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|© Copyright 2017 - AmyAmy - Copyright © 2012. All rights are retained by the author. This work may not be reproduced for profit or without this attribution.|
|Storycodes: M/f; Mdom; latex; catsuit; corset; armbinder; boots; benwa-balls; insert; public; force; tease; torment; chastitybelt; F/f; piercing; kiss; handcuffs; straps; mast; oral; sex; denial; climax; cons/reluct; X||
|Pretenders 4 AmyAmy M/f; Mdom; latex; catsuit; corset; armbinder; boots; benwa-balls; insert; public; force; tease; torment; chastitybelt; F/f; piercing; kiss; handcuffs; straps; mast; oral; sex; denial; climax; cons/reluct; X|
|story continued from chapter three
Cassie was certain that Gabe was searching for her bondage toys and rubber in her bedroom. What would he do to her once he found them?
He came out carrying her gym bag and her laundry basket.
He tipped out the basket and a mass of blue rubber slithered out in front of her.
“Get dressed in these.”
She hesitated. Was she making a mistake?
“Please sir, I need the lube from the bathroom.”
“Stay still. I’ll get it.”
“It’s the big pump bottle on top of the cabinet.”
She stripped off her clothes. As she removed each cum-stained item, Gabe took it from her and dropped it into the laundry basket. When she passed him her underwear he inspected the crotch.
“Soaking wet,” he said. He scooped out a handful and pressed his slippery fingers into her mouth for her to suck clean. She’d forgotten what she tasted like, the salty taste far milder than his cum.
Her sodden panties were the last item. She pumped a big handful of lube and spread it all over her belly, working down to cover her mons, and her well-toned buttocks.
He watched her intently, his penis hardening. So soon? His cum was still drying on her chest, but he looked able to go again already.
She took her time smoothing the slippery goo over her hips and then the twin orbs of her bottom, fascinated by the way it glistened under the downlights. It felt wonderful, smooth and cool. She took another handful and began to smear it over her thighs. Concentrating on the sensation settled her nerves and aroused her at the same time.
Too soon, she was done and it was time to step into the suit. She pulled it up to her waist and wriggled the thru-crotch zip into place so it fit closely, and adjusted the pair of zipper tags so they were just behind her pussy, ready for quick access. A baggy crotch was unacceptable. The zip was sharp, scratching against her denuded pussy, but at least there were no hairs to catch in it. She worked the wrinkles out of the legs. She pumped another slippery handful and smeared it generously over her arms.
Reaching back, she hooked her hands into the arm holes. The suit was a tight fit over her shoulders and it was easiest to hook them both in at once. He pulled the body of the suit up, helping her in. It was a pleasant improvement over doing it all by herself. Her lubed hands slipped easily through the sleeves and out into the open again. She pulled the zip up the front half-way, reached in, re-positioned her boobs, then pulled it up the rest of the way.
She sat on the sofa to put the boots on. They were easy to zip up, but with their four-inch heels and no platforms, she had to balance on the balls of her feet. How long would he make her stand up in them? How far would she have to walk? When her feet were cramping, would they still turn her on? The way she felt now, maybe they would. Besides, she had dressy shoes that didn’t have as much support as the boots and were worse.
She stood up and found herself almost eye-to-eye with him. He was holding the corset, laces partially undone. He wrapped it around her and held it closed while she snapped the busk closed. It was different, being laced in by someone else. The gradual tightening felt good at first, only slowly starting to feel like too much. It reached the limit of comfort, but he kept on pulling, on purpose, or oblivious to how hard he could pull on the laces.
She squeaked in protest.
“Too tight?” he said, chuckling.
“Yes. Far too tight. It’s not funny at all. You’ll just wreck me and the corset.” She reached back for the laces. He slapped her hands away from them.
“This thing needs a lock, but I think it’s about right. It could go a lot tighter, but I guess you need to work up to it.”
“No. No. This is too tight.” Her face was heating up again. He’d be able to guess she was hiding something. She was remembering her corset fantasies with Octavia. Had he homed in on that? No. He’d always liked corsets, had always tried to get her into them. He couldn’t possibly know about Octavia or what she’d done.
“I guess you need more practice. Why don’t you wear a corset more often? You look fantastic.”
