“Don’t look, but I think that girl over there likes you. She keeps glancing over here, checking you out.”
I already knew who Tamlyn was talking about and I looked across the bar in the woman’s direction.
“What the hell, Ella? I said don’t look!” Tamlyn whispered with her hand cupped around her mouth.
Oops. Luckily, the woman was looking down through a collection of magazines or journals of some sort that were strewn haphazardly across the table of the booth she was occupying. She had a computer open and a stack of sticky notes. There was a wooden pencil that she placed in her mouth like a horse’s bit while she typed. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore thick plastic rimmed glasses. I thought that she was beautiful.
Tamlyn and I come for a drink every Tuesday after work. I had first noticed the studious beauty several weeks before when our eyes met and we both flinched realizing that we were staring at each other.
“No. I don’t think so,” I said, though I really wished she was and the smile that spread on my face gave away my true feelings.
“Oh!” Tamlyn said. “I see you’ve noticed her. You should go say ‘Hi’ or something.”
“No!” I said. “This is not the kind of bar that women go to to pick up other women. I can’t just walk up to her here.”
“For god’s sakes, Ella. Why not?”
I just made a face and took a sip from margarita.
Tamlyn made an exaggerated hurrumpfing noise. “Scaredy cat.”
I discreetly flicked her a bird.
“She IS very pretty.”
I waited until Tamlyn looked down in her drink before I stole another furtive glimpse at the woman in the booth. She was rapidly tapping on the keyboard of her laptop, a lock of hair had slipped across her face and rested against the end of the pencil secured between her teeth.
<--+-->
Three Tuesday’s later as we were walking in the bar Tamlyn suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the booth where the beautiful woman sat with her computer and journals.
“Hi,” Tamlyn said to the woman. Her fingers held my forearm tightly as though I were a child about to run into the street. “We see you here each week and we were wondering what you are working on.”
I’m pretty sure that I was flushed red - totally horrified by the sudden turn of events. I smiled stupidly.
The woman straightened up and looked at Tamlyn. “Hi!” she said, then looked at me and slouched a little behind her computer. “Hi!” she said again, her smile broadening a little to include her green eyes. “Well, I’m…” She pointed at the journals - some kind of academic papers - strewn around the table - psychology, I think. “I’m reviewing research about… about physical confinement.”
Her voice was like chocolate milk - soft and smooth.
I suddenly realized that Tamlyn had glanced at me to see if I was going to ask the next question. I was totally frozen.
“Yeah, so,” Tamlyn said. “We see you here each week and have been wondering. I suggested that you were writing a novel, but Ella, here…” Tamlyn was pointing at me… “suggested that you were a lawyer preparing to bring a case before the Supreme Court.”
“Hi,” I said finally. “I’m Ella.” As if that hadn’t already been made clear. “Yeah… I mean, No! I never said that… I mean, maybe you are preparing a case! Not that you’re not, or anything.” I was starting to perspire at this point.
The woman sat staring at me with her elbow resting on the table, her chin resting on her hand. “No. I work at the college.”
That would seem to have been an opening to a conversation, but I fumbled it. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“CeeCee,” she said.
The bar had become more noisy suddenly. “Did you say, CeeCee?” I asked. “Is it short for something?”
She looked down at the table for a second and seemed to grimace slightly - pressing her lips together tightly. Oh, god! I’m a fucking idiot. She probably goes by CeeCee because she hates her name. And now I was making her tell me this hated thing.
She looked up at me with her hand sort of covering her mouth. “Cecelia.”
Except, it didn’t really sound like “Cecelia”. She obviously was afflicted with a debilitating lisp, so, her name sounded like “Thethelia” when she said it. Now I really felt like crap. “Oh, I’ve always loved that name. Cecelia. It’s very pretty.”
“Thank you,” she said. She had dropped her hand, and I saw a flash of silver in her mouth. She had a tongue piercing - a thick stud topped by the largest ball I’d ever seen before. I mean, it was like a marble. No wonder she had a lisp.
