Tara’s Game

It had been a long time since Cinder had met someone so cute. She felt so lucky.

So far, the hellhound’s business trip had felt like a complete waste. Frustratingly so. She’d been sent over here, to a country she didn’t know, a hotel she’d never have booked for herself. It wasn’t that Cindy was a snob — but what she was was a girl who got what she wanted, when she wanted it. She was a successful and formidable businesswoman.

The meeting she’d come for, however, hadn’t gone well. I mean, how could it have? Attempting to advertise products that had no market in a country with no monsters or widespread magical education like hers — she’d done her best, but she’d seen in the eyes of the people across the table that they knew what Cinder wanted them to sell wouldn’t make them any money. And so she’d, quite reluctantly, thanked them for their time, and come back to the hotel bar — intending to nurse the wounds of her pride, and drown her sorrows.

That’s when they’d met. Her, and this petite little angel girl who’d brought her back up to her room. Tara. Her cute, modest little outfit. Her jewellery, the ornate keys on the pretty little necklace she’d play with when she was embarrassed by the hellhound’s lewd remarks.

Cinder had never been particularly interested in men. They smelled bad and expected too little. They didn’t try to improve themselves, and, more importantly, aroused Cinder nowhere near as much as girls did. She’d never date a hellhound like herself, though. No. Most of her species weren’t even in a discipline that brought them into her social class, and besides that — Cinder wanted someone she could dominate. Someone small, and soft, and naive, and defenceless, that she could play with and cuddle. That was Cinder’s type. Her kryptonite. Someone who was the opposite of her in almost any way.

An angel girl was perfect.

“I’ve, um, never done this before…” Tara murmured softly in her ear as Cinder carried her through the door.

“It’s okay.” Cinder smiled. “I’ll show you everything. How old are you? You look like you haven’t been in business for as long as me-”

“Three hundred and two a week ago,” The angel said quickly.

“What?” The hellhound gasped, laughing a little. “And you’re still a virgin?! You look so young. Oh, my,” She gently sat the angel down on the bed, beginning to loosen her clothes. “We have to get you caught up on the programme, here. What on earth have you been doing-”

“W-Well I’ve been very busy-” The angel stammered, pausing as Cinder hungrily removed her top, revealing her pert little breasts. “And there’s something else. O-Oh, I’m a little cold… Haah…”

Cinder had paused, sitting herself behind the angel to sample and pinch at the breasts. “Is that good?” She asked, skilfully playing with Tara and making the angel pant a little.

“That’s so good…” Tara sighed. “B-But listen, I need to tell you something-”

“Let’s see what you think of this first,” Cinder whispered, her paw sliding down, past the angel’s high-fitting skirt. She reached for the area between Tara’s legs, her fingers moving along the angel’s skin. All of a sudden, however, her fingers found something she hadn’t expected to be there.

Warm, hard metal.

“U-Um…” She said, another paw slipping down under the back of the angel’s skirt to poke at the thing seated on the angel’s hips.

“Um!” The angel responded, her face slowly becoming flushed as Cinder pulled the skirt’s elastic rim down into her lap, revealing her well-kept secret.

“W-What?” The hellhound stammered, staring at the thick, seamless metal underwear Tara wore. “W-What’s-”

“It’s my, um, my chastity belt.” Tara explained quickly. “It’s, it keeps me safe-”

“You wear this?” The hellhound cooed. “It’s so cute!”

Her paws ran over it a little, admiring the fit as the angel only blushed more, covering her eyes. But her companion wasn’t upset. Her face lit up a little, then, adorned with a mixture of pride and nervous excitement as she watched the hellhound push and tilt at the waistband, noticing how impossible it was to fit a finger underneath the belt, or slip it down her body. As she stood up, pulled quickly to her feet by the hellhound’s deft paws, Cinder turned her around, admiring it from all angles.

It really was a work of art. Cinder had had some fairly kinky partners, she had an idea what a chastity belt was. But this was like no chastity belt she’d ever seen. It was thick, built from what seemed like hundreds of thin, artfully cut and folded layers of gently telescoping metal, shaped around the angel’s little body into particularly tight fitting pair of steely little spats. Aside from the waistband, which squeezed roughly at the angel’s skin, the metal contraption had round little sleeves for her legs, ending in two bands which fitted equally firmly in place, permitting not a fingernail to pass up. The area between Tara’s legs — the area that this shimmering, gleaming fortress of polished golden-silver metal was there to protect in the first place — was therefore so deeply protected, so jealously and utterly secured, that Cinder could not conceive of a single way she might ever reach it. She tugged and pulled at the metal, watching the telescoping layers slide around under the rough attacks of her claws until they stopped, firmly refusing to yield any further. Neither the waistband, nor either of the thigh bands would budge a single inch, either. And she definitely couldn’t separate the layers. Oh, how delicious. She could find holes for peeing, and the back was a lot more open, to allow the angel to use the bathroom, and even clean herself fairly well — but how did the thing come off? There was no keyhole… At least, none Cinder could find.

She grabbed at the bit over the angel’s pubic area, pulling the layers up and down. “What if I do this?” She purred expectantly.

The angel shook her head. “I can’t feel it,” She said. “It’s… those are only the outer layers. That, and there’s a dome under there, that, um, doesn’t move, no matter what-”

“Oh. Wow, uh… H-How does it, um, open?”

“Oh. I’ll unlock it.” Tara whispered. “I know how to open it, you see… and once it’s open, you can have all of me that you want. But… If you want it opened… You have to win a game with me.” She looked up Cindy then, hugging her closer as she stared up into the hellhound’s eyes longingly. “It’s not like I like playing the game, but it seems like you really want to…” She fumbled with her words a little, leaning up to the hellhound’s long ears — “…D-Do it, sex, with me, and I want to too, Cindy, I really do. Really. But I can’t just take this off. It’s the rules. S-So… Do you want to do that, Cindy? Do you want to play with me?”

The hellhound stared at her for a moment, still a little shocked at the sight of the belt. “G-Game?” She stammered, lost for words for perhaps the first time in her life. “Look, I don’t really want to play a game-”

“PLEASE!” The angel pleaded, sounding almost like she was about to cry. “I-I really want to… to have s-sex…”

“But…” The hellhound sighed. “Look, I really like the kinky stuff that you’ve got going here. You’re… really cute. You’re really pretty, but I’m not sure right now we, ummm.” Her breath got shaky again as she looked down at the chastity belt. By Skaab, it was sturdy. Her paw reached out towards it.

