Amorous Goods: It Began with Bolt-Cutters

She glanced sharply at another book on the coffee table drawing his eye to it as she murmured, "I don't believe in magic. You...I mean people in general will come across phenomena that they don't understand..." She trailed off.

Sean's gaze remained on the other book; it looked very old.

"Go ahead and look at it, Sean," she softly commented. She moved towards her entertainment system as he sat next to it and carefully opened it.

"What is the writing?" he'd seen it before somewhere.

"Celtic," she replied without looking.

As he flipped through the pages, he jerked recognizing the knot style on his cuffs in a drawing. The subservient status of those wearing them was undeniable. Glancing at Bridget, who was clicking through the display screen looking for some music to play, he smiled. Belonging to his mistress wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all. As he stared at the pictures, he realized that none of the people shown had the exact design he wore. He couldn't find the exact style.

"The cuffs you are wearing should be banned," Bridget softly commented joining him.

He couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, asking, "You can't get them off?"

"Not without causing a lot of other problems," she haltingly replied, rubbing her neck.

He spent the rest of the evening flipping through the book, sipping some more of her wonderful tea, chatting with her about astronomy, and glancing at her lips.

When it was time to go he said, "Give me a hug," adding, "And when can I see you again?"

As she hugged him, he pulled her tight letting her feel his still stiff hard-on. Again he felt the hard small object tucked in her waistband somewhere. Sensing it shifted the power between them, pulling her under his control. He could feel it.

"Give me the weekend, okay?" she haltingly replied.

When he released her, her fingers covered her lips as if she said something she didn't mean to. "Just dream of me and remember you promised," he rumbled.

Nervously, she smiled.

As she showered, he rubbed himself. He shuddered simply touching himself, releasing a pressurized jet, but as her shower continued, lasting longer, he felt a larger orgasm loom. For a moment, when her feet paused and all he could hear was water, he erupted a second time. He had no idea what she had planned for the weekend, but he was looking forward to it.

The next evening Sean listened to her come home. When she shortly left again, he went to the hallway window to watch her as she walked out of their building. With surprise, he saw her simply walk towards the coffee shop instead of her car. Wherever she was going was local. Back inside his apartment listening for her return, he grew more disturbed as the evening slowly set in. Finally, he left to follow her steps in the reddish light.

Frowning, he stopped at the building next to the coffee shop recognizing Bard's car. Worried, he walked around the building in the twilight. Several voices could be heard on one side of the building. He couldn't understand their words, but he distinguished his mistress' tones among them.

"Ei losgi i lawr," [1] a male voice urged.

"...pan-dimensional Gargoyles, ffŵl," [2] replied his Bridget.

"Ddal..." [3] began Bard.

Sean stepped away and scanned the building again. One set of doors was more frequently used than another, so he moved to sit in a hedge nearby to wait for Bridget's emergence. She was the last to leave. And it was because Bard was holding her back.

Once alone as far as they knew, Bard pausing talking and moved to kiss Bridget. Sean furiously watched the attempt, but didn't want them to know he'd found their secret meeting location.

She blocked Bard with a hand across his mouth, saying "No." Then in their language, "Mae gan fy anifail anwes a fi gytundeb." [4]

"Mae'n gymaint o anifail anwes ag arth, Bridget," [5] Bard snapped back.

"I don't want a boyfriend," she said.

"You don't want me." he swore and stormed off. At the last moment he yelled, "A all eich anifail anwes fod yn berchen arnoch!" [6]

Bridget shuddered as a burst of air fluttered her hair blowing Sean's direction, bringing her scent to him. Which triggered an instant orgasm.

Sean waited until she had left and then returned home reflecting that he really, really needed to fuck her. No, it was more than that. He wasn't comfortable until he paused on entering his apartment and could hear her move above. Then he quickly showered and listened as she moved. He was furious that Bard had tried to take her from him. She hadn't told him everything. She'd obviously gone to the stupid shop and gotten the stupid key, but she hadn't offered to free him and he hadn't asked liking her having that power over him a little too much. She said it would cause more problems. She didn't want a boyfriend. So she wasn't thinking of him long term. That really irked and wasn't going to stand. With two days before his weekend with her, he decided to go revisit the stupid shop.

