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Gasping, dripping, Vi ground herself into Caitlyn’s calf, a harsh exhalation escaping her. Vi wore nothing but her tattoos and her restraints; her hands were cuffed behind her back, little bells jingling from the clamps on her nipples, swaying back and forth with her long, gliding movements. Caitlyn laid back on the bed, legs spread, scrolling through her phone with one hand, a dangling contraption - the hated contraption - from her fingertips. Vi watched the way it swayed back and forth, leather and large enough to secure around her hips, lock around her crotch, keep her sealed away.
At the crux of it was a silver lock.
“Two minute warning, slut,” Caitlyn called, boredom seeping into her tone. Vi let out a wet whimper, the trail she was leaving up and down Caitlyn’s smooth thigh catching the bedroom light as her head ducked, a keening little wail escaping her as she worked herself back and forth, back and forth, from ankle to knee, grinding down on the smooth skin as best as she could. She let out a long, guttural groan as she worked herself, pushed herself, a little more, a little more, a little more .”
“Time,” Caitlyn said, and a droning sound on her phone sunk Vi’s stomach. Her hips twitched forwards, stuttered, her eyes snapping to Caitlyn’s as she held herself on Cait’s calf, desperate to keep going, keep going , finally find the release that had been kept from her for so long.
Caitlyn quirked an eyebrow, and Vi flushed, shuffling herself off of Caitlyn’s calf to bounce across the bed - nipples jingling the whole way - until she was standing with her legs slightly spread beside the bed, back straight, neck preened.
Caitlyn tossed her phone to the side, slid across the bed, and dropped the contraption onto the floor, gesturing Vi to step into it - one leg, then the next - and slowly, tauntingly, slid it up Vi’s legs until it fit over her like a pair of thick panties. Wordlessly, Caitlyn slipped a slim silver key from the pocket of her robe, slid it into the lock, and clicked it shut.
“What do we say?” Caitlyn asked, primly.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Vi uttered, tongue thick with desire as Caitlyn chuckled, running her hands carelessly, roughly over Vi’s face, spreading her lips to see her teeth, sliding thumbs across her eyebrows, hooking them in Vi’s hair and gripping so she could tilt her head left and right, controlling even where Vi looked. Vi floated, brain filling with a pleasant static, giving herself over to Caitlyn’s ministrations as Caitlyn pushed her deeper and deeper into a pleasant, thoughtless state.
“Good girl,” Caitlyn whispered, and Vi fidgeted with pleasure.
They’d gotten here through many discussions, contemplations, admissions in the dark through guttural groans and panting promises that were dissected in the light of day, talked through, questioned. Vi had known that Caitlyn had dominant tendencies when they’d started dating, though had always anticipated it would take on a more pillow-princess quality - letting her partner do all the work and worship her. Vi had quickly learned that Caitlyn’s meticulous mind, raw intelligence, and the quiet attention she paid to any and all situations led her to being the most infuriating, clever, and sadistic Dom, putting Vi through her paces and ruthlessly taking her through each and every one of her most secret fantasies.
It was a complicated thing, to explain that not only did you like being teased, you’d like to explore not being able to come at all.
“You’d want that?” Caitlyn had asked, flat curiosity with no judgement in her voice. Still, Vi twisted under her gaze. Her collarbones were still raw from the way Caitlyn had bit into her skin and held her still as she’d panted don’t let me cum, don’t let me cum into Caitlyn’s hair, the session ending with Caitlyn letting Vi dangle on the edge, hips bucking, constantly seeking more and harder only to have Caitlyn press on her pelvic bone and smirk at her through her teeth’s grip on her skin.
“I’ve - yeah, it’s been- I want to belong to you,” Vi exhaled, breathlessly, “everything that I am. That includes-”
“-Orgasms?”
“Everything,” Vi breathed, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I want to be made to serve, you know?”
“So, you’d want - what, chastity?”
Vi nodded. “Um- tasks, yeah. Services for you. I’d like to try it - if, you know. If it’s something you’d-”
Caitlyn met her lips fiercely, so fiercely that their teeth clacked against one another, made Vi let out a muffled mmph of pleased surprise. “God,” Caitlyn moaned, “that’d be so sexy.”