While he was talking, she unzipped the front of her suit a few inches, reached in and settled her boobs into the support of the corset cups.
“This is the best fitting one I have, and it’s still bad. You try wearing it for more than a couple of hours. Besides, people would think it was creepy.” She went to do her zip back up, he stopped her.
“Since when did your underwear become their business?” He pulled and released each lacing loop, checking the tension, like Octavia had done, but nowhere near as capably.
Why didn’t he understand? “How do you suppose people would react at my work once they caught on?”
“They’ll just think you lost weight or something.”
“Don’t be silly. They could hardly miss it.” She struggled for an example. “I mean, what if people at your work thought you were wearing women’s panties?” She pulled at the bottom of the corset, settling it on her hips.
“But I don’t, and if I did, it would be way different. It would be weird.”
“And you think a corset isn’t? The only people who wear them are burlesque singers and porno actresses. They’d draw conclusions from that wouldn’t they? It’s the same thing.”
“You’re over-reacting. But if you believe that, you’ll have to make sure they don’t find out you’re wearing one, because while it’s my turn on top you are going into waist training full-time, and in case you’re confused what full-time means, it includes weekdays.”
A thrill ran through her, tingling like a trickle of ice water. Why had she let that fantasy into her head earlier? There was no way he could miss how she was reacting.
“Wow. I should have done this a long time ago. I never knew you had a waist-training fantasy.”
“I don’t have one,” she said. Her voice came out a strangled squawk.
“Sure,” he said. He grabbed her crotch. There was an audible squelch. His hand came away wet. She was dripping through the zip.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a good one, made to measure so it doesn’t hurt. Sturdy, so you can lace it tight.”
She struggled to find an excuse, a come-back, or any kind of plausible refutation. There had to be something. The shock of his buckling the arm-binder’s collar round her neck made her forget about that in a hurry.
He pulled her arms behind her, pressed her palms together, thumbs resting in the crack of her bum. The thick leather cuffs cinched tight, pulling her wrists into place. If she’d wanted to get loose it was too late now. Her shoulders complained as he tightened the other strap just below her elbows.
He adjusted the strap where it buckled to the collar, pulling it up a hole. Her arms were forced into awkward tension. She had to lift her shoulders or half-strangle herself.
She made a gurgling noise. “Can hardly breathe.”
“Good,” he said.
He showed her the ben-wa balls, one in each hand. She struggled to pull away from him, but it was useless. He undid the bottom of the thu-zip, opening up her crotch, then pushed them up inside her dripping pussy. She was so wet there was no way they’d stay up there.
He zipped the suit closed, trapping them in place. The corset had tightened the suit even more than when she’d put it on, and the zip made a camel-toe of her pussy-lips. She was wrong, there was no way she could squeeze them out.
“That was rotten,” she complained.
“Manners,” he said, laughing.
She answered in a whisper. “Sorry sir.”
“Be good, or I’ll gag you when we get home.”
“What?” Home? What did he mean? No way she could go anywhere dressed like this anyway. Wait. She’d forgotten something. “Sorry sir,” she said, hoping it would be enough.
“We’re going to my place now. You’ll be staying until next weekend. Maybe longer, if you don’t behave yourself.”
“What? Gabe… It’s only Monday, and I’ve been … working all weekend. I’m almost done in.”
“Then you’ll be completely done in by next Monday. If you’re good, I’ll let you call in sick. It’s no more than you deserve, isn’t it?”
Between the rush of arousal and the rising panic, her brain wouldn’t work. Thoughts kept coming, too fast, all jumbled up, noisy, clattering, out of control, marbles on glass. He couldn’t possibly intend to take her outside dressed like this could he?
He hooked a finger into the ring at the front of her collar and dragged her forward. She could follow, or she could fall on her face. She left her choice a moment too late and stumbled on her heels, almost falling. The sharp movement made the balls jiggle, the weights rattling and sending shivers through her insides.
Before she knew it, they were outside her door. He pulled it closed, picked up her gym bag and started dragging her down the hall. She was in no shape to fight, the collar was choking and every step set the balls squirming inside her. If she wasn’t careful she’d cum by the time they got down the stairs. Or if they ran into one of her neighbors, she’d simply die of shame.
It was a good thing she’d be moving out soon.