<--+-->
The next Saturday I was at Tamlyn’s house eating lunch with her and her boyfriend, Brad.
“So, Ella is totally in love with this woman we see at the bar on Tuesday’s.” Tamlyn said to Brad out of nowhere.
“I am not in love!” I said, perhaps too emphatically.
“Sounds like you like her a lot,” Brad said.
“She is very pretty,” Tamlyn added.
“Give me a break. we don’t even know her,” I said. “Besides, she probably thinks I’m an idiot after this past week. Geez.”
“She seemed just as nervous as you,” Tamlyn said.
“Oh, great! So, it was THAT obvious that I’m socially retarded,” I grumbled.
“Did you see the size of that stud she had in her tongue?” Tamlyn asked.
“Yeah! I’ve been thinking about it all week,” I said.
“Wow! I bet! She does sound sexy,” Brad interjected. We ignored him.
“I mean, it totally affected her speech,” I said. “She couldn’t even pronounce her own name with that thing in her mouth. Why would she choose to wear it?”
Indeed, I had thought about her tongue stud all week long. I had often thought of getting one myself, but never as big as CeeCee’s. It was shocking. I felt a strange need to touch it.
<--+-->
The next Tuesday, she was in her normal booth, but I did no more than say, “Hi”. And we smiled, staring awkwardly at one another for a moment before I hastily retreated to my seat next to Tamlyn. “Oh, god! I’m a fucking loser,” I grumbled as I collapsed against the bar.
A week later, I was bitterly disappointed to see that she was not there. What if she never comes again? What if I never see her again? Have I let another chance at romance slip through my fingers?
About a half hour later she finally showed up carrying her huge book bag. The booth that she normally sat in was occupied.
“Hey! CeeCee! Come sit with us!” Tamlyn said.
She dropped her bag to the floor and collapsed into the seat next to me with a great sigh. “I’ve been running late all day,” she said. “How are you all doing tonight?”
As always, her straight brunette hair was pulled back in a pony tail which spilled around the hood of the sweatshirt that she was wearing. Her skin was smooth and her eyebrows were thick and expressive. I saw the flash of the tongue stud between her teeth.
“Great! And you?” I said, my heart beginning to race.
“I’ve got so much to do, but it will be nice to chill for a couple of minutes first. The professor that I am working for has some deadlines coming up this week.” Her voice made me shiver inside with a strange thrill. I wanted to hear more of her soft lisp.
“What did you say that you do?” I asked. “Something about studying solitary confinement?”
“Oh, no! Well…” she started. “Yes, I was. I work for a professor who has a grant from NASA to study the effects of isolation on long space voyages. I’m trying to find documentation wherever I can about the effects of living in isolation - prisoners, abductees, slaves, submissive BDSM practitioners, the Poor Clares etc. There are a number of things that we are trying to determine. What is the ideal number of crew members? What is the ideal gender makeup? What personality types do you need?”
“Cool! So, what makes up an ideal crew?” I asked.
“Well, it all depends on the personality types, actually…” She carried on with some details of her research, talking about Myers-Briggs and other stuff. It was incredibly interesting, but I sort of accidentally got lost in watching her face move as she talked about her research. She was enthusiastic and passionate. I watched the way her lips moved as she said various words and how her sparkling green eyes would look up as she explained a concept or theory. She was beautiful and smart. I was feeling wonderfully giddy.
After a while, I realized that Tamlyn had left to talk to some other friends, leaving me alone with CeeCee. The two of us began to talk about where we were from and our families and past pets and movies that we liked. And…
“Oh, shit!” she said suddenly. “I’ve really got to do some work tonight or I’ll be in big trouble.”
I frowned, but said, “Oh yeah. I’m sorry. I should leave you alone.”
“Wait! Ella!” she said as I got up. “I’ll see you next week, though. Right?”
Oh, hell yeah!