They’d worked their way to this moment. Through weekends of wearing a collar and not being allowed to touch her constantly moist cunt, evenings spent slowly dragging an index finger through her slickened folds while Caitlyn spooned behind her and whispered filthy things in her ear - nasty things that had her hips bucking against her own hand’s tantalisingly slow pace.
About how she was so wet, Caitlyn could hear her.
About how good she was for her Mistress .
About how controlled she was .
“Thank you, ma’am,” Vi would groan out, after every time Caitlyn would tell her to stop, after every time the heady pleasure filled her body and retreated, waves retreating back to the ocean before they’d reached the sandy shore.
“Good girl,” Caitlyn would reply.
The longest they’d gone before now was two days over a weekend, when Vi would spend the day on a collar and leash, being escorted around their two bedroom apartment, constantly sitting at Caitlyn’s feet. When Caitlyn needed her, she would pull at Vi’s collar with a twisted fist in her leash, drag Vi’s head between her skirted, underwear-less legs and indicate for her to begin eating her - when she was on the couch, when she was at the kitchen table, when she was sitting at her computer writing reports for Monday.
Once, she forced Vi to her knees in front of their front door, and with two hands in Vi’s hair, dragged her face, tongue out, up and down her pussy, smearing Vi with saliva and Caitlyn, forcing Vi to smell Caitlyn every time she took a breath and taste her when she licked her lips.
For her part, Vi spent the entire two days in a haze of constant static-brained pleasure, following after Caitlyn like a lost pup, thoughtless and happy. Every order she was given she rushed to obey - kneel, sit, stay, good girl . She was ordered to ‘present’, and she would rush to obey - her hands behind her head, legs spread wide, tongue out and flat against her chin as she watched Caitlyn through narrowed slits of icy blue.
Caitlyn would grab her tongue, lift it up, let it fall back and pat her cheek.
“Good slut,” Caitlyn would say, gathering Vi’s leash and walking to the bedroom.
Sometimes, during the two days, Caitlyn would ride Vi’s face. Sometimes she’d apply clamps to her nipples and tap on the sides of her breasts with her hands, making her tits bob up and down and jingle as Vi twitched and gasped, flushed bright red, eyes zeroed in on Caitlyn’s wrists. Sometimes Caitlyn would tie Vi to each post of their bed, spread her out wide, and slowly apply and remove a vibrator in little three second bursts that made Vi make noises she’d never heard from herself before - little shivery cries and gasps that burst from her alongside puffs of air, harmonised with Caitlyn’s low, easy chuckle that made her clench around nothing. Caitlyn whispered into her ear that she may never cum again, that she may keep her just like this , on the edge of exploding, constantly dripping for her.
“You’re so good when you want to cum, puppy,” Caitlyn whispered, taking Vi’s ear in her teeth and tugging as Vi made a needy whine in the back of her throat, “I love how well behaved you are.”
The weekend ended with fireworks, with Caitlyn lashing her legs closed with silk rope, a vibrating toy pushed into Vi’s pussy, a nub on the outside gently resting against her clit. Caitlyn turned it to medium, pressed her lips to Vi’s over and over and over as Vi squirmed, wiggled, and came apart underneath her, sobbing into Caitlyn’s mouth, little gasps of please and ma’am and thank you that Caitlyn swallowed, licked from Vi’s lips, kissed from her breath. Vi’s constant state of floating was pulled down and smashed into reality; the orgasms didn’t stop, couldn’t stop until Caitlyn was finished.
Caitlyn made her come, and come, and come around the toy until Vi was begging for it to stop , begging for Caitlyn to let her rest, until Vi’s throat was so hoarse and broken that she could barely wheeze the pleading out. Only then did Caitlyn unwrap her, whispering red against Vi’s temple as she applied a small dollop of lubricant and gently pulled the toy free.
Caitlyn fed Vi crackers from a position above her, Vi’s body totally swaddled in blankets, propped on four pillows. She lowered a straw for Vi to drink from, turned the TV in their bedroom to a mindless sitcom that Vi loved rewatching every sixteen months, and cuddled her, kissed her face, whispered how much she loved her.
“So that was a lot of fun,” Vi said a week later, leaning on the kitchen counter, “but I can’t stop thinking about taking it further.”