Almost a year later, Cassie sat on the black couch in the back room of the Hot Cherry Piercing Studio, legs spread, naked apart from her shimmering blue-on-blue paisley pattern corset.
“Whoah. That hurt less than I expected,” she said.
It had hurt a lot, but she’d been expecting agony beyond belief. She’d come out ahead.
She looked down at Vera, the best piercing and tattoo artist she could find in the area. A friend of Gabe’s had suggested her, but she was also recommended on Friendface by dozens of people.
Vera was leaning over in a way that showed off her bosom. Cassie could look right down the woman’s cleavage, could make out the large black underwire bra, netted beneath a fuzzy angora mesh-sweater. Vera’s boobs must always have been that big, she just hadn’t noticed it before.
The new piercing was starting to ache and Cassie squirmed in discomfort on the couch. It was a confused piece of furniture, like the mutated offspring of a three-way between a hospital bed, a gynecological chair and a leather sofa. She wasn’t completely convinced that she needed to be strapped down to it by a broad leather belt around her waist, and another around each thigh, but Vera had insisted it was vital she not move during the piercing.
Vera clicked off the dazzling work-lights, leaving only the muted glow from the single scarf-draped table-lamp. The air was hazy with smoke from the incense, whatever it was, it smelled like sweet-almonds. Cassie could barely make out shapes. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the shadows.
Why was it piercing studios were all staffed by goth girls who looked about sixteen years old now? What had happened to the days where you got your body-piercings from a mustachioed biker geezer in a tattoo parlor with blacked out windows and a cow-skull over the door? Maybe thoughts like that were a sign she was getting old?
No. Definitely not. Why was she thinking of herself as old all of a sudden? Vera was probably only a couple of years younger than her. If they dressed up the same, no guy would be able to tell which was the oldest, would they?
Vera, smiled. “It will probably get a bit sore later. We talked through this, so I won’t go on. You’ve got all the literature, and if you need anything, just call me. I’m here for you. I’ll see you next week for a check-up, but you can come back sooner if you want.”
More visits to you, Vera, with an appointment fee for each one. It sure adds up. “It’s in my calendar.”
“When we’re finished I think you’ll be really proud of it. I totally appreciate you choosing me to help you make it happen.”
Cassie nodded. She probably shouldn’t say anything, but she couldn’t help herself.
“It’s starting to ache a bit.” That was an understatement. She was sure she could feel the steel of the placeholder ring penetrating the flesh of her sex. She could sense how it blocked the fresh hole from healing over. It was probably all in her imagination. Nobody could feel that, could they? “Did it really go alright?”
The first piercing was horizontal through her clitoral hood. Apparently, a common piercing, and Vera had done several of them before. There would be two more, one above her clitoris, and one below. According to Vera, the top and bottom were less ordinary. Earlier, she’d explained how she’d researched them and checked with experts so she wouldn’t run into any snags.
Even though it didn’t touch her clitty itself, the entire area was aching miserably.
Vera’s hand brushed against Cassie’s boob, touching the nipple, probably just an accident. It was a muted sensation but it caught her unawares. She would have jumped out of the seat if she wasn’t strapped down.
Vera must have sensed her alarm, patted her on the shoulder. “No need to panic. It’s not deep. As long as you take care of it properly, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
Cassie nodded again.
Vera turned away, fiddling with something on the workbench. “I’m really grateful to you for letting me use the before and after pictures on my site.”
Grateful? She may as well thank him. It had been his idea, hadn’t it? The thought of it still sent a thrill through her. It was embarrassing. Not a topic she was able to discuss easily, and that was the least of it. Even now her face was turning hot and red. Intensely hot, like she’d been standing too close to a bonfire.
“So fearless to do something like this your first mod. Such a commitment to the lifestyle. It’s a pity we never ran into each other before.” She turned to face Cassie, hands behind her back, and gave an odd smile. “But now we have. I guess it was just fated.”
“I’m sorry. Don’t look at me. You’ve made me embarrassed.”
Vera giggled. “It looks cute when you do that.”
“You should be used to it by now,” Cassie said in a fake grumpy tone.
It had been intensely humiliating to show Vera the piece of machined stainless steel so she could put the piercings in the right places.