<--+-->
On Wednesday night, Tamlyn bade me to come over for dinner and give her the low-down on how everything went the night before.
“Yeah… She is awesome…” I said. “I think that I really like her…”
“But…” Tamlyn prompted. “I know that there must be a ‘but…’ by the tone in your voice.”
“Maybe she’s not… Maybe I’m misreading her signals… You know? Maybe she’s not gay,” I said pushing a few peas randomly about my plate. “What if I put myself out there and tell her how I feel and she’s not interested.” I looked up sadly at Tamlyn. “It’s happened before.”
“Oh, come on, lover-girl.” Tamlyn placed her arm around me and pulled me close to kiss me on the cheek. “She is so totally interested in you. I’m looking out for you. You’re awesome. She’s awesome. Everything will be great! Don’t worry.”
“Yeah, just kiss the girl,” Brad said. “Take charge! Step up there. Take the bull by the horns! Kiss her. Girls love that.”
Tamlyn looked over at Brad. “Oh, great.” Then she deepened her voice and began waving her fist around. “Take the bull by the horns! Give it the old college try, m’boy! Step up there, duuude! Brad is ready to mansplain everything there is to know about women.”
I started to giggle a little. Even Brad had a smirk on his face. We both knew that Tamlyn was just getting started.
Sure enough, she continued: “Don’t you think that Ella, who happens to be a member of the gender commonly referred to as ‘Female’, just possibly might have insight into things that other members of the female gender might find attractive? Wait! No! It’s not valid unless The Man says it is! Please vindicate our worthless existence. Brad!”
Brad looked at me and said, “Tamlyn gets this shit all the time at work. I have to poke her every once in awhile - sort of as a release valve. Every time she feels safe enough to unload on me, I know that she really loves me.”
“Oh,” Tamlyn said smiling. “Yeah. I do love you. Hmm… Ella, just kiss the girl.”
<--+-->
The next Tuesday, CeeCee and I talked for two hours. We even flirted a little and giggled. Still, all I heard in my head all night was “Kiss the girl! Kiss the girl!”
So… I’m a loser.
At the end of the night she gave me her phone number and when we stood up to say goodbye, I moved in for a hug. She kind of turned a little to the side at the last second, so it was kind of a side hug - a little awkward perhaps.
I lay in bed awake for hours that night cursing myself. “Fuck!” My insides were writhing with twisted bundles of emotions - everything from utter elation to self hatred to lust and desire to loneliness - warring in my stomach and chest. “Fuck!” And in my head, all I could hear was that freaking song… “Making love in the afternoon with Cecelia up in my bedroom…”
Fuck!
I dreamt of the starlight sparkling off her tongue stud as she read excerpts from “The Compleat Angler” with her quiet mesmerizing lisp while we sailed through the void in a spaceship so small we had no option but to touch one another at all times. Isolated together. The ideal crew on an adventure like no other.
All week long I thought of her voice which I could not even imagine without her piercing and lisp. These beacons called to me at all times. Distracting me. Making me smile.
<--+-->
On Saturday I was at a bagel place purchasing my breakfast when I heard CeeCee call to me. She was already sitting at a table and invited me to join her, which is good because the place was packed. We ate and talked and before I realized it, the breakfast crowd had gone.
“Hey! Do you want to see a matinee?” she asked.
“Uh! Sure!” Hell yeah! Although I acted like I had to check my “busy” schedule first.
When we sat at the movie, I realized that the armrest between the seats was raised. Neither of us made any effort to lower it. Not ten minutes into the movie I felt her hand slip into my palm. And before long, I lifted my arm up and she nestled in beside me snuggling.
It was a movie starring Amy Schumer and Jennifer Lawrence and it must have been fucking hilarious because everyone around us was laughing loudly and often. I don’t remember it at all. I only felt the places where her body touched mine and the electricity that seemed to accompany that touch. I glanced at her furtively every once in awhile to see if she was enjoying the movie as though it was my responsibility. Once she caught me sneaking a look and smiled broadly at me and wiggled her body a little closer.
