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Amity is tied up to a chair, and there’s a vibrator tied to it under her. One of the big, Magic Wand ones. It’s not on yet. Amity is wearing a skirt and panties and a top that falls off her shoulders. Her arms are tied in a box behind her, her hands touching opposite elbows. Her legs are tied to the legs of the chair.
Victoria is sitting on her bed looking at her. Victoria is wearing her usual tank top, riding up over her stomach, and loose pants. Her hands rest in her lap. Her shoulders, rounded, are corded with muscle.
Amity looks down at Victoria’s lap. She doesn’t want to look her in the eyes. She shifts in her chair.
“Please turn it on,” she says.
Victoria clicks a button, and the vibrator whirrs to life underneath her. At the lowest setting, she can’t really feel it through her panties. She mostly just hears it, feels a slight buzz.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Good,” says Victoria. She sits up, props herself up on her arms. She looks at Amity, watches her cautiously test out her range of motion on top of the vibrator.
Amity finds a way to make it feel good and gasps quietly, sitting herself down on it harder. She can’t stop herself from moving back and forth on it a little bit.
“That’s a good girl,” Victoria says again. Her dark hair falls across her shoulders, and her eyes gleam. Amity squirms under her gaze, the vibrations buzzing through her whole core, making her muscles feel melty.
Victoria flicks the vibrations up a level, and Amity jumps. And then she puts them back down.
“Tell me,” she says. “What do you want?”
This is the part that Amity is scared about. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know what Victoria wants. She doesn’t quite know how much she wants to admit. Maybe what she wants is too much. Or maybe what she has to say is not enough for Victoria. That seems more likely, at this point, with Victoria taking charge of her so easily.
“Uh,” she says, her head feeling a little fuzzy with the vibrations. “I want. Uh.” She stops to think a little more, her eyes wandering over Victoria’s strong arms, the strip of brown skin that peeks out under her shirt. “I want you to fuck me,” she settles on, and then, worrying that that’s not enough, “really, really want it, I want, fuck, I want you on top of me.” She stops abruptly, worried she’s gone too far, blushing hot red.
Victoria flicks the vibrations up again. “Good girl,” she says. She leaves them up for several seconds. Amity almost tries to get away from them, feeling nervous about how much they’re making her react, how they’re starting to make her wet while Victoria looks at her so unaffected.
She puts them down again, though, and Amity eases back down, relieved.
Victoria will be wanting another confession. Amity’s mind races, trying to think of something else.
“I want,” she says. Her hips, of their own accord, rut against the head of the vibrator. It’s addictive. She wants more. “I want you to put your hands everywhere. Everywhere you want.” And now she’s thinking about it, imagining Victoria’s hands on her neck, her lower stomach, the backs of her thighs as she fucks her. Oh god.
“Everywhere I want, huh?” says Victoria. “Where do you want them?”
“On my neck,” Amity admits. “And—- and everywhere—-” she cuts herself off with a loud “fuck,” as Victoria turns the vibrator up again. “Fuck, want them inside me,” she says, moving desperately against the toy. Her voice is fragile.
“Tell me what else,” Victoria says, sternly. Amity whines, rolls her hips against the hard plastic. Victoria turns it down again.
“I want you to bite me,” she says, wanting it back up, wanting Victoria. “I want you to—ohhh, I want you to make it hurt.” And now she looks up at Victoria, and as she does it Victoria puts the vibrator up two levels, and Amity yelps and squirms away from it as best as she can. Victoria is looking at her with such hunger, such curiosity.
She turns it down after a few seconds and Amity relaxes. It feels really good now, her whole cunt thrumming with the vibrations, leaking into her panties. It feels like her body is filling with warm light, starting with the perfect, sweet vibrations on her cunt.
“That’s a good, good girl,” Victoria hums, and Amity lets out a soft moan. “Tell me how else you want me to hurt you.”
“I want you to bite me,” Amity says again. “And you can - I want you to hit me, with, with whatever you want. And um,” — Victoria turns the vibrator back up to the second level, and Amity has to stop talking, has to stop herself from moaning out loud — “on my tits too. And wax.” She’s rambling, her words losing coherency as the feeling in her cunt grows, feeling full and hot and wet. “Hot wax. To paint me.”