Sean walked into Amorous Goods scowling. The shopkeep was gone but an attractive female was behind the counter instead. Shifting his expression to a more neutral look, he asked her, "Where's the guy that works here?" Looking down, he spotted her pregnant bulge. Picturing his Bridget in the same state triggered an answering bulge in his pants. She would then be his. An idea formed for his plans.

"Damon?" she called.

The irritatingly smiling shopkeeper appeared. "Ah! Expected you back, slave. Interested in perusing our stock perhaps?" Divided between punching his face over the 'slave' comment or demanding an accounting, Sean was on the verge of saying 'no' when the jerk continued, "We have more Celtic artifacts that you might particularly enjoy." His eyes were on his wife's baby bump as he spoke the last part.

Time momentarily stopped for Sean, electrical anticipation drew up just out of reach. "Sure." he replied. Chuckling, Damon opened a cabinet and lifted out a velvet shelf, setting it on the counter. A bracelet, female sized, caught Sean's eye. When he reached out and touched it, the air around him shifted, and he could distinctly scent his mistress' arousal. Snagging it, he held it reverently in his hand.

Damon laughed and rang up the charge. Passing the bracelet's key to Vikki, he had her hand it to Sean inside an envelope. "The young man you were with before was not very smart," she murmured to him. Sean paused, the question on his lips, but then decided that he really didn't care. Bridget was his. That was all that mattered.

When he closed his mouth, Damon, smirking, observed, "Very wise of you, slave."

Sean sneered at him briefly then headed out. When he was just short of the door, Damon called, "Your mistress is lovely. Melt the keys together if you want to keep her; impregnating her alone doesn't do it."

Sean paused. Then looked back at Damon. His arm was possessively around Vikki, who was waving at him.

On his way back home, Sean stopped at the maker space to check out a microfurnace. As he waited for the equipment to be packed up, he practiced locking the bracelet around Bridget-wrist-sized items one-handed.

Sean arrived home to find a note on his door. 'Come up when you return.'

Frowning, he put down his materials, palmed the bracelet, and then practiced one more time securing it one-handed around a nearby pole. Content that he could do it with ease now, he slipped it into his pocket, and then headed upstairs.

On knocking, he didn't wait long for Bridget to appear and usher him in. Her facial expression shifted between a spectrum of emotions so fast, he could only tell that she was perturbed.

"I was thinking about this weekend," she began, "How about if you just come by for a few hours on Saturday and a few hours on Sunday?"

Sean didn't answer her until she lifted her eyes from his chest letting him read her. She was conflicted, nervous, strongly attracted to him, worried, a little scared, and uncertain. Sensing through their odd connection that the argument with Bard had deeply unsettled her, he asked, "When are you planning to let me go?"

Bridget inhaled sharply, and hesitated.

"Bridget," he growled, letting her know he wasn't going to stop neither the inquiry nor his pursuit.

She stumbled over her words, "Um..the, the woman possessing the key to your cuffs who, who, um..makes love to you..will, will own you."

Sean's eyes flashed, registering that no one else would own him...only HIS Bridget, "What is your role in all of this?" He slipped his hands in his pockets.

She sensed danger, but with his hands secured, she felt safe enough. "I'm trying to teach you, to um, distinguish what a woman possessing the key can do to you."

"Are you giving me the key, when you tire of me?" His hand concealed in his pocket, he carressed the bracelet it held. Not yet.

Not answering immediately, realizing HOW she answered was critical, Bridget was starting to think that the weekend plan was not a good idea when Sean's arms came out of his pockets and penned her against the nearby wall. "I can't..I would have to give it to your, your chosen woman," she blurted.

Sean narrowed his eyes as he slowly lowered his hands. He then grasped each of her hands in his own and rumbled, "What if my chosen woman is right here?"

Bridget's heart was beating rapidly. Heat suffused her frame. She started to shake her head when Sean leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. As she kissed him back, he pressed into her, a sensation that never failed to weaken her. Secured against him with the wall against her back, he lifted her arms above her head. She didn't resist, the power between them somehow reversing, but she was impressed by how much stronger he was than her. Slipping his tongue into her mouth, he claimed her, distracting her from the fact that her arms were now held up by one of his hands instead of both.

Sean broke the kiss when he pulled the key free from the lock to her bracelet. HIS bracelet was now locked around HER wrist. The sensation of his success sent him close to bursting, and he reveled as his woman shuddered with her own orgasm, the first of many he would give her, as he stared into her eyes.

