Bound to the Turnings of the Wheel

The laces had been loosening further just due to the motion of Isari's arms reaching through, and the dress' wearer's light rocking under the attention her breast were receiving. The bodice slid down in front at this point, and would have slid down further if Isari's arms in the back hadn't been holding it up. Mistress Lanfear brought her own hands up and put them on top of Isari's, stilling them for a moment. She turned and looked over her shoulder. "You have a beautiful mind, Isari. You gave me a window into it years ago, and I loved every view. I'm loving having a VIP seat inside it even more. The way you respond to the collar, to the belt, and most importantly, to me putting them on you, to me doing what I've always dreamed of doing to you—if I literally die tonight, everything I've had to do to get to this point will have been worth it."

"Mistress ..."

"... but I don't intend to die tonight, and if I do, I don't intend for it to be of frustration. Get me?"

The sound that came from Isari's lips was something between a chuckle and a sigh. But she slid her hands slowly back along the sides of her mistress' breasts, then under her arms, and back to the remaining laces. A few more pulls and the bodice dropped free, and Mistress Lanfear's naked back was exposed. Isari nibbled the newly-exposed flesh, then worked her way up to the curve on the side of her mistress' neck. "Mistress," she whispered. "You can't leave me hanging like that. This isn't over."

Mistress Lanfear shuddered, closed her eyes and inclined her head back slightly. "I promise I won't," she said. "But I've needed this since even before I got that collar on you. And the inside of your mind is a fucking aphrodisiac."

"I live to please, Mistress." With that, she brought the bodice slowly down around her mistress' body, ready to help her step free of it.

At this point, Mistress Lanfear had to take off the bracelet for a moment to slide her arm free of the sleeve of the sul'dam dress. It was only for the briefest of moments, but for those briefest of moments, the connection between them was broken. She was drawing her hands slowly up and down her mistress' arms at that moment, helping slide the sleeves of the sul'dam dress off, and there was no matching sensation on her own arms. The sudden loss of the overlay of Mistress Lanfear's sensorium on her own brought home something to Isari. Oh, God, I'm addicted. First dose and I'm a complete and total addict. I want it back.

The other woman snapped the bracelet closed around her wrist a moment later, and Isari purred contentedly as the connection was restored. If her hands hadn't been back on her mistress' waist at that moment, she might have missed the intake of breath, and she smiled knowingly at the raven-haired woman's back. Mistress Lanfear had missed the connection, too. Isari wasn't sure if the bracelet could at all distinguish between feelings she tried to hide and feelings that she didn't, but just in case, she let that contentment fill her mind, broadcasting it down the link. Missed you for a whole four seconds there.

Whether it helped or not, Mistress Lanfear felt the emotion through the link. "You know, in the books, the sul'dam called it being complete, when they wore the bracelet connecting them to a damane. I kind of get that now."

"Pretty sure none of the ones in the books used the a'dam like this."

"Their loss."

"No kidding."

The dress finally fell free and pooled around Mistress Lanfear's ankles, and she stood there now in all her dark, pale, and perfect glory, wearing nothing but her calf-length heeled boots and the bracelet with the leash attached. She, too, had either waxed for the occasion, or shaved recently and well. The glisten of her arousal was plain to see, and to breathe. She stepped out of the pool of fabric and over to the armchair, where she settled down and extended one leg. "Kiss it as you take it off," she commanded.

Isari knelt, and even just being in this position, kneeling before her mistress' chair like it was a throne, Mistress Lanfear seated there like a queen, if not a goddess, sent the familiar heat spiking in her pussy, and it clenched around the intruder held firmly within. It and its little brother on the other side had made their presence felt keenly as she had lowered herself into a kneeling position.

She kissed the sumptuous black leather, beginning with the toe and working her way up, once, twice, then several more times as she eased it off her mistress' leg.

She kept kissing the boot even after it was all the way off, too.

"Um, Isari, hello?"

"Can't help it, Mistress, this is legit Christian Louboutin. Ow!" Another cattle-prod shock, this time on the soles of her feet. She gave a coquettish pout, then smiled. "Worth it," she continued.