Afterwards we stopped at a grocery store and bought spaghetti noodles and a bottle of red wine and then went to her house.
“Wow! Is this all yours?” I asked we walked in.
“No, I rent this from Dr. Markov,” she said.
“The professor you work for?” I asked and she nodded affirmatively. “Wow! He’s kind of full service, isn’t he? Job, house…”
“Not he. She,” CeeCee said. “Her name is Anjelica.”
“Oh, god! Listen to how society has indoctrinated me. Of course! SHE is full service, I mean.” I kind of felt jealous, maybe, a little.
CeeCee turned on some music while we cooked and danced barefoot and threw spaghetti noodles at the wall to see if they would stick - laughing and cheering when they did. When the food was ready we turned off the stove and the song we were dancing to ended. We were breathless and suddenly found ourselves looking at each other, smiling. I heard those three words in my head louder than ever: “Kiss the girl!”
Suddenly, CeeCee looked down at the floor. “Ella, I have to tell you something.”
I didn’t give her a chance though. I stepped forward, cupped her chin in my palm, and pressed my lips to hers. I guess that I surprised her, because at first I was afraid that she would step away. But after a moment, instead, she stepped into the kiss, her lips pressing a little more firmly against mine - a certain urgency in their smooth, warm, wet caress. I moved my hand to cradle her head and kissed her harder as well with a renewed vigor spurred on by growing confidence. We both opened our mouths and my tongue slipped between her teeth, tangling with her tongue. My knees began to go weak as I felt my tongue slide over the smooth surface of the steel ball anchored on top of her tongue. Her tongue piercing - that modification that made her who she was - that made her so unique.
I stepped a little closer to press my body against hers. But when my hand began to slide down her neck towards her back, I heard a strange series of clicks that seemed to emanate from CeeCee’s mouth. Her tongue suddenly stopped exploring mine and, to my horror, CeeCee quickly pulled away from me.
“Oh, hhhyyt!” she said breathlessly and placed her palm to her mouth.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
CeeCee made a series of unintelligible sounds and turned. She took a step away from me.
“What’s going on!?” I was starting to freak out. I thought perhaps she was having a seizure or something.
“Uhnmm ii eee,” she groaned and grabbed my arm, pulling me along behind her. We were halfway down a hall when she suddenly fell to her knees with a loud grunt. She had both hands over her mouth. She head was shaking and tears began to slide down her face.
“How can I help you!? Should I call 911?” I pulled out my phone. CeeCee seemed to recover a little and she shook her head and batted my phone out of my hand. She stood and began to drag me down the hall again. We came to a door which lead down a series of stairs into the cellar. When we were halfway down she let go of my arm and jumped down the remaining steps in obvious distress.
I ran after her. She knelt on the floor next to a large machine and opened a small hatch in the side, grunting in pain as she did - for, certainly, she seemed to be in great pain. She reached in the hatch and pulled out something that looked like an athletic mouth guard, but it was thick and huge. Some kind of steel cable snaking out of the recess in the machine was attached to the end of the mouth guard. CeeCee opened her mouth really wide and began to wedge the thing between her teeth, her tongue pushing into a cavity with a metallic click. Finally her teeth slipped into grooves around the periphery.
CeeCee seemed to almost go boneless with relief as her mouth closed tightly around the mouth guard. And though tears were still streaming from her eyes, she no longer seemed to be in pain, kneeling on the carpet beside the strange machine.
She took a deep breath through her nose and then looked up at me with sad eyes - the steel cable spilling from between her lips and looping into the machine.
I stood looking at her in horror. “Are you OK? I’m so sorry! Can I help you somehow? Is this all because I… because I kissed you?”
She shook her head in an emphatic manner, telling me “No”. Then she started to look around and tried to rise a bit from her kneeling position, but suddenly the steel cable straightened out to its greatest length and snapped, causing her to wince slightly and drop back firmly on her knees.