Bridget inhaled sharply realizing she'd lost control. "Sean," she couldn't help the arousal coloring her tone, "Release me." As he followed her request, she began, "I think maybe we should cancel..." Sean's expression looked unaccountably pleased. Then she registered the change. Looking down, she spotted a bracelet around her own wrist. "What did you do?" Her orgasm...it had been triggered.

"I don't know," he rumbled slipping the key to her bracelet into his pocket. "I just know you're mine."

She stared at the bracelet he'd put on her. It was a marriage knot on a tree...children. Irked, she gazed back up at him narrowing her eyes. "Take a seat against the wall, my surly bear. It's time I taught you a few things." she ordered.

Sean's eyes flashed. "I need to shower," he argued.

She needed to martial her thoughts. "Hurry back then."

Sean spun, leaving her apartment abruptly, ignoring her sharp intake of breath. Quickly showering, he rapidly returned...with his microfurnace in hand.

On his return, Bridget ignored the package he brought assuming it would be more food. Instead of offering to make another 'meal' of him, she ordered him to strip and sit in his chair. Hoping she didn't recognize the furnace, he argued again, "We need to lock our keys in this safe first." He pulled it free from its packaging.

With a shaking hand, she carefully withdrew the key to his cuffs from her waistband. "I need to put it in there, myself. You can't touch it."

Sean held out the furnace accepting the key. Then pulling out his key to her bracelet from his own pocket, he dropped it inside with hers, secured the top, then set the cycle to begin.

Sean happily stripped, handing his clothes to Bridget as he did so. Her eyes were wide watching him. Walking to the chair, he sat. "You secure me, my mistress." He rumbled. Putting his clothes down on the couch, Bridget approached cautiously. Kneeling down, she gazed as his erection. Sean smiled as she secured his legs licking her lips unconsciously. Taking his arm and latching up the cuff, Bridget briefly brushed her lips against his. As she secured his other arm, she allowed her breast to hover in reach of his mouth. Sean took the opportunity, and latched his mouth on her breast tonguing through her clothing. Bridget pulled away and kissed him. Tingles surged through him as her mouth opened to him. "You need to get naked," Sean suggested.

Pausing, Bridget murmured, "Your fixation was made when I cut the chain between your cuffs that day when we first met."

Sean shook his head. "It was when you came down the ladder."

Bridget looked at him surprised.

"Get naked, and you'll hear more."

"I need to shower," she murmured.

"I can help with that," Sean offered, tugging on his restraints.

Bridget shook her head. "I know where your head is, Sean. I'll be quick."

And she was. His erection throbbed watching her strip. Then watching her emerge in a towel, he growled, "Take it off, my mistress."

Bridget's eyebrows shot up. "You need to earn it, my bear."

Sean growled and pulled on his restraints testing them.

Bridget humphed, and pulled down a scarf from one of the nearby hooks.

Sean relaxed, in a sense. As his mistress took control, he could sense it, everything right settling inside. Then he felt her lips on his neck. He inhaled deeply, smiling. Her lips brushed his own whispering, "If the fixation didn't begin with my breaking the chain, then what was it you fixated on?"

Lips shifted to his nipple. He gasped. "I saw the outline of your vulva as you climbed down." Her teeth pinched. "Was going to come back to you regardless."

"Hmmm. Hold that thought." Her touch disappeared for a bit. Steps. A clink. Some pouring. He sniffed. A faint scent of smoke drifted by. The non-metal coatings on the keys was carbonized.

Then she returned. Her soft fingers rubbed vegetable oil into his aroused nipple. "The nature of your cuffs is called a teeter-totter. If I have sex with you, then I will own you." Her touch switched to his other nipple, "If I give you the key to unlock the cuffs, then you will own me."

"Ah, ha." He shifted uncomfortably when her fingers dropped to his inner thigh, just brushing his testicle so gently he thought he imagined it. Tugging on his arms, he checked to see if he could get free. Not that way. "Tell me about the store." And touch me.

Her fingers shifted to caressing up and down his form, from his feet to his head and back down. "That store you degenerates found is...hmm...been taken over by pan-..."

"...dimensional gargoyles" he finished with her.