"Mmm-hmm. Focus." Mistress Lanfear extended her other leg, and Isari turned to kneel facing that leg and then repeated the trail of kisses, this time without the extracurriculars at the end. As she was doing so, the seated woman continued, "but I do understand the distraction."

This time, when the boot came off, Isari set it to one side, then turned back to the seated woman's leg and began kissing her way up. She slowed down now, not just because of the powerfully distracting sensation of kissing up and down her own leg mirrored and doubled through the a'dam, though that was strong enough. She was unmistakably getting closer to the main event at this point, and the mere thought of that would have been driving her to distraction even without her lower holes plugged and sealed away. The fire in her muscles and blood was burning hotter again, and the little sparks of erotic lightning danced almost continuously along every nerve around her tits and pussy, and even her fingers where they touched her mistress' leg. She was building up to another power surge.

Something occurred to her at that moment that she had been dancing around in her mind for a while now, since not long after Mistress Lanfear had put the chastity belt on her. She had been both scared and excited by the thought of having her mistress have complete control over her private areas, of her ability to orgasm, and while that was kind of true, the power of the a'dam put a huge asterisk over it. The belt isn't orgasm denial at all! Not completely, anyway. Apparently that's for normie kinksters. Maybe I can't get myself off now, but belt or no belt, I'm going to feel double what Mistress does—and she is starving for this, maybe almost as badly as I was going almost a year without.

Mistress Lanfear apparently felt something through the a'dam. Isari had continued her trail of kisses and caresses and had reached the side of the seated woman's knee. Suddenly, though, she felt a soft jerk on the leash, and followed the unspoken command, rising up from kneeling seated on her heels to kneeling upright and leaning forward, her head rising to just short of the hollow between the raven-haired woman's breasts. "What's on your mind, damane?"

"These, now, Mistress," Isari answered, and without another word, stretched her torso out just another inch or two to bring her mouth down on the areola other woman's left breast.

The surge of sensation within her own breast as she did so was so powerful that she almost collapsed, but she had braced herself for it, and her dancer's torso was equal to the task for the moment. Nevertheless, a gasping moan muffled to a sensuous hum burst forth from her lips, with Mistress Lanfear's breast in them. Then that sensuous vibration was mirrored and doubled on her own nipple. Her pussy clenched again around the dildo inside her, and she squirmed and shuddered, and in the momentary spasm, her teeth gently grazed the engorged tip of her mistress' nipple. That was mirrored and doubled as well, and she finally came up for air, panting. She felt a headache begin to form in the back of her mind, and spots even danced over her vision for a second, but after what had just happened in the last hour, the headaches didn't threaten the way they had. They didn't even hurt quite the way they had.

"And this," she added, sliding a finger teasingly around the lips of Mistress Lanfear's shaved slit. Even around the outside, there was still moisture: sweat, and more. A harder spasm took her, and she braced her left hand on the front of the arm of the armchair even as her right hand continued to slide up and down around the smooth edges of her mistress' sex. Her hips gyrated in the belt with less and less control every second, the discomfort of the tight metal and the intruders meaningless against the surrender they signified. "Oh God, oh Go ... eeep!"

More shocks, this time at the base of her throat, the back of her neck, again on her buttocks, and even one against her tender rosebud.

"I can feel you getting close. No jumping ahead this time, babygirl. We cum together."

"Please, Mistress, please! I'm ... so ... close ... eeyaah!" The collar's phantom-but-all-too-real shocks came again, harder, and the tsunami of pleasure and pain carried Isari deep back into subspace. With a silent flip of her head to get her hair out of the way, she half flowed, half melted down Mistress Lanfear's stomach, and her tongue found the sweet and spicy taste of her mistress' slit again, for the first time in years. It was like coming home after an unexpectedly long and dark journey.

"Oh, there's my girl," Mistress Lanfear breathed. "There's the good girl I remember."

Isari melted even further at the praise, and with the sense of an invisible mouth—her own invisible mouth—eating her out even within the steel embrace of the chastity belt, the magma danced along every inch of her skin. It felt so close to the surface that she was amazed that her skin wasn't glowing.

Wait. Mistress Lanfear's skin was glowing. A faint, translucent, crystalline electric blue radiance seemed to bubble up from within her and evaporate from the surface of her skin like steam. And her hair was again lifting up and away from her shoulders as if she were holding her face just barely underwater.