The angel watched as the hellhound ran her fingers along the edge of the thing, smiling a little. “Isn’t the belt pretty, too?” She pridefully cooed. “A-Ah. Don’t touch too much there around the legs, I’m s-, h-ha, very sensitive there so j-just-”

Quickly, Cinder pulled her hand away. “Sorry.” She sighed. “It’s, um. It’s really pretty too, yes. Isn’t it really heavy, though? It’s so thick…”

“Nope!” The angel grinned. “I use low density heavenly steels, you see! Always the greatest care…” She sighed.

Cinder’s eyebrows were up. “You build these?!” She half-yelped.

“Yep!” The sudden warmth of the angel’s smile was almost radiating light. “I love them! I spend almost all my time making these, for all the wonderful girls that need them…” She leaned close. “And between you and me…” She whispered, “I’m normally very busy with that. I really don’t get a lot of time to spend around cute girls like you…” She blushed, but then her face fell. “After tomorrow, I’m busy for another 3 months.” She complained. “S-So, if you want to have, um, sex with me… I think it’d be of these one night stands… Hey, what does that mean? Do we have to do it standing up? I… really want to use the bed, if that’s okay with you?”

“Fine by me.” Cinder said impatiently, her paws going to the belt, giving it a tug. Ah, right, of course. The chastity belt was still doing the one thing it was designed to do and not letting her do that. “How does this thing come off, though? I don’t see any keyholes?” She looked back up at Tara, examining the keys around her neck again as the angel pouted back. “Does one of these open it?”

“No-”

“So then how do we get this party started, cutie?”

The angel bit her lip. “You’re not listening to me.” She complained. “People don’t listen to me.”

“What are you-”

“You should listen!” Tara interrupted, angrily. “You have to play the game. If you want the belt off, you have to beat me. Otherwise we can’t have sex. Those are the rules…”

“I don’t want to play a game!” Cinder growled. “I want to play with you…”

“Well, that’s not good enough!” Tara yelped, but then blushed, catching herself. “If you won’t play the game with me,” She whimpered, “We can’t do anything. I’m really sad… I really wanted to have sex…”

Cinder stared at her for a moment, confused and irate, but still quite aroused. She glanced over at the door, her foot tapping with annoyance as she weighed up her options. She sighed through her nose. “What’s the game?” She asked.

“Oh, thank you!” Tara looked like she was about to cry again. “You’ll play the game with me?”

“What are we playing?”

Tara blushed. “It’s not a game you’d know…” She said, taking the hellhound’s paw in hers. “It’s a little complicated, but I have everything we need here.” She lead Cinder over to the bed, then, reaching over to toss each pillow to the side, before letting go to peel back the bedsheets.

“What are you doing?” Cinder asked. “Stripping the bed?”

“Yeah!” The angel beamed at her, but elaborated no further. What she saw beneath the bedsheets, however, did. Underneath them, Cinder did not just see a plain mattress cover. She saw white straps, lots and lots of them, lying in wait. Encircling the bed, and the frame underneath, spaced evenly, adjusted precisely. The angel revealed everything, throwing the covers into the corner before taking out a plastic bag, filled with some kind of little black circle things.

“This…” The hellhound said, staring at the set of restraints. “What am I looking at? Don’t they use this sort of thing at hospitals?”

“Depends on the hospital,” Tara purred. “It’s called a segufix. It’s a piece of equipment made for humane, safe restraint of the full body. I chose it because, well… I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Manacles look good, handcuffs can be cute, but, it’s so nasty to see marks and bruises on people’s skin from them.”

Cinder felt nervous. “I don’t know if I want to do this.” She admitted. “I… I’m nervous. It looks… strong.”

“That’s the point, silly!” Tara laughed. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Can you tell me what the game is?” Cinder said. “I’ll decide then.”

“Okay,” The angel replied. “The game is… It’s complicated. You need to prove you’re worthy, you see. The segufix isn’t a requirement, but, I think it’ll make it better. For both of us.”

Cinder was unimpressed. “If you don’t tell me what it is-”

“I was getting to it,” The angel said quickly. “Basically… we lie in bed, together. We go to bed together, and I, um, play with you. There’s an hourglass, here on the bedside table. Six hours…”

The hellhound’s eyebrows went up — “Wait, I know this one. I have to not cum for six hours to win? That sounds really hard, though! I’m not sure I want to-”

“No.” Tara cut her off, looking very serious for a moment. “Wrong. You have six hours to cum.”

“Six whole hours?” The hellhound’s eyes widened. “That’s…? Is that even hard? We could do that in six minutes. What is this game even doing, testing if I have sex organs that actually work?”

The angel stared blankly at her. “I-I just…” She stammered. “I got told I need to do this. I’m glad you’re enthusiastic, though. Does that mean you’re ok to go in the restraints?”

She stared at Cinder longingly. Finally, the hellhound nodded. “Ok, we’ll quickly do this,” She said, shuffling onto the bed. “I’m telling you though, I’m definitely not going to need 6 hours to get off to someone fingering me up. Especially not when it’s you, cutie.”

The angel smiled at her happily. Sort of happily…

This smile, though… was a bit different from the others. Still happy, but with a hint of… something else.

Tara was so cute, though. Such a small, innocent, submissive looking girl wasn’t going to hurt her. It would be safe, the hellhound told herself. It might even be fun. Cinder slipped out of her clothes quickly, sliding herself into the restraints quite happily and then lying back and relaxing as the angel tightened them up. First her torso and wrists, then her thighs, then her ankles — all wrapped tightly by the sturdy straps, before the angel pushed down those circle things – magnetic locks, she told Cinder – securing the straps suddenly against escape. The hellhound would have felt a little more nervous, but Tara had this strange, medical precision about her. As if she had done this before. How comforting.

Click. Click.

Click. Click. Click. “Can you just shift a bit over? A little… Oh, that’s right, thank you.” Click. Click.

And on it went.

In mere moments, every lock on the segufix was set, the hellhound immobilised in a rather comfortable position on her back. She noticed that her legs were parted in this position, with ample space for the angel to sit between them, while her arms lay at her sides.

“Is it ok?” The angel whispered from behind her. “Are you comfortable?”

“Y-Yes, actually.” Cinder said, blushing a little.

It was… quite strange. It actually barely felt like she was restrained at all. It felt like she was just lying there, on her back. Like she could just, at any point she wanted, leave. It was nice. She was reluctant to struggle at first, doubting that these soft little straps would really hold a hellhound like her if she really, truly wanted to get away. None of her wanted to upset the angel by breaking her things.

This would soon change.

“There’s a few things I need to get.” The angel said softly. “A few of my brushes, and feathers, and… other things. You can wait a little while, can’t you?”