“Mmh,” says Victoria. “Are you a painslut, sweet girl?”
She’s letting Amity say no if she doesn’t want to be called that but oh, Amity does. “Yes,” she says, “I’m a painslut.” It makes her stomach hurt to say that.
Victoria grins at her, and calls her a good girl for saying it. Oh, fuck. Amity hopes that she does something about that, hurts her like she wants, because she’s sure that Victoria wants it too.
Victoria leaves the vibrator running like that, and Amity gets more desperate, her skirt bunching up under her, her panties slick and transparent. Her face is flushed. Her chest rises and falls with her quick breath.
“Sweet girl,” Victoria says, “you’re a mess just from talking about it. I know you want more. Tell me what you’ve thought about, sweet thing. Tell me what you’ve imagined me doing to you.” Her voice is low and eager. Her words rush together, a wild, rain-swollen river.
“Oh, fuck,” Amity slurs. She feels so good, so hot. “I thought about, uhh, I thought about you making me eat you out, and being mean, and pulling my hair, and —” Victoria flicks the vibrator up another level, and the vibrations go so deep, and Amity bounces up and down, hard, pleasure-pain against her clit. “Choking me. Not letting me breathe until you’re done.” She sobs, her clit hard and throbbing, her skin flushed, everything almost too much. Victoria turns it down again.
“That’s it,” she says. And then she waits for Amity to tell her more.
“I want you to take off your belt, and, and spank me with it, and make me thank you, and make me cry—” The vibrator is turned back up and Amity grinds down into it, hard, lets out a gasping moan. “Fuck, V, I’m gonna come.”
“No you’re not,” Victoria says, and turns it down again. “Wait.”
“Oh, yes,” Amity says, “yes, sir.” She didn’t mean to say that, a word her ex liked her to use. It just came out of her on instinct. But Victoria almost growls at it.
“You’re so good, Amity,” she says. “Hold it. You’re gonna come when you give me everything, okay?”
“Yes,” Amity whines, fucking herself on the vibrator, not making herself come but unable to give up the perfect pleasure. “Oh, god, Victoria, I want it so much. I want you to hold me down and make me take it, I want it so it really really hurts, I want, I want, I want you to torture me.” Amity doesn’t know where this is coming from, but she feels it bubbling up inside her, under her skin, aching with how much she wants it. Her clit throbs.
“Fuckk,” Victoria says. She’s pressing her own thighs together. “That’s a good girl, Amity. Tell me more.”
“I, ahhhh,” Amity says, racking her brain, looking for more to say about that fantasy. It’s so hard to think of anything, her mind slowly taken over by the desire for more, more, more. “When you’re done I want you to fuck me over your lap and I want you to spank me more before you let me come and I want you to hit me so hard you make me scream.”
“More,” says Victoria. She flicks the vibrator back up, and Amity’s eyes roll back a little bit. She ruts frantically against the head. She’s so close, so close, so close.
“I want, oh god I want I want I want you to fuck me while I tell you to stop.” This is something new, something she’s never really thought about before. “I want it to be too big and I wan’ you to make me take it while I try to get away, I want you to be stronger than me, fuck, Victoria, please, please.”
“Not yet,” Victoria says, and as soon as she sees Amity start to tense up she turns it down again. Amity almost keens. “You’re doing so well. Keep going.”
“Fuckkk,” Amity whines, dropping her head back, struggling against the restraints on her arms. Being denied makes it so, so much hotter. “Oh, Victoria, fuck me, fuckk.”
“That’s not what I asked for,” Victoria breathes, and turns the vibrator down again, to the lowest level. Her face is flushed, though, the tendons standing out in the hand gripping the remote. “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”
Amity struggles to think. More, she knows there’s more. But she’s getting into dangerously filthy territory.
“Leash,” she whispers, “collar, gag, leash. And you do whatever the fuck you want.”
Victoria immediately turns the vibrator back up. Amity sighs and ruts against it. Her skirt is wet underneath her, her white panties transparent, her shirt all the way off one shoulder. “I would be so cute, V. And I would be such a dumb fucking toy, I wouldn’t be able to talk, I would get so messy.” She pushes her clit into the head of the vibrator. She has to try hard to get what she wants, the fabric between her and the vibrations, muting them. “And you tie me up and drag me around and, —-” she finds the perfect spot, just for one second “---ohhhh, and, uh, make me fuck myself on your thigh or your hand and mmn wherever you want.”