A moment later, the faint corner of Isari's mind that was capable of perceiving anything other than her mistress' desire at the moment noted that her own skin was indeed glowing, too, as if a stream of golden magma was indeed held back by nothing but the top layer of her skin. The erotic electric tingles swept up from her plugged orifices, up and down her back, and she felt her own hair begin to float off her shoulders, full of static and caught in an invisible wind. The vast majority of her mind filed this information away as inconsequential, though, as her subspace-narrowed attention focused overwhelmingly on the shrine of need in front of her, that needed the worship of her tongue. She flicked and she jabbed and she teased, and repeated it in every order, responding to a rhythm of summers past that she had never forgotten, could never have forgotten. Mistress Lanfear sent another shock to slow her down through the collar, and it only served as a scintillating reminder of the beautiful thing that her mistress had made just for her, the only one in the world. The shocks slowed her down like a speedbump in front of a tank.

Fortunately, Mistress Lanfear didn't need to slow her down that much at this point.

"That's ... my ... gggiiiiiiirrl!" Mistress Lanfear bucked and undulated in her chair as the orgasm took her.

And, without fail, the collar encircling Isari's throat mirrored and doubled the sensation in her. Only moments later, the mirrored stimulation on her clit sent her separately over the edge of her own orgasm.

From Mistress Lanfear, the radiance blazed forth like a beacon unveiled, pulsing but stable and firm, now every color of blue from powder to midnight, flecked with argent and pure white.

But within Isari, the two storm cells merged, her own orgasm with the overlay of her mistress' on top of it, both felt all the way to her core, and the combined vortex screamed for release. Isari threw back her head and screamed with them. Prismatic energy surged out from her in all directions, still perhaps tinged more golden than any other color, but no longer merely flecked with other colors and no more just stirring in a gentle pool beneath them. Both the collar and the chastity belt blazed silver-white, and she could feel them straining on the prismatic tsunami, bounding it, channeling it, trying to hold it back.

Mistress Lanfear staggered momentarily to her feet, drunk with power and emotion now as her VIP seat in Isari's mind turned out to be a seat in a whitewater raft on rapids that normies were never allowed to attempt. She collapsed to her knees next to Isari, and then physically threw Isari to the carpet. A moment later, she was lying there as well, limbs entwining with Isari's, the leash tangled in the pile. Isari returned the tangled embrace with willing abandon. The storm raged on.

The blue radiance from Mistress Lanfear flexed and rose, first in a pillar of coherent, almost solid light, then fanning out like liquid and descending to form a blue dome maybe as high as the fireplace over them. Isari's eyes widened as the blazing prismatic flood still erupting from her in all directions was now trapped inside the dome with them. The surging energy seemed to recognize that it was trapped as much as the woman emitting it, and erupted with renewed vigor. Isari screamed in ecstasy, and convulsed in Mistress Lanfear's arms as the front of the new wave burst forth. Bright hairline cracks formed in the dome and spread.

"It's not going to ..." hold, she was about to say, but whether through the a'dam or just throwing knew, her mistress read her mind.

"It doesn't need to!"

The dome shattered. And there was no living room beyond it. They still somehow lay on the small circular section of floor, but that was now a platform suspended in nothingness, in everythingness, an endless expanse that might have been black, except that it was full of streaming trails of mists and clouds and whirling balls of light, some of one color, some of many. More than that, there was the unmistakable sense of presence there, of life, of will, somehow all around even if unseen.

Isari still writhed and screamed as her double orgasm went on, and the impossible energy streamed forth. Now, however, it had somewhere to go—infinite, and home. Isari was the birth of a prismatic star in the alien expanse, the energy now flaring off of her as light, now spraying forth as mist, now pouring forth as water off the edge of the tiny circular platform of the living room floor and into the world beyond. And from the ethereal constellation of mists and lights and other extraordinary phenomena, there came a barrage of thoughts, like a clamor of voices or musical notes that only the soul could hear. Joy. Anticipation. Hunger. Laughter. Envy. And many a contented sigh.