Cinder nodded slowly as the angel left the room for a moment, leaving her alone. It took her a few moments to realise how this looked. That she was naked, completely restrained to a bed with no covers on her body. She imagined, within moments, someone coming into the hotel room — perhaps a cleaner or unannounced visitor — and finding her there, shivering and immobile. Not only would she be exposed… they’d be able to do whatever they wanted, wouldn’t they?

Cinder tried to shift a little at that thought, feeling a little uncomfortable, and sort of itchy, but… she couldn’t. Irritated, she twisted and strained, trying to at least close her legs, then wrenching at the arm restraints, but… the segufix said no. She was immobilised, quite perfectly, unable to even shift her wrists to reach a single lock with her hands. Immediately, she began to sweat, struggling harder and harder against the straps, but to no avail. Even if she writhed and shook and heaved and strained, she was held firmly in this position, unable to move any of her limbs at all. She craned her head to look at her trapped body, how firmly secured it was. It was bewildering. When she kept still, she barely felt the straps. She felt like she was dressed in them, not at all firmly attached to the bed. Like she could just get up and leave, and, and yet… She bucked again, tugging and pulling, but the straps soon quieted her movements, gently but firmly telling her again, no. No, you don’t get to move. You’ll stay right here. Hellhounds were supposed to be strong… but no matter what she tried, how she bucked and shifted, she was effortlessly defeated.

There was nothing she could do but sit here and wait, now.

Minutes passed, and the angel didn’t come back. What was wrong? Where was she? Did… Did anyone know that Cinder was in here? Locked in this thing? Oh, what was that angel doing? At the thought, Cinder bucked hard again, working and wrenching at the restraints, but nothing loosened no matter what she tried. As more minutes passed, she got quite wild, testing the bonds frantically, but there was still no give. Nothing yielded, and the segufix kept her firmly in the same, comfortable position no matter what she tried. Even after 15 minutes of wriggling and tugging, she couldn’t slip a single strap. She was caught, like a fly in a spider’s web. Tara had secured her very, very well.

Finally, after nearly 25 minutes, the angel returned with a small, wooden box.

“T-Tara,” The flushed hellhound half-whimpered upon seeing her come in. “Where did you go? I’m not-”

“I know, I’m sorry!” The angel said quickly. “I lost my things downstairs. I’ve got them now. Are you okay?”

Cinder nodded quickly, still a little frustrated. She wanted to stop, but… If it was Tara… Okay. She trusted Tara.

…Didn’t she?

“You’re such a good girl,” Tara said happily, looking over her. “We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, okay?”

“Ah…” Cinder said, as the angel lay the long box beside herself, seating herself on the bed next to Cinder’s waist. “Okay. But, uh, what’s inside the box?”

“Secret.” Tara winked. “But you’ll find out. Listen, there’s something I forgot to tell you about the game. There are rewards for both of us, you see, depending on who wins. There’s a gift for you. I’ve got it in here somewhere, but-”

“I get a gift for winning, too?” Cinder interrupted. “Tara… I don’t know if this game makes a lot of sense. A reward just for you getting me off, as well as everything else? I, U-UMM.” She looked down, noticing the angel’s fingers had suddenly made contact with her thigh. It was just the lightest touch, running gently up and down her quivery, sensitive naked body as she once again found herself trying to squirm.

“Well,” The angel purred, raising her eyebrows — “Actually, Cindy… it’s not quite as simple a game as that. You see…” She paused again, as if thinking through her words as her fingertips continued to run their way slowly along the excited hellhound’s thigh, stopping just short of her slightly twitching sex – “I call it a gift… and it really is. It’s all ready for you, and I really did spend hours and hours on it… But the gift is what you get if you lose. If you win, you get to take this-” She tapped the crotch of her chastity belt. “-off me. And then, I guess you get to do what you want with me.”

There was a moment, as the angel’s fingers kept trailing up and down. “A-And what is the gift?” Cinder asked, the restraints feeling a little tighter now. “What gift do I get?”

“Girls who lose…” The angel slowly smiled. “My lost girls…” She purred, fiddling with those strange keys again. “I told you, they get a gift.”

“But what gift?”

The angel just smiled at her sweetly as she lifted one knee up, mounting her stomach. With the angel’s back in the way, Cinder couldn’t see anything that the angel was doing — besides her turning the hourglass over, and, the hellhound realised with a gulp, starting their time. Moments later, though, she didn’t need to. She could feel it.

“A-Ah-”

“Is that okay, Cindy?” The angel smiled, tracing her cool finger over the hellhound’s slit again, before gently pulling back her clitoral hood with the other hand. Cinder heard a jar open, and a moment later, the angel’s fingertips were back, moist and lubricated as they traced slowly… up and around the skin sorrounding Cinder’s clit… until, quite suddenly…

“H-HAA…” The hellhound gasped, as the angel suddenly pounced, her fingertips circling the exposed nub gently, ever so lightly. It felt so, so good, and Tara didn’t stop, Cindy gasping gently as the light touches continued.

But…

It was almost enough. But it wasn’t enough. The angel sighed happily, leaning her head to the side as her fingertips continued to move, caressing at the slightly frustrated hellhound’s sex so, so gently. Cindy’s legs twitched, jumping and shaking in the restraints. Why wouldn’t the angel just speed up? She needed more… Just a little bit more.

“Can, ah, canyougofasterplease… A-Ahnn. T-Tara?” Cinder tried, staring at the angel’s back.

Tara giggled. “Shh-shh-shhhhh.” She whispered. “Let’s not talk for a bit, okay?”

The hellhound gulped. “B-But-”

“Nice and quiet, okay?” Tara said softly. “Will you do that?”

“B-But, a-ah- Y-You’re slowing down-”

Tara’s caress, within minutes, went from stimulating, to frustrating, to completely unbearable. Quickly, Cinder realised that she could indeed have cum from the stimulation the angel had been giving her to begin with. But… The angel, she was slowing down and speeding up. In time with…

“A-Ah, I think… H-Ha, please just, don’t stop please…” The hellhound moaned, realising that she was cresting the wave for the first time. “Don’t stop…” Oh, finally. This would be over soon, then. How long had it been? She glanced over at the hourglass, then at the digital clock on the bedstand.

…Ten minutes!? She’d never taken that long to approach orgasm in her life.