Showing Vera the device had been bad enough, but showing random people her pierced pussy on a web-site was a different sort of worry, and unlike the piercing itself, a decision that couldn’t be undone. Sure, her name wouldn’t be mentioned, and anybody who could recognize her from a picture of her chastity-pierced genitals would have to already know about them, but there were always tricky people who found things out. She’d learned that the hard way with the corset, and the problems from it were still ongoing.
The possible embarrassment was just one part that worried her. Her main worry was about where it was all headed with Gabe. She was agreeing to surrender control over an essential, intimate part of her life. Sure, he’d allowed that she could keep a copy of the tool for the pins in a break-to-open box that he’d print out. It would be a betrayal to use it without good reason, and probably the end of them if she did. It was the sort of thing she’d only do if it was all over anyway.
He’d really have her at his mercy, worse than the corset. With the pins above and below the hood securing it in place, and the final pin through the hood for good measure, it would block all access to her clit. It wasn’t mostly make-believe, it would be genuinely impossible to cheat, and unlike a belt, she could be kept in it full-time, and for as long as he wanted.
Her clit wouldn’t be hers any more. It would be his, and that was just the first step. Once she was healed enough to wear the cover, she would start to get the other piercings, the ones through her labia, seven on each side, closely spaced, so her vulva could be zipped shut and locked from top to bottom.
The same company that made the clit-cover made the “zipper”. She hadn’t bought one yet, but she’d seen pictures with horizontal bars threaded through the piercings and held in place with a vertical rod on each side, and locked at the bottom with a padlock. A padlock… It looked seriously uncomfortable. It was the real deal too, the spacing of the rods was so close, there was no way she’d be getting anything inside herself. It really was like a zipper.
She’d agreed to wear it whenever he wanted her to. Probably the padlock key would be the same deal as the tool for the cover pins, but she hadn’t put that to Gabe yet. It wouldn’t make sense for him to say no, but maybe he’d think of something she’d have to do in exchange for that privilege.
Once it was all done, chances were that unless he had his cock in her, or she was on her period, she’d be pinned and locked closed with a whole lot of non-negotiable stainless steel. And even when he did unzip her, there wasn’t any guarantee he’d remove the clit-cover too. And what if he decided he was happy with her other holes? She’d be left frustrated for as long as it suited him to torture her. It would be naïve to think he wouldn’t stimulate her in other ways, to build up her desperation.
The act of getting this first piercing had shaken things out in her head.
Somewhere in the last year it had stopped feeling like a game. She understood at last, she was a person who did these things, and who wanted to do them. She couldn’t pretend she was just trying them out, that delusion was far behind her. It wasn’t easy, but she could face it now, she was addicted to the roller-coaster of emotions she was riding. But was she addicted to submitting to Gabe? No, she wasn’t just addicted, worse than that, it had become a habit.
He already controlled the key to her corset. Maybe she would be giving up too much power? She could always walk away, but as long as she wanted to keep him, she would always stay. It kept going his way, not just on this, but his every whim. Somehow it had turned out so she had nothing beyond him, no social life, no friends. Perhaps soon, no job or means of self-support. What then? Would he forbid her from leaving the flat? No, nothing so boring, he’d just make it increasingly more difficult and humiliating.
Gabe’s turn on top had been extended and extended. First there was the move into the new flat, and the playroom to furnish and try out. They’d both been so excited, and she hadn’t felt like swapping then. A couple of weeks later the new corset was ready.
When she started to break it in, he insisted that she wear a steel chastity belt whenever she wasn’t wearing the corset, “to make sure you follow through.” Another, erotically charged, couple of weeks slipped by, with him more in charge than ever. She had no complaints about that. Or perhaps she had some at the time, but they were forgotten now.
With the corset properly seasoned, every morning she locked herself into it and handed Gabe the key. He let her loosen the laces at night, and take it off to shower in the morning. If he wasn’t available, she had to sleep in it laced tight. On one occasion he’d been away for a week. The only real problem was that she couldn’t shower.
He got her a second corset for her birthday, the one she was wearing now, and she’d wanted to season it and try it out properly before taking a turn on top, but that had been five months ago. It seemed like the longer Gabe stayed on top, the more natural it was to keep things that way.