Mistress Lanfear now rose to a sitting position. Among other things, the low wooden toybox had been within the circle of the dome. A quick gesture, and two things flew from within it to hover just in front of her. The first, a panel-style gag with a rubberized phallus on the inside. At this point, Isari couldn't even pretend to be surprised that her mistress owned such a thing, but she couldn't believe the woman had thought of it now of all times. The second, a small plate, smaller than a saucer, of whatever strange silvery alloy formed the collar and belt that now held Isari inescapably in their grip.

"M ... mi ..." Isari couldn't even pant the full word. All this had happened in less than twenty seconds, and her multi-orgasm had maybe only just barely descended from its peak. She could feel through the collar that Mistress Lanfear was still in the midst of her orgasm, too! How the woman could concentrate at all in the midst of this was mindboggling.

The gag darted over through the air, and the feel of a lashing whip across Isari's back made her cry out just as the phallic plug reached her mouth. "Mmmhhrrrmm!" The squeak was thoroughly muffled as the plug settled into place, and the leather panel wrapped tightly around her lower face, from just below her nose to more than halfway down her chin. The straps running from the sides of the panel, which were meant to go around the sides and top of the head of their prisoner, as well as under her chin, stayed flapping loose on the floor around her. The panel was held in place by the power of Mistress Lanfear's mind alone.

"Keep cumming, Isari! Let there be legends written about this!"

"MmmRRRRUUUUUUHH!" Her pussy and ass contracted mightily again against the dildo and plug as she writhed around them, and if anything, the loss of her voice again sent her back to the summit. Her orgasm rolled on.

Narrow, controlled flows of the pulsing blue energy descended and hovered in a ring of spokes around the plate. Then far thicker, wilder, gyrating flows of the prismatic energy joined them, and together they surged into the plate, which glowed and seemed to soften in midair. A thin layer of blue energy stretched out over one side of it.

Mistress Lanfear leaned down to the woman on the ground again. "Close your eyes," she whispered fiercely. Isari complied, still moaning wildly in helpless ecstasy around the gag and sucking in air through her nose. A moment later, she felt the half-molten plate pressing down on the panel that already covered her lips.

Her eyes flew open, and she reflexively tried to struggle and spit the gag free, but it would not budge. Her initial fear lasted only seconds, even though she trusted that her mistress would not willingly harm her, it was terrifying to think of molten metal being so close to her skin. Except the warmth was nothing more than she might have felt lying on her back on the beach on a sunny day. With that initial fear fled, she took another breath and closed her eyes again, shutting out the alien world around them, filing that with everything else that she could ask later after she had ridden this incredible experience as far as her body and soul could handle. With her eyes closed and that endless alien vista momentarily blocked out, she suddenly realized what Mistress Lanfear had just done.

It's from the show! In the middle of a fucking orgasm, not even half a day after the finale came out, she literally just forged a copy of the metal panel gags the damane were wearing in the show! Except that this one is no prop!

Liquid fire spread across her left nipple, and her eyes shot open again to see Mistress Lanfear's mouth suckling gently on her nipple. Another helpless, unintelligible moan burst from her, and she sucked in another wild breath through her nose. And just as the a'dam let her locked-away clit feel the same attention given to Mistress Lanfear's clit, her lips now tasted the taste of her own breasts in her mistress' mouth. The sensation was intoxicating, though also tender, for which she was grateful, because she wasn't sure how much more she could take.

The prismatic energy continued to flow, though she could see the sheer volume of it was less now than it had been, and she could feel herself beginning to descend further from the peak. It was a long, languid, glorious descent. Mistress Lanfear's gentle teasing of her nipples gave way to another round of entwined petting, and from there to quiet cuddling. The silver-and-white-flecked blue radiance emanating from the raven-haired woman faded, and maybe a few minutes later, the prismatic eruption from Isari herself slowed to a trickle and went out. As this was happening, the endless illuminated expanse faded. The living room of the Sherwood Forest house appeared first as a translucent image superimposed over the alien realm, and gradually fading back into reality. The only thing that stood as a testament to what had just happened was the new panel gag, which despite no straps at all—Mistress Lanfear had severed them with her mind at some point during the glide in for a landing—Isari could not spit free of her mouth.