It was Tara’s fault. This… This cute little thing. Did she even know how to stimulate someone properly? Well… Her deft touches were, perhaps, kind of amateurish. Or at least, it had seemed that way at first. It was only now that the hellhound was beginning to notice the level of precision Tara actually had. How she seemed to know where the most sensitive areas were on the hellhound’s exterior, and not only that. But also, just when she was about to…

The fingertips lifted away suddenly, the hellhound gasping with surprise. “A-Aah!” She yelped. “Why the hell did you stop?! I was about to-”

“You were about to win, silly.” The angel said softly. “I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. It’s the rules…” She caressed around the edges of the hellhound’s aching, jumping sex again.

“Look, this is s-stupid!” Cinder half-screamed. “Do you want to have sex with me or not?!”

“I don’t want to have sex with a girl that’s so unable to control herself that she can’t make herself cum when she wants to…” Tara smiled, her fingers cresting the hellhound’s slit as she began to touch the clit again, very lightly. “That’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it?” She sighed. “I guess you’ll have to just keep trying…”

Cinder fumed. This was stupid. This wasn’t what she’d wanted. This cruel little- “A-AH!” She yelped, as one of the fingers pushed its way inside.

“Shh…” The angel whispered, her slow, circling caresses pausing only briefly to position herself a little closer, her finger stirring the hellhound’s insides as she began to twitch and whine, writhing uselessly against the arm restraints. “Juuuust… Keep trying. Thaaaat’s it. What a good girl…” She sighed, as the hellhound bucked a little. “Do you like my little touches…?” Her voice fell even lower. “Keep trying… Juuuust…” Her fingers slowly moved out, resuming the unbearable caresses. Cinder tried to count them, desperately attempting to ignore her own twitches and gasps. One… Two… Three…

“Keep trying…”

Fifty-six… Fifty seven… Oh, my, still Fifty seven… Oh, that one took so long to tail off. Fifty eight…

Cinder gasped, tears in her eyes as she bucked and twitched. She was right on the edge, now. She was so close. Just a little more… Just a little fucking more! “Please, I, Haaa… I need some more!” She yelled, trying desperately to shift her position, to angle her back so she was closer to the angel’s gentle fingertips. But Tara wouldn’t let her. The angel wouldn’t allow her to cum.

She built her and built her, winding her sex up tighter and tighter with her circling, stirring fingernails, her warm, gentle breath. Again, the stimulation got slower and slower, her clit responding more and more. “You have to try to hide it from me more, silly…” Tara cooed, as Cinder began to pant again just as she slowed to a stop. “Dear me, you’re really bad at this game.” The angel sighed, stroking the hellhound’s bucking thighs. “Poor thing… You can’t seem to cum. Just… Keep trying, okay?”

Cinder whined.

“There there, don’t get angry. It’s not my fault you can’t manage to have one little orgasm, is it?”

It very much was Tara’s fault. The angel’s caresses, her careful touches, had been growing incredibly precise, her level of skill and practice at this now self evident. She giggled, her fingers gently hooking the hellhound’s slit again as she watched Cinder thrash against the straps holding her arms and wrists firm. But the hellhound could do nothing. She was completely at Tara’s mercy, and Tara was taking full advantage.

“Isn’t it not normal… not to be able to cum from someone touching you and playing with you like this?” The angel jabbed, a cruel delight in her voice as she gently stopped a third orgasm, then a forth. “Are you a bit of a freak, then?” She whispered cruelly, a few minutes later.

“S-Shut up!” The hellhound gasped. “A-AAH! Stop! Stop it! I want to do something else, j-just stop! Let me up!”

“Oh, my little puppy.” The angel said softly, the gentle, nimble caress continuing. “The game isn’t over… And we don’t need to stop. We’re both sooooo, so cosy, and you’re so beautifully restrained. We both know there’s nowhere you need to be. There’s nobody looking for you, so, you see…” her fingers caressed at the straps holding Cinder down… “There’s no reason to let you up. Not before you win, or we get to put your gift in place, in… Five hours and fifteen minutes, now. So juuuust… Ah-ah-ah! Silly, your body is being too honest with me. I caught it trying to cum again. You’ve got to try harder. You’ll never win at this rate…”

Another orgasm was blocked, gently yet firmly stopped by the angel lifting away, blowing on her sex gently and teasing her fingernails along the slit as the hellhound bucked and pulled at the restraints, unable to escape from underneath this tiny girl. Then another, and then another. It went on for what seemed like hours, but the hellhound knew it wasn’t. She could see the minutes passing on the clock, each one an intolerable, torturous eternity of gentle, cruel edging from the angel.

Finally, the touches came to a stop. “How pathetic…” She heard the angel purr. “Your body is so bad at cumming. I’m really trying to help you out, buuuut…” Her hand skated along Cinder’s thigh again, spreading warm wetness along it that only dripped down into the bedsheets. “Shall I go even easier on you? How about…” She lifted the lid of the box next to her. “Ah… Yes. Lovely.”

Cinder only saw the brush for a moment before it disappeared in front of the angel, the sight of the ornate handle and soft bristles causing her to immediately stiffen as she tried not to gasp from the gentle pokes of the angel’s nails sinking into her thigh. “Calm down a bit now, puppy…” The angel whispered, pinching her cruelly. “I want us to go from the top, now. That’s it…”

“H-Haaah…”

Cinder felt her clitoral hood peel back again before the brush made contact with it, her whole body jumping a little from the sudden sensation of it sweeping hard over her sex, then quickly pulling away. “Oh, how lovely…” The angel whispered, smiling back at her. “Did that feel good, Cindy?” She asked. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“Wh… Y-YES, bu- AAhnn…!”

The hellhound gasped as the second stroke hit, the angel surprising her yet again. Oh… Goodness. That one had… That one had really brought her close. But not… quite. She bucked and shook, trying to shake the just withheld orgasm out as the angel stroked her thigh, and she moaned desperately, but she just… couldn’t.

“Poor thing.” The angel whispered. “You just can’t seem to cum… It’s okay. You have a lot of time… We’ll keep… juuuuuust…”

Stroke. “A-AAH!” The hellhound gasped, bucking again as the almost faded sensation of the last orgasm returned. Her body reeled from another long, endurant stroke, leaving the brush coupled to her sex, even after the angel lifted it away, by hanging strings of hot, sticky wetness. Then, after that faded, another. Then another. She tried, as she had already been trying, to hide her reactions, her closeness, her desperation. But Tara knew. The angel always seemed to know exactly how close she was. Her timing was perfect, practiced and precise. The hellhound was just a toy to her now. And she soon found that it was impossible not to writhe, or gasp, or pant.