She made a gesture as though she were writing on a tablet or pad and pointed over to a desk about ten feet away. I got up and looked through a couple of drawers until I found a pen and paper and brought them back to her.
“What is going on?” I asked as I gave her the pen. “Were you having a seizure?”
She shook her head and wrote on the paper. “Please stay!”
“Don’t worry! I won’t leave you like this. I’m just not sure what is going on?” I said.
She started to write again, but suddenly the machine made a loud beep and a voice came over a speaker. It sounded like someone talking in a cell phone while in a car. “On my way, CeeCee. I’ll be there in about five to ten minutes.” There was another beep, then silence.
A screen flickered on near the top of the machine and I could see a display of a map of the area. A dot, which I assume was the person on the phone, was flashing and making its way along a street which I recognized as being in the college district. There was also an X on the map that seemed to indicate CeeCee’s house.
“Who is that?” I asked pointing at the map.
“Professor Markov,” CeeCee wrote.
“She’s coming here?” I asked. I was so confused and had so many questions that I didn’t even know what to ask. My heart was pounding from adrenaline. I slowly sank to the floor next to CeeCee. Randomly staring at all the equipment that seemed to be filling the basement room in which we sat.
CeeCee took my hand in hers and held it in her lap. I looked at her and smiled nervously. She seemed to be trying to read my expression. I’m sure she was unsuccessful. I was so confused that I have no idea what kind of expression I could possibly have produced.
CeeCee dropped my hand and grabbed the piece of paper again and wrote “I” but then seemed to twiddle the pen around as though considering what she wanted to say. After a few seconds she continued. “I’m really happy that you kissed me.” She gripped my hand again.
I looked into her eyes when she looked up at me. I nodded and smiled. Her eyes were so pretty and bright. But as I looked lower. I think that my smile must have faded a bit - seeing the steel cable anchored between her lips. She suddenly looked down into her lap. Her grip on my hand loosened a little. She closed her eyes.
“Hey, CeeCee,” I said, grabbing her hand. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that. I’m just kind of in shock at the moment. I’m just… I…” A tear rolled down her cheek which she quickly wiped away.
“What are all these machines? Are you sick?” I asked. I was thinking that perhaps she had a respiratory disease of some sort - maybe the cable was a conduit for medicine.
She turned her head away from me and her back shook with a sob. I reached out to put my hand on her back but the second I touched her she flinched and I drew my hand back afraid that I would cause her more pain.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” I asked.
She opened her eyes. They were puffy and sad. She shook her head.
I reached out my hand again and placed it on her back and began rubbing up and down, comforting her, I hoped. As I did, I began to notice that there was a particularly hard lump on her back - a ridge of some sort - right where I would expect her bra strap to be - but totally lacking the flexibility of fabric.
CeeCee suddenly looked up at the screen with the map display. I looked up as well, remembering that we were waiting for her professor. The dot seemed to have arrived at CeeCee’s house. Indeed, I heard a door opening and closing upstairs. Footsteps seemed to linger for a moment in the kitchen before moving down the hall. Shortly I heard the steps coming down the stairs into the basement.
Dr Markov was tall and thin. She wore black from head to toe - form fitting clothes. She seemed very serious. She looked at me for only a second before stepping over to the desk from which I had scavenged for a pen and clicked on an LCD monitor. She began typing on a keyboard rapidly with an unsettling cadence. She seemed impatient.
I jumped suddenly as the machine to which CeeCee was connected began to hum.
“CeeCee is going to be OK?” I asked.
Dr. Markov made a grunting sound that felt very dismissive and continued tapping away. I decided to just wait and see what would happen. CeeCee seemed a little withdrawn, perhaps afraid. I gently pulled one of her hands into mine. She continued to stare fixedly on the point where her steel tether disappeared into the machine.
“I need your name and birthdate, please,” Dr Markov said, never taking her eyes from the screen. I decided that she was talking to me.