“There we go,” Victoria says, and laughs, a mean, rasping laugh. It just makes Amity wetter. She turns the vibrator up two levels. Amity bites her lip hard, drops her head back, wiggles her hips against the vibrator, nestling it right against the shaft of her clit. She can come like this, she knows, she’s gonna come from this.
“Fuckk,” she slurs, head fuzzy, desperate, wanting, needing Victoria to not stop. “Step on me. I want you to hurt me, nnnn, and…and leave marks, and I wanna be on the fucking ground under you, it makes me so wet when you’re mean.”
“Yeah, I know,” Victoria says, leaving it up, and Amity feels a burning rush of humiliation, that she’s so easy, that she gets off on Victoria’s cruelty. The embarrassment pools in her gut and sits there like molten lead and makes her hotter.
She moves desperately against the vibrator. She wants the oblivion of orgasm. She begs. “Please, V,” she groans, straining against her bound arms, rutting down with all her weight. “Sir, please let me come, I need it so bad.”
“No,” Victoria says, grinning, just like Amity knew she would, and still she leaves the vibrator up. Amity pants and bounces and digs her skin into the ropes, trying to hurt herself so she doesn’t come yet. “You’re not coming until you’ve told me everything you’d let me do to you, and I know how fucking wet it’s gonna make you, how bad you want it. And you want that, don’t you. You want to humiliate yourself for me.”
“Yes,” Amity groans, wet out of her mind, rutting her cunt desperately against the vibe even as she tries to stop. “Sir. If you leave it up mgonnacum. Please.”
Victoria turns it down again and waits for Amity to say something. Amity goes limp against her bonds and tries to think, her brain leaking out through her cunt.
“I would let you do anything to me,” she groans. “Anything. V I can’t think of anything else please let me come.”
Victoria frowns and crosses her arms. “I know you have more,” she demands. “I know you can think of something else you wanna beg me for. Your dirty little brain has come up with so much.”
“No,” Amity whines. “I can’t, I can’t. I need it so bad. Please.”
Victoria doesn’t say anything, just taps her foot, sole clicking against the bed frame. Amity knows she’s not gonna let her. She’ll be lucky if she lets her even if she thinks of a million more things to say. She doesn’t know how she can be good enough.
“Anything, really,” she tries again, desperately. “You could tie me up however you wanted, or, or, or make me wear a collar, or choke me on a plastic cock just to make me suffer…I don’t—”
“I think you don’t want to come,” Victoria interrupts, standing up suddenly, pacing to lean over Amity. “You’re not giving me what you want.”
“I do!” Amity wails. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Hmm,” Victoria says. “Can I touch you? Can I hit you?” They hadn’t talked about that before the scene. Amity nods desperately.
“Please,” she says.
Victoria grabs her by the hair and hits her hard across the face. Amity shrieks and then whimpers desperately. “Oh, fuck,” she babbles. “Please please more.”
Victoria just shakes Amity’s head a little, back and forth like a ragdoll, and laughs. “I think you want this more than you want to come,” she says. “Is that right?”
Oh, god. Yes, Amity thinks, she is right. It sets a bright fire in her stomach. She wants to come, but she needs, all of a sudden, the pain, for Victoria to make her ownership concrete. It’s humiliating for her to want that. She does want it, though. She’s desperate for it.
“Please,” she says again. She looks up at Victoria. She feels the sting of the red handprint on her cheek. She’s so aware of the ropes holding her arms tightly behind her, of her utter powerlessness.
Victoria looks at her, and her brown eyes are fucking glowing, her grin barely hidden. Amity can see the muscles quirked in her face. “Ask for it,” she says.
Amity tears her eyes away. “Please hurt me more,” she says.
“And?” Victoria prompts.
Amity racks her brain. She feels particularly stupid right now. She’s wet and all she wants is to come and the low vibration under her is just enough to make her slowly lose her mind.
Then she realizes.
“And, and don’t let me come,” she breathes. She looks up at Victoria. Victoria grins back at her, her face alight with victory, and Amity knows that was the right answer.
“Please hurt me and don’t let me come,” she repeats, more confidently.