It went on for… unbearably long. Half an hour by the wall clock’s reckoning, but it felt so, so much longer. “Shhhhh…” The angel whispered. “You’re so noisy. I’m glad I put a noise cancelling field on the room, or we’d be disturbing the whole building…” She shook her head. “Why are you being so pathetic? If you could just beat me, we could have all the sex and orgasms you could ever want…”

“J-JUST LET ME GO!” The hysterical hellhound screamed, both craving and dreading the next stroke as it suddenly came. “H-HAAH! PLEASE!” She went wild in the restraints, but it was useless. The angel’s cruel, gentle touches wouldn’t stop, and she had no chance of getting free. Tara smiled, enjoying her captive’s reactions immensely — but at the same time, growing bored of the repetitions.

Another technique, then. She took a moment to adjust her grip on the brush.

Touch, touch. It took the hellhound no time at all to notice what was happening now. The angel smiled a little more each time Cinder whimpered, gently rotating the brush against the hellhound’s clit as she saw moisture finally begin to erupt from the beastwoman’s dripping, twitching snatch, dribbling slowly down the insides of her upper thighs. She rewarded it with a gentle caress, her smile only growing wider as the brush drew yet more strings and dribbles of moisture away, drizzling the further eruptions over the hellhound’s legs. They twitched and thrashed, then, the hellhound trying desperately to somehow escape, to protect herself from the gentle strokes and touches as Tara tutted, shifting a little. She drew the brush lightly over Cinder’s sex by the very tip of its handle, hovering back to circle the hellhound’s jumping, pulsing clit increasingly slowly.

Cinder couldn’t take this. She couldn’t take another moment of this. This angel was driving her crazy… “H-Ha, aah…” She panted. “Just… Please, I give up! I give up!” Her head rocked left and right as she strained at the segufix straps, pulling with all her might at the restraints as the angel giggled a little, only continuing to tease as her ass pressed down on the hellhound’s stomach. “I don’t want to play any more!”

“I already told you, you aren’t allowed to give up,” The angel said softly. She nodded towards the hourglass. “We’ve got four and a half more hours,” She purred. “And if you can’t manage to win, you’ll just have to be a good girl and wear my gift…”

Cinder thrashed with all her might. She drove her weight up, desperately trying to shift her position even a little, but it was utterly useless. The segufix held her easily. The angel giggled a little, pausing to run the brush up and down the hellhound’s bucking stomach as she leaned down to Cinder’s ears.

“Strong, isn’t it?” She purred softly, as the hellhound whimpered and gasped. “Rated up to 100kg, I’m told. Medical grade… Quite impossible to escape from without… this…” She held up the strange little magnet she had in her lap. “But I think we’ll definitely have to keep it all locked until the end. I was right to use it; you really can’t play fair. I can see you trying to grab me, you know.”

“J-Just, ah, just let me go please please just- A-Haa… Aaah…!” The hellhound’s body shook. “LET ME GO, PLEASE!” She begged, wriggling as much as she was able. The angel shook her head.

The fingers were back. They played with Cinder very gently, taking note of how excited the hellhound had gotten… and how desperate her body had become. It only took a few very gentle touches for Tara to feel the gentle patterns of throbs and tightening muscle that indicated it was time for her to lift her fingertips gently away, and run them along the hellhound’s thigh as she thrashed and begged. Cinder had lost count of how many times she’d been stopped at her very limit, now, and Tara had never been counting in the first place. The number, in fact, was getting quite close to a hundred, and rising rapidly with the hellhound’s increasing sensitivity. Now it only took a few very slow, very light strokes to take the hellhound right to the very edge. Tara frowned. This was something she normally liked about the game — this increasing difficulty. But… It made her favoured techniques, the brushes, the feather-light touches, somewhat untenable.

Irritated at the hellhound’s weakness, she elected to punish her with the rotating brush technique again. Cinder didn’t notice her picking it up again, the place she had set it down impossible to see for the angel sitting upon her stomach — and so feeling it return had an electric effect on the hellhound. “N-No, please!” Came the choked cry, in between gasps and pants. Oh, wonderful. Cinder had remembered this one.

Tara’s teachers had often criticised her for her version of the rotating brush technique, and Tara didn’t really think that this was fair. It wasn’t her execution that was the problem — that was perfect. The problem had been how long she elected to apply it. On the glans of a penis, or the clit, the rotating brush technique with a properly enchanted brush in just the right place could create an explosion of sensation… but overusing it, applying it for an extended time… that had a dangerous effect. That could break a victim mentally. Apparently, it was important not to do that.

The safe limit she had been taught was 10 minutes as the absolute maximum. And that, for very poorly behaved kept. But, this hellhound… this girl she had caught wasn’t an angel. She wasn’t of the church. She didn’t deserve gentle treatment. She was a monster. A sinner. Her goddess had told her.

Tara smiled.

30 minutes, she decided, continuing to rotate the tip of the brush gently at the rapidly pulsing clit, feeling the hellhound’s hips buck hard underneath her as her loins reacted, throbbing and aching. “Hush…” Tara purred. “Don’t cry, now. A big, brave hellhound like you can take this…”

With a normal brush, the hellhound would be cumming buckets within seconds, but this brush… the purple streaks, the slight glow of the bristles gave it away. As long as the stimulation that pushed Cinder towards orgasm came from the center bristles of this brush, orgasm would be absolutely impossible for the hellhound. But that wouldn’t stop her body from desperately trying, her tunnel clenching and loosening over and over as the juices flowed out over her body again. Oh… It was beautiful. So effective. Truly, her favourite technique.

“Please… T-Tara, please…!” The hellhound whimpered, whining with each reversal of the brush’s spin, not understanding why she still couldn’t get any relief as the burning from her loins spread tingles of desperation throughout her whole body. She blushed at how meek she sounded, feeling intense shame, but she couldn’t stop trying to get the angel to respond to her. “A-AH, T-Tara! HmmMMmm… Tara… T-Tara! I, ahh, I want you to s-stop…!” She tried to sound composed, tough and in control, desperately fighting against the sensations, still tugging at the restraints. But she had no power here. When she heard the angel’s giggle, she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Shhhh…” Tara whispered, “I know, I know… It’s okay. I know you can’t manage to cum. You’ll just have to keep bearing it… Ah… Hmmh.” She shifted a little, pulling the hellhound’s clitoral hood back a little further as she gently tilted the brush, then resumed the slow rotations as she pushed it closer, nullifying the orgasm-blocking effect quite deliberately by briefly allowing non-enchanted bristles to come into contact with the hellhound’s body — then, at the last possible moment, lifting the brush away and starting over.

Cinder screamed, going wild, but the angel was already starting again.

