in submission, but in inspection. Her fingers traced the lines of the leather straps, checking the tension, the way she had been taught. Not too tight to cut circulation, but tight enough that struggle would be futile.

"The neck strap is the most important," Shelly murmured, her thumb brushing the leather at Kate's throat. "It centers everything. Makes you aware of every breath." She pressed slightly, feeling Kate's pulse hammer against her palm. "Is it working?"

Kate's nostrils flared. Her breathing had indeed become shallow, deliberate.

Shelly smiled. "Good." She stood and walked to Colin, running her hand down his arched back. He trembled under her touch. “I know you know that submission isn't about weakness. It's about choice." She slapped his ass hard enough to leave a red print.

“Idiots like Colin here would never understand that, but I know you do.”

She returned to the bed, sitting directly across from Kate, their knees almost touching. "The difference between us now? I don't need to pretend I'm doing this for your own good." She spread her legs, letting Kate see how aroused she was, how completely she'd embraced the power Kate had cultivated in her. "I'm doing it because I fucking love it."

Kate's eyes dropped to Shelly's cunt, then back up to her face. The anger was still there, but the recognition had sharpened into something more dangerous. Respect.

"That's right," Shelly whispered. "Now we both know exactly what I am.”

"I don't understand," Kate said, the leather strap across her forehead making every word a struggle. "Are you saying you let me take you? You let Johnathan fuck you?"

Shelly sat cross-legged on the bed, her gaze clinical. "Well," she said, "I've known Johnathan a very long time. He's the son of a very good friend of mine. In fact, it was Johnathan who suggested we look into you, Kate. Or should I say, ex-Detective First Class Kate Jenkins."

Kate's body went rigid against the leather straps. The title landed like a blow, but the context had shifted—this wasn't about police.

"Johnathan's mother," Shelly continued, standing and circling the chair, "is a member of the Sisterhood of Nyx, as am I. Perhaps you've heard the name whispered in certain clubs. Perhaps you haven't. We prefer it that way."

She stopped behind Kate, her breath warm against her ear. "We are a society of women who understand power. Real power." Shelly paused, letting the words settle. The complete history lesson would come later; for now, her job was to assess.

"Johnathan is the son of one of our members," she resumed, walking to Colin's bent form and running a hand down his arched spine. "As such, he's been raised to be submissive to all women. Though in some cases, that translates as respectful—as I'm sure you noticed when you were his boss."

Kate's eyes tracked Shelly's movements, the pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity. The young officer who'd been so eager to work under her, so quick to volunteer for the shit details, so perfectly deferential.

"He was your inside man," Kate rasped, the leather strap across her forehead making every word a struggle.

"Not exactly," Shelly corrected, returning to sit on the bed. "He brought me your file six months ago. A female detective being investigated for misconduct—a career killer indeed." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "But that isn't really what happened, was it?"

Kate took in a deep breath. She'd thought she'd put all this shit behind her. It was a different time, a different place.

"I know it took a lot for you to resign, especially when you were doing the right thing," Shelly continued, her voice softening just enough to be cruel. "But what really piqued our interest was how you sacrificed your career for Johnathan. We know you could have thrown him under the bus. It must really hurt to see the judges and inspectors involved still living the life, even after everything you found out about them."

Kate had a tear in her eye. "They still fucked Johnathan over, though. Busted him down to beat cop."

"Don't you worry about that, Kate. Johnathan is very happy where he is and how close he is to you. You know he loves you." She smiled.

Kate took a deep breath. She loved him, too.

"Which is the real reason he brought us your file?" Shelly said, standing and moving to the toy drawers. "He knew about your extracurricular activities. You were very open with him about them, and we know he willingly participated in some." She smiled as she found what she was looking for—a leather harness and silicone cock. She stepped into it, adjusting the straps around her hips as casually as someone might fasten a belt, never breaking her conversational tone. "Johnathan believes you have what it takes to be part of our group and asked us to look into it."

Kate watched, amazed at the nonchalance.

Shelly stepped behind the bound Colin, lined herself up, and forced the strap-on up his arse without preamble. He screamed. She pulled his head back by his hair and whispered in his ear, "This is how you fuck somebody, you cunt."

She proceeded to do just that, enjoying every one of his screams, her hips moving with practiced efficiency while her eyes remained locked on Kate. "The Sisterhood doesn't recruit from the vanilla world, Kate. We find women like you—women who understand power but have lost their way. Women who think dominance is about taking, not cultivating."

Colin's body jerked with each thrust, his screams tapering into sobs. Shelly reached around and grabbed his hanging balls, squeezing hard enough to make him shriek again. "Johnathan told us how you trained him. How you taught him to anticipate needs, to serve without question. He said you had the instinct, just not the philosophy."