“Ella Hayes,” I said and gave her my birthdate. She typed as I talked, finally pounding the return key. She then waited. I could see light from the screen flicker in her eyes as information rapidly scrolled by.
“From Jeffery City?” she asked.
“Well, I was raised there, at least.”
“OK,” she said and began alternating between typing and reading.
I looked back at CeeCee. She was mainly motionless, despondent.
“I should proceed?” Dr. Markov asked suddenly, finally looking over at CeeCee, who looked at me briefly then back at Dr. Markov. Finally, she gave the briefest hint of a nod.
“OK… linking…” Dr. Markov said returning to her screen. “And done!”
Dr. Markov then spun from the table and looked directly at me. “Did you kiss CeeCee?” she asked me.
I suddenly felt like a child with her hand in the candy jar. “Uh… Yeah…”
“Was it consensual?” she asked.
Suddenly, I was very nervous. Was it consensual? I kind of did it out of nowhere. I don’t think that she was expecting it, but…
“Well, CeeCee? Was it consensual?” Dr. Markov asked, seemingly frustrated with my hesitation. I looked at CeeCee holding my breath.
CeeCee shyly nodded and I felt my breath burst from my lungs in relief.
“Are you enamored by CeeCee, Miss Hayes?” Dr. Markov asked.
“Uh… Yes!” I said. “Yes!”
The professor stared at me as though trying to read my soul. Finally she said, “Well, you better be…”
Finally, Dr. Markov turned back to the screen. “So, this is how this is going to work, Miss Hayes. You will need to call your employer - The Round Mountain Times, I believe - tell them that you will be out of the office until Wednesday, at the earliest, perhaps Thursday. You will need to take care of CeeCee.”
“Oh! OK! I’ll do anything I can to help her,” I said automatically. I was still a bit stunned.
Dr. Markov didn’t really seem to listen to me. “CeeCee’s mouthpiece will disengage in about forty-two minutes. But, her inter-muscular framework, the structure buried in her tongue, will remain rigid for the next 72 hours, so she won’t be able to say anything intelligibly. However, at least you can still kiss.”
CeeCee was looking at me in a sheepish manner.
“And, kiss her, you should,” Dr. Markov continued, not even looking at us. “After these first three days, each kiss will result in thirty minutes of framework rigidity and punitively assured silence. But, heed these instructions well, Miss Hayes. You must kiss her at least once a day - measured from midnight to midnight. Otherwise, CeeCee will have to endure punitive events until either your kiss has been registered, or three weeks have passed. Extremely painful, I’ve heard.”
Dr. Markov tapped on the keyboard a few more times, then stood up.
“You must be together for three months from today, Miss Hayes, and then you will be given some options to proceed with a relationship with my bondmaid, perhaps even engaging in a greater degree of physical intimacy.” Dr. Markov’s eyes traveled down to CeeCee’s breasts before looking back in my eyes. “Or to terminate.”
“Cecelia, dear,” Dr. Markov said. “Remember! If any foreign human DNA other than Miss Hayes’ is detected in your mouth in the next year - Well… You know what will happen!”
CeeCee slowly nodded her head, perhaps shivering a little.
“You can take the next week off, CeeCee. That should give you time to fill in the details of your constraints and requirements to your poor friend, here. I expect you at the office on time next Monday, though, with a full summary and psychological profile of the Caged Queen of Aldabra that you have been working on.”
Dr. Markov stood up abruptly, apparently preparing to leave. “Oh, one more thing. There are wet spaghetti noodles on my kitchen wall. Please clean them off before they discolor the paint!”
And with that Dr. Markov swept from the room, leaving CeeCee and I kneeling on the floor waiting for the machine to release her tongue. I listened to footsteps go up the stairs and then through the house. Finally, I heard the front door open and close. I felt myself relax a bit suddenly and looked at CeeCee who glanced briefly at me before looking up at the screen which now contained a clock counting down to the moment when the mouthguard would unlock and allow CeeCee to get off the floor - 37 minutes.