“And bearing it…” Tara whispered, ignoring the thrashing, maddened hellhound underneath her as the second minute began. This technique was quite a difficult one to perform correctly, even for someone with Tara’s level of skill. “It’s going to be a little tricky, buuuut… It’s nothing a monster like you can’t… tolerate…”

Cinder throbbed and ached. Another cycle went by, and the hellhound only got more and more agitated, gasping and crying as she lost the ability to form words.

“A-AH. AAH! Pl-AAH. Hhhh, pl-AAHN! HNNNN-MMM!” Cinder suddenly tried, desperately trying to talk. “PleeeeeeEEEeee, h-ha! Pluuuuuhmm!” The angel loved that. How she could mess with it, interrupt the hellhound’s words with her movements each time she tried to form them, bringing the brush closer, tapering it to the left, to the right, pausing to tap and circle the twitching, throbbing nub with her soaked fingertips… it was so, so invigorating. And so, so de-stressing. It was igniting those sensations within Tara’s own chastity belt that she had grown to enjoy immensely. Goodness, Tara had needed this.

“Maybe I’ll let you go. Maybe we’ll stop the game,” She said, smiling as the 10 minute limit came and went. “Would you like that?”

“Y-AH! YUAAAH… YE-MMMH-Hhhhh, S-ST-AAH!”

“Oh, Cindy, I asked you a question. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Can you not answer a simple question?”

“Y-You- Ah… S-STOP IAAAH! I wahmmm! I wan, h-ha! Haaah, s-stop!”

“It’s okay,” The angel said softly. “I wasn’t going to stop. I want to tease you more…”

It went on and on. Minute by minute. The hellhound eventually stopped fighting, stopped yelping. By twenty-five minutes, all Tara could hear was quiet, defeated panting and crying. It was musical to her, the indication of her captive, for the moment, being truly broken in. Regardless, Cinder’s thighs couldn’t keep still. They shook and writhed, testing the straps desperately, bouncing restlessly as the hellhound waited for her stamina to come back just so that she could exhaust herself testing them again. Finally, at thirty-two minutes, the angel having almost grown bored, but not quite, Cinder went wild again, crying incoherently as she threw her weight into the restraints. Tara almost felt sorry for her then, but still… Thirty-two minutes and twenty-three seconds wasn’t really a very nice time to finally lift the brush away. Thirty-three minutes would be an odd number to stop at, and a multiple of eleven too, which was quite nasty. Thirty-five would be best, as it was a multiple of five, but… that was an odd number. She sighed, adjusting her position to better keep the hellhound still. “There’s no need for all that…” She sighed. “It’ll be just a little longer.” She smiled, watching the desperate, flustered wetness puddle between the hellhound’s legs. It wouldn’t.

At thirty five minutes, the angel decided to stop. “Shhhh.” She said softly, as the hellhound whined, her sex stinging and throbbing under the angel’s gentle fingertips as she, in a single movement, casually built her up to the edge, then left her throbbing and whining again. “Are you even trying, puppy?” She purred, unable to stop herself from giggling a little. “A normal girl would have cum from that, wouldn’t she?” Her fingernails tapped and scraped gently at the hellhound’s drenched snatch, checking the responsiveness by watching the thighs twitch and bounce again. “And yet, a masochist freak like you… Oh, my…” It was so, so high now…

“You’re still being so honest with your body…” She mused gently. “I wonder… are you doing it on purpose?” She waited for a response, but the hellhound only sniffled angrily, bucking again underneath her as her fingers crested the labia’s lips, sliding briefly past and immediately flitting away the moment she felt the telltale signs of an orgasm. “Ah-ah! I think you’ll have to try a bit harder than that. You’re too sensitive for me to keep playing with you like this, now. But… That’s okay. I’ve got a new idea.”

Cinder was trying. She was trying so desperately. Her passage clenched, the muscles in her pelvis squeezing and pulsating as she tried harder and harder to force the orgasm out, her hips wriggling and shaking, trying to move under the angel. Tara was just, so, fucking good… She was so close, if she could just…

She felt the feather on her pubic area very suddenly, stiffening and yelping as it moved slowly and intricately, stimulating her ever so slightly. It was light enough that she found she was being built up slowly again, rather than being brought right to the edge repeatedly. But it didn’t feel like a break. With how sensitive she’d become now, it was just as bad.

The angel began to talk again. “Three more hours… Half time. Did you know that, where I come from, edging… Is considered a science? A whole field.” She slowly nodded, as if Cinder had replied rather than continuing to pant quietly. “That’s right.” She sighed. “And there are whole schools, and techniques favoured by the different houses… It’s… Just… So, so wonderful to study. You practice with toys at first, but then, after a year or so… They start bringing you… Patients. Men and women, you pick your preference, from the church… Who’ve misbehaved. And you get to play with them, and play with them… Until the teachers make you stop. And, normally, you see, they do make you stop after a while. After a couple of days, the punishments are done, and the patient is… forgiven their sins, by our wonderful goddess, and their lesson is done. Some, though… they won’t be forgiven, unless they repent. They have to be taught that their ways were wrong. I was the best at that.” The hellhound gasped as the feather began to circle around, each word from the angel entrancing her more as Tara shifted again, her moistened chastity belt grinding down the hellhound’s stomach as she lay down. Her ass arrived, a short time later, in front of Cinder’s face — the hellhound glared at it, only becoming more aroused. But, that chastity belt. It really didn’t have any kind of lock, did it? She could see everything from here — there was none on the front, or the back. Just smooth, telescoping, perfectly formed metal, and a single insignia in the angel’s own handwriting. My Vow. Nr. 000001. She watched how it reformed comfortably to the angel’s body, the part covering her pubic area stretching out wide as the angel opened her legs.

“Sometimes, my classmates felt sorry for them. I had to help the teachers remind everyone that they needed to be detached, to ensure that discipline and work were given properly no matter what. I remember the day they brought us a girl that fell, though.” The feather stopped for a moment, as the angel quivered with pleasure at the thought. Cinder writhed a little, trying to get just a little more stimulation as her juices ran, stopped moments from orgasm yet again. She bucked, shaking away her angry tears, trying desperately to fuck the feather, to prevent this horrible angel from getting her way. “There was no sympathy that day,” Tara continued, with a smile, as the caress slowly resumed. “Everyone wanted a go at her. But only our teachers were trusted. They would demonstrate on her, every day, showing me and the other trainee keepers who had made it to our level all the ways in which such behavior could slowly, surely be corrected and trained away. The fallen girl was a nasty piece of work — small, with short dark hair. Her name started with a D, but I couldn’t tell you what it was, and she was being generously reformed by a high ranking beltmaker that had taken her on and lent her to us. She’d swear and scream obscenities at the whole room, but the tutors wouldn’t gag her no matter how we asked. We had her for but a month… But, on that last day, I finally got her alone…” She chuckled nastily. “No matter what our tutors did, they couldn’t, perhaps wouldn’t, make her say that she was sorry and mean it. But I could. Of course, they threw me out for that. Ingrates. Thankfully, I found myself a far more, rewarding? Call in life. It’s been a few centuries since then, now.” She looked down at the hellhound. “But this isn’t about me, is it, Cindy?” She sighed.