She pulled out abruptly, leaving Colin gaping and trembling. She walked to Kate, the silicone cock glistening, and knelt before her bound form. "The Sisterhood of Nyx is older than you think. We don't just play with power—we worship it. And every woman who joins us must understand both sides of the whip."

She pressed the tip of the strap-on against Kate's knee, leaving a wet trail. "Johnathan wants to be with you. But I must be honest: if you decline our offer and Johnathan wishes to stay with you anyway, he'll be financially set up, but he'll be excommunicated. The Council is inclined to grant his request, given his service. But you have to choose, Kate. Will you remain the bitter ex-cop who preys on the weak? Or will you become what you were always meant to be—a goddess who rules through devotion, not fear?"

Kate's eyes dropped to the cock, then back to Shelly's face. The anger was still there, but something else had begun to bloom—curiosity, or perhaps recognition of a path she'd never known existed.

Shelly stood, unbuckling the harness and letting it fall to the floor. "Think about it." She leaned forward and kissed Kate on the cheek, the gesture startling in its tenderness. She walked to the door, pausing. "Oh, and Kate? Colin stays where he is for now. Consider him a peace offering. Use him as you see fit, but he'll be coming with us; he's heard too much. Johnathan will be in a minute to let you out of that chair."

"Shelly, wait," Kate called out, her voice strained against the leather strap. "I need to ask you something."

Shelly's hand paused on the doorknob. She turned, one eyebrow raised. "What's that?"

"You say you're part of this group that believes women are superior, but you let him do that stuff to you," Kate said, her eyes flicking toward the door where Johnathan had disappeared. "And how did you know I'd be in the store that day?"

Shelly smiled, a genuine expression that softened her clinical demeanor. "Well, the store was a fortunate accident. I couldn't believe it when I saw you shopping. So I engineered things from there. I was initially going to persuade Colin here to visit you on a professional level, taking me along as a sweetener."

She walked back toward the center of the room, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. "As for the other, well, it's simple. I do believe women are superior. I just also happen to be a masochist who loves cock." She shrugged, the gesture almost comically casual. "We are not all man-hating dykes, though, to be honest, there are a few like that."

She left Kate bound in the chair, staring at the trembling man bent over her bed, and for the first time in years, Kate Jenkins didn't know what came next—and found the uncertainty intoxicating.

The door clicked shut. For a long moment, the only sounds were Colin's ragged breathing and the distant hum of the house's heating system. Kate tested the leather straps again—not struggling, just assessing. They held firm, perfectly placed, just tight enough to restrain without cutting circulation.

Footsteps approached—measured, familiar. Johnathan. The door opened, and he stepped through, now wearing only loose linen pants, his muscular torso bare. He carried a tray with water, and a small key. He set it on the nightstand without looking at Kate, his eyes downcast in the way she'd trained him.

"Look at me," Kate commanded, her voice still rough.

His eyes lifted. They held the same devotion she'd seen a thousand times, but now it was layered with something else. Guilt. Hope. Love.

"Did you know?" she asked. "From the beginning?"

Johnathan knelt beside the chair, unbuckling the strap around her neck. "I knew you were being evaluated from our second session," he admitted. "But I didn't know they'd accept me as your sponsor until last month." He moved to her wrists, gently pulling at the buckles. "When Shelly made me take her as you were watching from downstairs,”—" his voice caught “—She told me they'd made their decision."

The wrist straps fell away. Kate flexed her hands, watching the blood flow back. “All that time, you let me think I was breaking you."

"I was breaking myself for you," he said, moving to her ankles. "That's what submission is. You taught me that." The last strap fell. He remained kneeling, his head bowed. "The question is, Kate—did I teach you anything?"

Kate stood slowly, her body stiff from the chair. She walked to Colin, still bent over the bed, and ran a hand down his spine the way Shelly had. He flinched, then stilled.

"Get up," she told Johnathan. When he stood, she cupped his face in her hands. "You taught me that power without sacrifice is just bullying." She kissed him, soft and slow, the first time she'd ever initiated without it being a command. "Now get Colin ready. We're going to have a conversation."

Johnathan's eyes widened. "We're?"

"If I'm joining this Sisterhood," Kate said, her voice taking on the cadence of a woman who'd just found her footing on unfamiliar ground, "I'm doing it my way." She walked to Shelly's discarded harness and picked it up. "And I'm not leaving my toys behind."

She looked at Colin, then at Johnathan, and for the first time that night, she smiled. "Goddess rules through devotion, not fear? Fine. Let's see how devoted they are."

Johnathan's answering smile was pure pride. "Yes, Mistress ."

The word hung in the air, a title earned rather than taken, and Kate felt the power shift settle into her bones—not as a cage, but as a crown.