“Good girl,” Victoria says. She turns the vibrator up again.
For one blissful moment Amity sighs, sinks down against it. It feels so fucking good. It feels like her whole body is filling with warmth, pleasure radiating out from her pussy. She rocks against it a little, and then she realizes that if it keeps going it’s going to make her come.
“Oh,” she moans, panic and helpless arousal in equal measure. “Oh, fuck, please, please don’t let me come, please hurt me instead.” Her predicament falls into place in her brain like a row of perfect dominoes. Victoria is always, always smarter, can always control her. She’s so stupid. It just makes her wetter. She’s fucked.
“Oh, sweetie,” Victoria says. “You knew how this works. When you do what I want I turn it up. It’s easy to remember. Right? You knew that?”
“Yes,” Amity moans. God, it’s so hot being patronized. She feels small and stupid. It’s easy. Of course she should remember it.
“Good. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned. Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” Amity parrots, unthinking, and Victoria turns it up again, because of course she does. Amity just barely hangs on. She’s so close so close so close. “Fuckk, please, please don’t. Please don’t make me.”
“Look at me,” Victoria says, ignoring her, and when Amity doesn’t obey she grabs her hair at the crown of her head and makes her. Amity moans a short little ah. “If you come that’s it. You’re done. If you want me to hurt you more you don’t fucking come.”
“I know!” Amity wails. “I don’t wanna, please turn it off, please don’t make me!” She’s squirming hard against the vibrator. Her thighs are tied open and down so securely that she can’t get away. When she meets Victoria’s eyes she’s pleading, panicking, tears of frustration almost welling over. Her breath comes in short gasps. She’s completely, ridiculously helpless against the pleasure.
“It’s up to you,” Victoria says, calm, meeting Amity’s gaze. She sees the panic and frustration and she ignores it. Amity lets out a hiccupping sob. Pressure building, building inside her. She can’t hold it. She can’t stop it.
“Sir,” she groans. “Please. Please, I’m gonna.”
“Yeah?” Victoria says. “That’s a good girl.”
“Fuck,” Amity gasps, as she feels the dam begin to break, the tingling, numbing warmth crawl up her tummy. “Oh, fuck, I— oh, godohmygodsirmcoming. Fuck!”
“That’s it,” Victoria says, still holding Amity by the hair, holding her gaze even as Amity’s eyes flutter with the effort of keeping them open. “Can’t even control yourself, can you. My dumb slut.”
“Oh my god,” Amity groans. It’s still going. She feels the electricity all the way down her legs, calves tensing, toes curling. Her cunt is agonizingly oversensitive. She can actually feel it pulsing against the toy. And the vibrations just keep her suspended there. It keeps going until she breaks past numbness and it hurts so much that she thrashes in Victoria’s grip. Then Victoria finally, mercifully, switches the vibrator off.
In the sudden quiet, Amity pants. She hangs from Victoria’s hand. Her cunt aches. She feels completely drained, empty.
Finally, gently, Victoria lets go of Amity’s hair. She lets her head relax. Victoria combs through Amity’s hair with her hand. Her nails scratch gently over her scalp. Amity sighs.
She moves around to start working on the knots that bind Amity’s arms. A few seconds pass, and Amity speaks.
“That was, um,” she says. “Unexpected.”
Victoria laughs gently. “I guess so,” she says. “What did you think?”
“I don’t know,” Amity says. “I’m still all…” She tips her head, not able to gesture with her arms just yet. “But, good. Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good,” Victoria says. “We have a lot of…stuff to talk about. I think—”
“Maybe in a minute?” Amity interrupts. “I just came so hard I thought I was gonna pass out.”
“Oh,” says Victoria, startled. “Right. Of course.” She ducks her head and concentrated on undoing Amity’s bonds.
Amity relaxes her neck. Her head falls back, over the edge of the chair, so she’s staring at the ceiling. She feels Victoria’s clever fingers brushing against her skin as she works. She’s surprised at herself. It’s not like her to interrupt, and the words I just came so hard might have never left her mouth before. Probably she’s so exhausted she’s just not thinking. Or maybe Victoria’s permanently loosened something inside her.
It doesn’t matter. Victoria finishes the first knot and pulls the rope off, in a long, slow drag. Amity flexes her wrists. Either way, she feels good.