“F-Fuck, I, A-AH!” The hellhound managed. The angel tutted. She got up, then, finally laying down next to cinder as she leaned over her, slowly running the long edge of the feather down and over Cinder’s soaked clit as the hellhound whined and writhed.

“It’s been so long, now, and you still can’t seem to win. But…” The angel seemed to think, then, for quite a long time.

“Please…” Cinder gasped. “Stop… H-Ha…”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, puppy…” She finally continued, lifting the feather away. “This chastity belt I’m wearing… It doesn’t open.” She gulped a little, taking a moment to psyche herself up before continuing – “And that means it won’t ever come off. And it hasn’t needed to, to be fair, because you see, nobody has ever been able to win the game. But…” She shifted again, and for the briefest moment, the metal between her legs brushed against the hellhound’s skin. It was drenched, now. Soaking wet. Warm, musty, and utterly desperate.

“You’re… wet…” The hellhound panted.

“Yes, I am.” The angel said. “I’m… The thing is, I think, that… If I had to choose again, I wouldn’t have done it. That’s their final test, you see… The final thing the church make you do to become accredited as, well, as a chartered Beltcrafter. The first belt you make – the one that you are graded and judged on the security of – must be for you.” She shook her head. “I was so stupid. I wanted to build a masterpiece, something even I would have no idea how to escape from, and damn the cost, b-but… The thought of it being used against me by someone else, by my mean, awful keykeeper… It was too much. I prayed to her grace, desperately seeking an answer, and for the first time, she responded. She told me what I had to do. She said she could be the one to… look after me, from now on. I forged and built it, working through the night every night I could bear to for over a month. A belt that would lock in place for good, with no way to take it off again. A vow of permanent chastity. I made the assessors from the church, and my keykeeper, put it on me, and I ignored all their warnings.”

“Y-You did what…?”

“Well, when it was on, it scored the most perfect marks in every category that I think have ever been awarded, cementing me as… some of them call me a titan. A visionary. I… don’t feel like that. The problem is…” She sighed, rising to her knees and gripping the waistband, shifting the deceptively malleable layers of telescoping metal left and right as she pried at the belt hopelessly, unable to really budge it an inch downwards. “I-It’s… sealed, now.” She stammered, as it suddenly began to glow. “For good,” She managed to add. “There’s nothing to be done. The fit is unparalleled in comfort and manoeuvrability, but the security is quite undefeatable, even via strategies that are considered state of the art among those who specialise in the removal of belts with lost keys. It will eternally remain locked onto my body, and it’ll never, ever come off.”

“You can’t be serious.” Cinder gasped. “You’re… How long?”

“Two hundred and sixty eight years. Even the hellfire forges are useless, because once the alloy of the heavenly steel and that bronze I sourced formed, the metal set in a way that meant it could never be melted down again. The church bought and classified the alloy and the manufacturing process, of course, at the cost of more money than I could ever have hoped to have. I shouldn’t even be telling you about it. But I just…! Somehow, some way, her grace’s energies found their way in. Nobody will believe me, but, I’m certain… A few years or so go by, it gets worse and worse, and after about half a decade I just… I can’t carry on. I can’t take it. I begin to hear her, and I have to drop my work. I drip, and quiver, and throb, and writhe so much that I can’t think. It’s like she’s right next to me, all the time, playing endlessly with my… M-My… Mmmh! And there’s only one way I know to make it better.” Her voice was shaky as she picked up the feather again, the belt apparently far more difficult to tolerate than it had been when it wasn’t glowing a moment ago. “Two more hours, fifty more minutes…” she hissed. “And then, your gift. I’m truly so, so sorry, Cinder, I know I’ve been mean to you, but I have to. I h-have to. Her grace… Won’t accept anything less, than what I came here to do tonight, with the gift I built to the measurements she gave me, as her intolerable teasing followed me into my dreams. She doesn’t like me telling you this, I- You were in them too, you, y-you have to understand, she said this time, she might actually let me… Mmmh.” The angel clawed at the belt again, kicking at the bed. “She won’t leave me alone until I do it. And it’s getting so, so bad. It… It’s been worse, sometimes, than anything I’ve done to you today. So just, please… Just try to bear it, won’t you?”

“B-But-”

The angel moved between Cinder’s legs again, but now she was facing her. She gritted her teeth, turning the feather in her fingers. “Just relax, Cindy…” She purred anxiously, as the hellhound fought at the restraints desperately, still unable to move even an inch. “See?” The angel smiled again, her fingertips stirring the hellhound’s loins possessively, teasing roughly at Cinder’s burning sex as the tears returned to her eyes. “You’re so well secured… And there’s nowhere you need to be. You’ll be the best addition to my lost girls that I could ever have asked her for.”

“P-Please, I- Ah… N-No! Let me go, please…!” The hellhound went wild in the restraints again, bucking and wrenching at the straps hopelessly as she felt the feather touch down, moving slowly up and around in time with the angel’s circling fingertips. Soon, she was gasping and panting once more, feeling the fingers and the feather work together to stimulate her so unbearably lightly. One finger slid inside her, rubbing and flicking against the inside of her clenching tunnel as she tried desperately to hump it, to free her torso from the straps keeping it so completely still and vulnerable. Free of the angel’s weight, her struggling renewed, but rather soon, only half an hour and 13 denied orgasms later, came to a exhausted, humiliated stop.

The edging, however, did not.

It cycled endlessly between so many different techniques. The feathers, several different ones — the brush, the long strokes, the intolerable rotation of the brush’s very tip against her weary, overstressed clit… and those fingers. Those soft, careful, deft little fingers. Cinder could’ve wept. But she’d already spent enough of her tears today, and it was all she could do to helplessly weather the sensations, unable to do a single thing to stop the angel or even interrupt her careful, practiced touch. She wailed and whined, but it was hopeless. The angel ignored her, neither one of them able to focus on anything but the sensations they felt.