So many nights, hugged by the corset, she’d rubbed herself to sleep after satisfying Gabe with her mouth. Their weekend sex was still great, but he never wanted to do it Monday to Friday. Maybe he was denying her, or himself? At least he hadn’t complained about her self-gratification, though there were nights when he’d chained her wrists to the bed-head, or to her collar. That was usually on a Friday though, to build up her anticipation.
Was she learning never to question him? Never to speak about topics he didn’t want to discuss? It made him broody and withdrawn. Acting hurt, he’d disappear for a night or two, and she’d be stuck laced tight and unable to shower. She dreaded that he was so disappointed that he might not come back. Was that was why she never brought up one-sided nature of their weekday sex?
Would she wake up one morning to find she was desperately unhappy, but too afraid to do anything about it? She couldn’t blame their lifestyle if that happened, it could happen to anyone. But if she kept handing more and more power to him, only to eventually find herself trapped in misery, she might be too deep in a hole to get out, even if she found the willpower. She ought to know better than anyone, that once you were really stuck, it didn’t matter how hard you struggled, you weren’t getting free.
It seemed obvious now, how he’d reinforced her eager compliance, associating ever-increasing bondage with rewards of pleasure. She’d loved it, the feeling of surrender, took a delight in not being able to make certain choices. He’d only been cultivating urges that she already had. Deep down, was he simply trying to give her whatever she wanted?
When she’d first promised to accept whatever chastity rules and devices he liked, for as long as he wanted, she’d felt an incredible rush. Since then she’d been hornier than ever before in her life. That had been weeks ago, but it wasn’t going away. Just the thought of it still had her so on edge that by lunchtime her panties would be soaked, and she’d have to change them in the toilets at work. And she wasn’t even in the chastity yet.
She’d got used to the new corset, and had become bored. She’d made a mistake by mentioning the possibility of swapping roles to spice things up. That black mood had come over him. His only response was a discouraging grunt. Later, he suggested she needed to give chastity a real go before they swapped, “just so you’ll understand.” He was still holding that over her, even though he seemed increasingly reluctant to admit it had ever happened.
When she pointed out that a belt wouldn’t work with the corset, Gabe’s mood had worsened. He stormed out without saying a word. He didn’t return for three days. When he did, he was unsettlingly upbeat. Nervous and eager to fix things, she admitted she was very fond of the corset, but was more than happy to give it up to wear a belt, if that was what he wanted. Or maybe they could get one that would lock over the corset? She brought the one they already had and asked him to put it on her.
She was surprised when he told her, “No need for that thing. I’ve found the perfect toy for you Cass. You won’t have to give up your corset.” He showed her a picture of a woman’s genitals. Where the clit hood ought to be there was a metal device.
She felt a kind of chill come over her. “Is that for real? How does it stay on?” But she could see what it was, and could guess how it stayed put. Her thoughts were running wild. She was already imagining that it was her in the picture. What would it be like? How would it feel to have piercings in such a sensitive place? Steel rods that she couldn’t remove? What would it be like to have no way to get at her clit? Surely nobody would give up so much of themselves?
It was plain that the woman in the picture could still be fucked without removing the device. Would Gabe want to do that? He could deny her pleasure while still taking his own. The guilt and excitement were all mixed up. There were women around the world denied control of their bodies and she was thinking of deliberately giving up control of hers. Wasn’t that immoral somehow? Was she abandoning some feminine ethical duty? Was there something wrong with her, thinking that any part of this was ok?
Gabe must have misread her doubt. He suggested that if she lacked the willpower or commitment to try chastity, it was fine. She could always get some other piercings to liven things up, something fun for her. Nipple rings for example? Of course, she’d balked at the idea of an easy way out.
After that, it had taken weeks for the device to arrive and to find somebody to do the piercings. Then Gabe had taken her on a surprise holiday, delaying things again. She was starting to see a pattern. It was closing in on a year since they’d moved in together, and when she didn’t find a reason to keep Gabe on top for herself, he always found one for her.
If she followed his latest plan, she wouldn’t be left rubbing herself to sleep on weeknights. She wouldn’t be rubbing herself at all. Not from now on, while she was sore from the piercings, and definitely not later when they’d healed. The other two holes would be staged a few weeks apart.