Caitlyn arched a brow. “Further? How do you mean?”
“Dunno, like,” Vi said, “have you um, ever heard of chastity?”
Caitlyn frowned, slowly lowering her newspaper - god, she was cute, still reading a physical newspaper - and raising both eyebrows. “You’d want to do that?”
“I like how it feels,” Vi said, curling her fingers against the kitchen countertop as Caitlyn folded her newspaper primly and rose to stand in front of her, slowly sliding her hands around Vi’s waist, “um, being - it feels like I’m floaty, just lost in this like… cloud of need. And you’re all I can see and it’s - it feels nice.”
“Silences the thoughts?”
“Yeah,” Vi sighes, nodding as Caitlyn stepped a little closer, curling her fingers around Vi’s hips, “yeah, exactly.”
Caitlyn smiled a little, pressing her forehead to Vi’s, eyes sliding shut.
“Alright then,” she said.
The chastity belt arrived the following Tuesday. It was a leather and metal thing, with a little opening she could access to use the bathroom throughout the day. Holding it made her excited beyond rationale, turning it over and over in her palms, listening to the buckles clink and shift against the leather.
They began on Wednesday.
Wednesday morning, Vi edged five times before being locked away, each time getting shorter and shorter, sweating beneath her blankets, her eyes closed and replaying the things Caitlyn’s done to her, the things Caitlyn will do to her, over and over in her mind. When she hit the fifth, she whispered thank you, ma’am into Caitlyn’s hair, met Caitlyn’s sleepy smile and quiet kiss, a murmured good girl against her lips that lingered throughout her day.
Wearing the belt - after showering and preparing for it - was a constant reminder of who she belonged to, a secret that only she knew with every shift of her hips brought with it a little tug of awareness that she was kept and owned.
Wednesday night, Vi was instructed to press her face deep into Caitlyn’s pussy as Caitlyn watched the news, her tongue pressing up and into her, a slow and rhythmic fucking at the mercy of Caitlyn’s hands on Vi’s hair. Vi’s hips bucked in time with the steady movements, seeking friction and finding one. Instead, she was rewarded for her efforts by Caitlyn pressing her so hard into her pussy that Vi worried her jaw would give way, Caitlyn shuddering, gasping, and filling Vi’s mouth with a sudden gush .
Vi was rewarded by riding Caitlyn’s thigh, belt still intact. She couldn’t feel anything through it, and Caitlyn told her to make noises as if she could, taunting her with how good she must feeling, and did she like it when Caitlyn fucked her just like that?
When Vi went to sleep Wednesday night, she was deep in the brain static, tingly, floaty. Caitlyn cuddled her side, and she felt her pussy throb with each of Caitlyn’s heartbeats, and Vi could see the poetry in that.
In the morning, Vi edged five times again - the fifth was a close thing, her hand wanting to continue its ministrations, just to feel the plummet off of the edge. She managed to resist, held onto her blankets with both hands, hips bucking in tiny little movements, head foggy and full of Caitlyn and full of her own empty, clenching core.
Caitlyn woke up soon after to run her hands over her breasts while she groaned, her hips seeking something, anything, that wasn’t to arrive. Caitlyn whispered instructions to Vi for her to turn around, spread her hand out so Caitlyn could ride it, whispering how poor little Vi couldn’t come yet, how good her thick fingers felt tucked deep into her slick cunt.
“Fuck me like you wish you were fucked, edge slut,” Caitlyn groaned out, and Vi swallowed, and obeyed.
Fucking Vi’s face on the couch became a daily thing, Caitlyn using her hair as a handle, controlling the speed and tempo. Edging Vi nightly became a thing, too - with a wand and her voice, driving her to squirm and buck on the sheets, approaching a peak that would never come. Vi remained in that floaty headspace, quietly serving, waiting on Caitlyn hand and foot while Caitlyn teased her, controlled her, kept her in the palm of her hand.
It was a game, to keep Vi needy and dripping and subservient, at Caitlyn's heel, between her knees, acting in a manner appropriate to her status beneath Caitlyn.
A game they were both winning, the sparks between them flying bright and quick, electric, beautiful.
Perfect.