Her fingers stilled and she whispered, "Like this?" Then they swept up his erection. "Tell me how you knew."

"Goddess, yes," he answered as her fingers, touched his erection, "I followed you." And she kept on touching. He twitched under her caress. "To your meeting." Her finger swept into the pre-cum easing from the tip. "It was getting too late."

"Ceiling of the apartment downstairs too quiet?" she surmised how he knew.

He nodded and shifted his hips. The teasing touch was making him crazy. He pulled on his restraints again, this time checking how they were installed. Load bearing. Nuts. "When that friend of yours tried to kiss you, I'd never been so mad in my life."

Bridget's fingers involuntarily grasped his girth. He thrust into her grip. This teasing, keeping him on edge, was making him crazy. He wanted his arms free. He wanted to thrust into her, erupt, and then do it again, and again and again. "That emotional buzzing in your head is the Celtic technology."

The microfurnace announced its complete cycle. He rumbled, "My head's buzzing, because I'm not letting you go."

"That's supposed to be my line." Bridget was breathing harder and took some oil to massage his feet. The sensation only served to leave him on a plateau of anticipation.

He smiled, the victorious predator. "Our keys are in a melted pool of slag right now. I had us put them in a microfurnace and turned it on." The squeak of surprise she made was priceless. "You might have me restrained this way, right now, but I've got you locked down in my own way." The need to take her intensified. Somewhere in the back of his head he remembered there was something important about the latches she was using to secure his cuffs to the wall.

"I was joking about the uppity-bottom thing. Sean..." she sighed, "I want you to know that I will cherish and protect you." Then the contoured texture of her tongue swept across his glans. A tiny orgasm bubbled coating the tip with sperm.

"And that's my line," he murmured.

With a slight amount of rustling, he sensed her touching his lips. Slipping his tongue against her finger, he discovered it wasn't a finger. It was her nipple. Opening his mouth, he sucked the protruding flesh into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue.

His mistress' voice from above his head infused with lust, "The bracelet you put on me is one for weddings. That damn gargoyle sealed your fate. And mine." She panted.

With a soft pop, she pulled back. "Take me," he pleaded. He needed to bind her more, she had resisted too much to keeping him. "No condom. Bare." He was shaking with tiny orgasms. A tiny fountain of ejaculate was coming out of him.

"You're so slick," she commented descending. He didn't correct her. Her labia touched the tip, and Sean gritted his teeth, grasping the edges of this state of arousal. "Tell me when you're about to burst."

Sean nodded breaching her core as she lowered, sweet, soul-snatching, pressure squeezed and surrounded him. Heat and joy suffused him. With his new, discovered, orgasmic state, he locked on to the sensation and maintained the regular release from his testicles into her. He tugged on his cuffs for leverage to thrust into her, for that extra sensation of all the wonderful flexing moving down his length.

"Mistress mine," he declared as she moved on him. Slowly, the small fountain of ejaculate strengthened. When she bottomed out, he made sure to thrust slightly to kiss her cervix with the tip, fighting the urge to jet into her. After a small eternity, he sensed the fountain ease, yet he was still powerfully aroused. "Faster," he moaned. She complied. Her fingers caressed his skin between them as she began to rub herself. A few minutes later he realized that he was ready to orgasm again. "I'm close again," he murmured.

"That's my line," she panted. "Can you hold on a little longer?"

He chuckled, "I meant, I already came. But this time am ready to really burst."

She stopped moving on him. Then after a bit of heavy breathing she started rubbing herself and swore, "You diabolical..now I don't regret refusing to give you the key at all."

Sean grunted, "Owned." Whether he meant her or himself didn't matter. As she approached the brink, her muscles squeezed him beautifully, her breathing shot through his body, then he was in mindless bliss. As she tightened on him, released, tightened, released, he melted into space and time and jetted as he pressed deeper into her as her muscles loosened. The last release let him lock into place against her cervix where he erupted in an orgasm that washed through him rendering him insensible of anything but the pleasure conquering his system.

His awareness returned with a burst of physical light entering his white-out space. He squinted his eyes to see his precious Bridget's chagrin. "Apparently, I need to teach you more control, my pet."

Sean smiled, he felt like a content, lumbering bear, desirous of nothing more than a back scratch, some food, and another session of mind-blowing sex. "I'll consider cooperating, so long as you stay in my den."