What the hell just happened?
I looked at CeeCee again. Despite her puffy red eyes and distraught look, she was still very pretty to me. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to talk to her. But, at the moment, I also felt ungrounded in everything that had happened. I grabbed hold of her hand and held it tightly. I wanted her to know that I wanted to be here. I wanted to say that to her, but I couldn’t think of the words to use. So, the two of us simply glanced back and forth between each other and the clock slowly ticking the seconds away.
I felt my hands trembling and I was feeling queasy inside. I think the adrenaline of everything that had happened since I kissed CeeCee was starting to wear off. I glanced at the clock. Thirty-three and a half more minutes. I couldn’t sit still anymore.
“I’ll go clean up the spaghetti noodles while we’re waiting,” I said as I slowly rose on shaky legs.
CeeCee nodded her head and looked back down at her tether.
I went upstairs and began absentmindedly cleaning the kitchen. What is going on here? I was still trembling. I was trying to piece together everything that had happened, everything that Dr. Markov had said. It all seemed so dreamlike. I also realized that I was starting to get angry.
This is not normal. So, somehow that thing in CeeCee’s mouth can detect who is kissing her and then react in a “punitive” manner if the person is not approved. How can Dr. Markov make CeeCee wear something like that? CeeCee… I really, really like CeeCee. I meant to kiss her. I want to be with her. I found myself feeling possessive even. Maybe CeeCee needs an advocate. CeeCee is a grand possibility - like nothing I have ever had before. I will stay with her! I want her to be part of my life. Fuck Dr. Markov!
I found myself pacing aimlessly around the kitchen. Powered by my resoluteness and determination. Wait a second now...
How can something like this even be legal? Certainly, CeeCee could simply ask Dr. Markov to end this… this… this game they are playing.
Wait! This MUST be just a game! Of course!
CeeCee must have chosen to play this role for the professor. Certainly, she can ask to end the game if she wants. If CeeCee didn’t want this, she could just go to the police, couldn’t she?
Suddenly, I also remembered that hard ridge on her back where her bra strap should be. This must be some kind of elaborate bondage thing. A chastity thing. A power exchange thing. Dr. Markov is in control of CeeCee’s body.
She must be wearing a steel bra or something.
I have bondage fantasies. I have read stories. I have seen pictures of women wearing chastity devices - like shiny, chrome two piece swimsuits with high-cut bottoms, ominous padlocks and straps of chain. I’ve never engaged in bondage for real. Could hard steel ever be as good as the fantasy? Well… I think that I could try to find out… I felt a surge of arousal, thinking of the hard steel wrapped around CeeCee. Locked. I felt a quivering in my stomach.
I went back down the stairs and found CeeCee lying on her side - the sturdy cable still angling up from her lips into the belly of the machine. The clock was down to just over seven minutes until the mouth guard would unlock. Based on what Dr. Markov had said, she still apparently wouldn’t be able to talk, but maybe she would be willing to show me…
I lay down behind her. I slipped my arm under her head, so she could use it as a pillow. I pulled her body in close to me feeling the swell of her buttocks pressing into my hips. I pulled the hair back from her face and kissed her gently on the cheek by her ear. I slowly let my hand slide down her side wondering, perhaps, if CeeCee wore a chastity belt. Suddenly CeeCee reached back and grabbed my wandering hand, folding her arm around mine, pressing my hand into the center of her chest, my knuckles coming to rest against some hard surface covering her breast. We lay silently, perhaps a little tensely. Waiting...
Four more minutes...
I noticed a solitary tear slip down CeeCee’s cheek.
I couldn’t take it any longer. “It’s just a game… a bondage game… right?” I asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
CeeCee looked back at me, trembling just a little, perhaps.
“Right?” I asked again. “Right?”
More stories by hollow well at: http://keysong.blogspot.com/p/key-thread-view.html
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03.12.15
story continues in Kiss the Girl 2
o0o