As it went on, the air became thick and humid with heat, and the twin aromas of sweat and needful wetness. The angel didn’t stop, but Cinder could, in the back of her mind, feel her moving, even behind her tightly shut eyes. She leaned endlessly back and forth, panting harder and harder as she shifted her hips again and again. Moisture trickled and pooled down her legs, too, seeping from the aged, watery treasure secured so firmly and endlessly within the brightly glowing chastity belt as that same unseen force the angel had mentioned drove her wilder and wilder as her shaky fingers carefully played with the hellhound’s sex.

By the end of it, the puddle on the bed was a combination of them both, with a notable emphasis on Cinder. “F-Five minutes,” The angel whispered, reaching over to pick up two brushes with tiny bristles. “Five minutes left, if you think you can still win. I’ll keep going. I won’t stop, no matter what, so if you think you can cum… Five minutes.”

Was it finally time? The hellhound leaned back, trying to arch her back even a little as she strained at the restraints holding her wrists and body with all the strength she had left. But she couldn’t. Even after hours of trying, the segufix held her easily. Underneath the two brushes, her sex screamed and ached to be touched, the bristles individually touching and caressing at her jumping, aching clit.

“Four minutes,” The angel whispered, circling around. Cinder’s heart beat faster, her whole body throbbing as she continued to thrash. She… She had to think of something. She worked the muscles in her pelvis, clenching and unclenching as the deft touch of the brushes continued, on and on — and it helped a little, but…

It still, still wasn’t enough.

“Three minutes.”

She just needed just a little more stimulation, and maybe she’d get out of this without receiving whatever… gift… the angel had chosen for her. She couldn’t lift up her pelvis to hump the brush, nor could she, even now, free her hands. She wriggled and clenched, desperate to get just a little more of the angel’s gentle teasing.

She was so, so close.

“Two minutes.”

Her heart beat faster, but she couldn’t think of anything new to try. She was getting tired, but she couldn’t stop. Not until the very end.

Was this… was it working?

“One minute.”

It was working.

She was closer now than she’d ever been, mere moments away from a heart rending, earth shattering orgasm. She just needed just a little more. She was so sensitive, and the brushes weren’t slowing down. She could feel the sweat pouring off her body as she continued to move, and the feeling of powerful arousal continued to spread. Finally, for the first time of the entire session, she felt herself pass by what she thought was the point of no return. Her passage spasmed, her clit pulling down, and then, finally-

The brushes… were gone. And Cinder still hadn’t cum. Her sex throbbed desperately, suspended for a moment within milliseconds of pure bliss. It felt as if the signal to cum had been halfway between her brain, and her sex, but somehow, it had stopped.

“Time’s up.” The angel purred. “It’s my win…”

“N-No.” Cinder gasped. “NO! NO, PLEASE!” She went wild again, shaking and wrenching at the restraints as the angel stroked at her thigh sadly. “PLEASE, JUST A BIT MORE!” She screamed. “I WAS ABOUT TO CUM, PLEASE, JUST A FEW MORE SECONDS! PLEASE…!”

“It’s okay…” Tara whispered in her ear, flopping down onto the bed next to her as the hellhound stared back at her in horror. “I told you, nobody has ever been able to win that game. At least now, you get gifts.”

“What…?” The hellhound’s body was still shaking, her pussy still very much trying to back down from the throes of the mindblowing orgasm she’d been so close to having. “T-Tara, listen. I really don’t want any gifts, please. I want to just go, and go home. I want you to undo these, these fucking straps-” – She hammered at the mattress — “-And let me leave… Please…”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not how it works.” Tara sighed. “Come on, now. You’re so angry and frustrated, aren’t you? Come here.” She kissed the hellhound then, their lips linking briefly enough for Cinder to smell her sweat and perfume — and taste something quite exotic from the angel’s mouth. After a moment, the angel leaned back, satisfied that she’d quieted the hound’s struggles. “Now, just relax.”

Cinder would’ve gone wild at hearing that, but, somehow…

Was her field of vision getting smaller? Or…? She forced her eyes open, but they soon began to close again, and this time, she couldn’t. She pulled weakly at the restraints, but it seemed almost like her strength was leaving her. “Whaaadidyogivveme…” Were the last words, or perhaps one word, that she said before passing out on the bed.

—

It was an hour from noon when the winter sun’s light finally snuck its way into the bedroom, thin rays illuminating Cinder as she slept. The sleeping position that she had chosen — or, perhaps more accurately, the sleeping position that her body had chosen — was one that only served to accentuate the hellhound’s shapely, rounded hips, and her tiny waist. But something was amiss. Something faintly gleaming from just above the covers hiding the hellhound’s legs, and waist, from view, just below the button of her belly. Something that created an ever so slight shape in the bedclothes. And if this did not betray enough, of course, there was the gigantic, round lock hanging over the edge of the quilt, pulling it away to reveal a rather thick, silvery band encircling the hellhound’s hips jealously. The weight of the lock, the feel of it, brushing gently against Cinder’s soft, coaly thigh as she rolled her body, was perhaps both what first stirred her, and the first indication of what the angel had left her with.

She rose slowly, then, briefly unsure how she had come to sleep in this room. Suddenly, she remembered the restraints, the angel’s face, her soft voice, her soft, gentle, infuriatingly light touches. The throbbing of her loins, she didn’t have to remember. For it was still there… But so was something else. A strange feeling around her waist, between her legs, slowly took her attention, and, as she shuffled around under the covers, she quickly realised that this tightness, this strange, rigidly steely grip on her hips, was not one that could be explained by being tangled in bedsheets, nor drunkenly stumbling into bed wearing a rather chafing undergarment. The tightness between her cheeks took her attention first, her paw sent to search, to provide answers unlikely to be useful without visual confirmation. What it found was perplexing; a hard, tight and cool metallic construction of some kind, clamped tight on her muscular little waist, set firmly in place atop her rounded hips.

It left no gap under either its inner or bottom edge, and it squeezed hard, though not detrimentally so, at the base of her stomach, travelling around the sides of her body to the area above her shapely behind and tapering, just at the nape of her ass, on both sides, in order to unify into one single metal bar. A bar that that only narrowly avoided her tail, bisected her already tightly constricted ass into two halves, and had a rather large hole where she would presumably be able to defecate without obstruction — something of little comfort. This was not, however, the part of the contraption that slighted Cinder the most — she found that part next, as she continued to trace the line of the belt with only two of her paws. She began to arch her back then, her arm reaching between her legs from behind, following the pleasant, inviting feeling of her pussy, and perhaps wondering, just for a moment, if this investigation could wait until her morning masturbation session had been completed. She pounced, eager to confirm to not be the case what she quickly realised was — that, rather than plunging deep into her nethers, her claw was to come up against only a solid wall of moist, gilded steel, with a single slit far too narrow to fit more than even the tip of her fingernail through.