She had that time before it came to a head, but once the last piercing was healed, she would have to decide whether to keep her promises and stay with him, at the new, adjusted level of subservience, or confront him with a change-over or break-up ultimatum. Either way, she’d be burning a piece of her self-esteem in the hope of saving the rest of it.
It wasn’t obvious which way hurt the least. Her greatest enemy was herself. The urge to explore the feelings of submission to enforced chastity was like a maggot eating away at her common-sense. She didn’t have to decide just yet. Probably, she’d put it off until it was too late, and the whole thing a fait-accompli.
For now, she’d was sore from the new piercing. After that there’d be the next one, and the next. How long would she have to go without before it was done? In hindsight, her time in the steel belt had, been incredibly sexy. But it had just been a couple of weeks, and only on and off. She’d never been denied release for an extended period. The possibility was as exciting as it was worrying. It would be a waste not to find out.
Would all the denial make the few orgasms she got mind-shatteringly intense? Or would giving Gabe so much power over her transform her into a clinging, needy, psycho-bitch seething with resentment? Would what remained of their relationship be poisoned by her need? Would her lust be the thing that finally tore them apart?
Vera said something.
Cassie shook her head, as if it might clear her thoughts. “Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t mumble. I really like your corset. Was it expensive?”
“I don’t know, it was a present. It was made to measure, so I guess it wasn’t cheap. I’ve had several off-the-shelf ones but they never fit my shape quite right. This is perfect though. It’s quite comfy, even when it’s laced tight.”
“Do you have a lot of them?”
“This? Well, it’s only my second. I still wear the first one, but this is prettier.” She didn’t mention all the others she had at home, unsuitable for wearing in public. The ones she wore at the weekend were much more strict. She was distracted thinking of the extra-long-line one that laced down to her thighs, but Vera was still looking at her. It was time to undo the straps and leave.
“Your waist is so tiny. You must have been training it for ages?”
“Just a while.” She hummed to herself. “But I guess it’s almost a year now.”
“It is really pretty. Could I ask you for a link to whoever made it?”
It was nice to be complimented on it for a change. Before she started wearing one full time, Cassie had made fun of people who wore corsets in public. Now she had to put up with others giggling and whispering behind her back. The corset had caused some trouble at work, but if she kept it hidden nobody could say much about it – to her face – but she knew they said plenty between themselves. She had to be careful to keep her appearance twice as neat as before so there was nothing anybody could call her up on. Still, it was only a matter of time before they found some excuse to get rid of her. With her dress-restrictions, she wouldn’t have a big choice of job opportunities after that happened.
Cassie reached for her phone. “No problem. I think they’re a bit backlogged with orders, but if you don’t mind the wait, it’s worth it.”
“Thanks so much.” Vera smiled again. She was a very smiley girl. “It’s such a delight to work on… With… You, somebody who really understands things.”
Cassie smiled back. Vera wasn’t holding her attention. She was still deciding whether to really go through with it all. Now it was on her mind, she couldn’t think of anything else.
“You seem far away,” Vera said.
“Just wondering where this is headed.”
“Well, I’m really hyped about finishing this job,” Vera said. “I think you’re incredible to do it. I’m starting to think about trying it myself… Once I’ve seen how yours turns out.”
“Oh.” Cassie couldn’t think of an answer. Vera really was giving her an odd smile, and her answer was out of left field. As well as a corset, she wanted to try chastity. With who? She probably had a boyfriend with a cock full of stainless steel. It made sense.
Vera nodded quickly. “Really.”
“I can’t recommend it to you. I haven’t tried it myself yet,” Cassie said.
Vera came closer, hands still behind her back, like they’d been locked there. “Have you thought about getting a tattoo to go with the piercings? Or more than one? I think it would be a great look on you. You ought to do it.”
“Well, I don’t know.” Cassie could hardly refuse flat out, though that was her first instinct.
Vera leaned in close. “I’d do it for free. If you let me show pictures of the finished work. It wouldn’t cost you anything. I wouldn’t do it normally, I’ve got to make a living, but for you, I could make an exception.”
“That wasn’t what I was worrying about.”
“I think it’s something you need to do, to prove to your boyfriend that you’re serious. That you’re really committed.” Her voice was raised, suddenly full of passion. It made the pause even more obvious. Was she waiting for an answer? Cassie couldn’t think of anything. “Wait, I’m wrong. Forget about him. I know you’ve got the guts. Don’t you want to prove it to yourself?”
“I’m not sure. Besides, I can’t think of a design that I’d want.”
“No problem, I know what would be perfect for you.”
“If you show me, I guess I’ll think about it, maybe talk it over with Gabe.”
“You don’t need that Cassie. You need to be decisive, to act. Seize the moment. Don’t deny yourself because of him. He only thinks he’s in charge because you pretend he is. I’ve been working on a design. When you see it, I know you’ll want it.”
“Well, maybe if it’s something I really like, but I have to warn you, I’m kind of picky. It probably won’t be quite what I want.”
“We need to start right now, else he’ll talk you out of it.”
In a smooth but unexpected movement, Vera straddled her on the couch. She was surprisingly heavy given how skinny she looked. Her face was inches away, and her breath blew warm through the invisible fuzz of hairs on her face, it smelled of cinnamon.
“Come on Cassie. Don’t make me chain you down. I know you’ve been hoping for this all along. I’ve seen you looking at my other work. Don’t you want it?”
“Girls should be honest with each other. Tell me the truth or I’m going to get upset. You like my designs, don’t you? They fascinate you. I want to give you something. The best of me. It’s a win-win.”
Cassie moved to push Vera away, but she was holding her phone in one hand and didn’t want to drop it, and her body and thighs were strapped down to the couch. Fighting gravity and Vera, she lost. Vera kissed her, not hot and hard, but slow, soft and sweet, so feminine.
While Cassie was distracted, something snapped closed around her wrist. She tried to raise it, to push at Vera, but it came up short against the cold metal of a handcuff. Before she could protest her other wrist was locked to the couch too.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to do this? You didn’t even give me a chance to say yes.”
Vera broke the kiss and smiled down at her. That ever-present smile was so transparent now, the kind of adoration like a schoolgirl crush. “But now you can blame me. All my fault. Just lie there while I put some art on you.”
“Hey. Is this going to hurt too? Aren’t tattoos painful?”
“Sure, it’s going to hurt. Some girls cry from the pain, but I don’t think you will. You’ll love it. I am going to love it. And you’ll never be able to look at yourself in the mirror without thinking of me. So you see, I have to do it.”
Vera kissed her again, passionately this time, her hot tongue forcing its way between Cassie’s lips.
Cassie had suspected the story about how she needed to be strapped down to hold her still for the piercing was suspect. She hadn’t argued. In part, because she didn’t want to look completely clueless about how the whole piercing thing worked, largely because she always liked being restrained. If she’d known she’d end up Vera’s tongue in her mouth, would she have allowed it anyway?
Since Octavia, she’d reconsidered her total rejection of women. While they were squishy and yucky, and their looks would only make her envious, never turn her on, women knew what to do to make her feel things. She’d told herself, when you give up control, a woman may well end up in charge of you, whether you want it or not, so you may as well make the best of it.
“What the heck are you doing Vera? Please stop this. It’s not you.”
“Hush Cassandra darling. Or I’ll have to use the gag.”
“Oh, we’re both on the same page, aren’t we? I knew before I even saw that surgical-steel chastity cover. There’s no need to pretend. You can be honest with me, I don’t think you’re strange. I envy you. I wish our places were reversed. I wish it was you doing it to me.”
“Later, can you show me how good you are at cunni? Please… I’d return the favor, but you need to keep hygienic right now. Maybe another day. We can set a date if you want, put it in your calendar.”
“Good grief, this is ridiculous. Put it in my calendar? I can’t go anywhere without having sex these days. I feel like I’m in one of those lame stories that goes on for twenty episodes after it stopped being even remotely interesting.”
Vera smiled, just like before. “You’re so lucky. I’m always wishing that would happen to me.”
“Unlock me, maybe it can.”
“But seriously, you’ve got to be really honest now. I’m not forcing you am I? If you really want me to stop, I’ll stop. Just say one word. No means no, right?”
Cassie did her best impersonation of the Cheshire Cat’s grin, but without the disappearing part. “Vera, darling, you’re too sweet. You aren’t going to last long as the top in this relationship with an attitude like that.”
Vera nodded repeatedly. “I hope you’re right. That’s exactly what I’m hoping.”
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