Fade to Blink - A Quantum Date Ch. 01

Marybeth looked me straight in the eyes, unblinking. Waiting.

"Fuck, Marybeth. I'm okay now...I mean...I'm not, even if I didn't have this cage around me..."

"He's edging you...?" She stopped as John brought our plates. I glanced up to see his mouth set in a prim smile.

"Oh, give it up, John. It's not like your boyfriends haven't toyed with you."

He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "I wouldn't have a clue what you girls are talking about." He turned and gave a little wiggle as he walked away.

"Yeah. Well. I'm agreeing to let him edge me." I took a bite of my sandwich. "Sorry," I apologized, looking at her reaction to my tone. "I'm not only exhausted, but irritable. You ever done it?" I took another bite.

She shook her head. "At least, as far as I know I haven't. Maybe I'm not sure what it is?" She looked down. Marybeth hated to be ignorant.

I put my sandwich down and looked around. "It's pretty simple: he's bringing me to the brink of an orgasm and then stopping." I glanced over to see her reaction.

"Really?" It came out as a hiss. "Why would you want...is it...?" She just shook her head, eyes questioning.

I knew it wasn't judgie, just naiveté or who knows? Marybeth wasn't the most adventuresome person I knew. I smiled. The itch between my legs suddenly much stronger than it had been. I shifted, trying to get more comfortable. It was no use.

"Uhhh, yeah. I was asking that question a lot this weekend." I took a bite and looked back at her. "Wait a sec...are you blushing?" Now I tried not to sound too judgie.

"I just," she stammered, looking down at her plate and back up at me, "I just couldn't imagine it. I mean until a little while ago I didn't even know what one felt like." She took a bite and chewed, staring at me. "And you're telling me he's stopping you from cumming?"

Oh right. Shit. I was being insensitive. But then she burst out laughing and the tension I'd been feeling exploded and we both put our food down, trying to be civilized.

"It's so stupid...ouch...ouch...holdon...no..." I was holding my stomach and every time I clenched, the cage dug into my thighs a little. "Wait...wait...don't..."

"Please," she kept begging, "oh god oh god...that's so...stop! Just stop!"

But, just as if we were in church, we couldn't stop, until finally it ran its course and we just sat there, exhausted, our stomachs cramped and tears on our cheeks. My thighs were pinched by the cage. I slipped my fingers under the table to adjust it, Marybeth's eyes on my every movement.

"Does it hurt?" It was the first complete sentence she could get out without deteriorating into another round of gibbering laughter.

I scrunched my lips and thought about it. "No. Not really. Not at all actually. Just when I laugh."

Which started another course of giggles. We struggled to get control and returned our attention to our lunch, catching our breath.

"How long...?" She waved her sandwich toward the table's edge.

"Since last night...oh...you mean..." I paused. "Friday night. He said if I was a good girl I could get it off on Friday."

She gasped. "A good girl? He didn't actually say that did he?"

I nodded, looking down and smiling.

"And you put up with that?" She had put her sandwich down.

I laughed... a little hesitantly. "It's just a...it's no big deal..." I looked at her and wondered why I was being so defensive. I actually liked that he took that tone with me. I mean, I had liked it on Friday. But, yeah, it wasn't so hot when he first did it. When he first started doing it God, when was that? I had been pretty annoyed, and then I felt myself getting wetter every time he did it. I realized I was blushing. "I...I actually like it...," I mumbled and finished my sandwich.

"You know," I confided as we were walking back to the office. "I think I'm going to call it a day. I'm too beat to be any good." I checked my calendar and confirmed I wasn't missing anything critical.

Marybeth just sighed and smiled.

*-*-*-*

Peeing. I'd gone the night before, right before he put it on me, and then this morning, before I took a shower. But I needed to go now and didn't want to risk it at the office. I collected my things and headed out, hoping the trains wouldn't make me regret I'd waited.

I thought about Marybeth's question on my way home. Why did I let him treat me this way? No, not let him, but want him to!? Marybeth's concerns implied shame. That I should be ashamed to be treated that way. But she was framing me and I understood where she was coming from. At work we, all of the women, but certainly she and I mostly because of the group we were working in, needed to constantly defend and protect our status. 2032 and we're not much better off than our mothers! So many slights every day, every hour. In her eyes Jimmie's treatment of me was an affront.

But every time I replayed the scene in my head, and that was happening almost every time I felt the belt rub against my thigh, when he spread my legs, and lifted my butt to slip it on, when he all but patted me as if I was his pet, I felt so relaxed, so at ease. He was taking away all of my worries; he was in control. How could I explain to Marybeth the feeling of complete relinquishment he had given me? That moment, as the cage slipped up between my legs and clicked together, the memory of it made me juice up even now, on the train. I carefully looked at the passing scene outside the window, and then focused on the reflection of the other riders in the car; luckily there was nobody next to me. Not a surprise, really, given how early in the afternoon it was. I sighed and focused on the streetscape, relieved my stop was coming up, carefully sniffing to for my arousal.

Unlocking the apartment door, my thoughts drifted to Jimmie...again...for the umpteenth time that day. The damn belt!!!! I smiled. I was falling for him. No doubt about it. I hung up my jacket and threw my bag on the couch, pulling my dress over my head as I hurried to the bathroom. Nothing would feel better right then than to release the pressure in my bladder. Flipping the light on, I caught my reflection in the mirror and was startled to see a misshapen lump where the smooth front of my underwear should have been. Muttering and shaking my head, how weird is it that I can spend all day with the thing up against my quim, know that it's there every minute, but the moment I see myself in the mirror it's as if it's a surprise? My nylons and shorts caught as I peeled them down, and now the need to pee was so strong I was ready to shred them if they didn't come loose.

And then, sitting, and letting the stream release, I could feel it spraying back and flowing along the tentacled nest of plastic. I only hoped gravity would do its part and I wouldn't be finding urine all over the seat. But that hadn't been my primary concern. My biggest concern was how to wipe myself. I could barely squish my fingers between the plastic and my lips. Tissue wasn't going to cut it. I sighed, looking at the shower, and kicked off my shoes and underclothes, stripped off my bra. Fuck, Jimmie! I sighed, feeling the last drops leaving me, and shook a little, like a dog, I imagined. I reached over to turn on the shower and sat waiting for the water to heat up enough to rinse. This wasn't going to be a viable solution. At least he'd been considerate enough to ask if I was expecting my period this week.

Naked, mostly, and mostly dry, I sat on a towel in my nook and called him.

"Fuck, Jimmie." I hissed into the screen as soon as he answered.

"Annie? Where are you? I went to check on you but you weren't at your desk..."

"I'm home, you dick." I said it softly, without menace.

"Home? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?" His tone was concern and hope.

"Maybe." Fuck. I could feel myself clenching. I needed this thing off. "No. I don't know."

"What's going on?" I could hear he was walking, probably to a 'phone booth:' what the overlords offered us for privacy.

"This thing isn't working out like you expected," I explained. "Definitely alpha."

He started laughing as I slammed him with a litany of problems with it, leading up to my inability to pee.

"Okay, okay!" He was still laughing. "But it's serving its main function, right? You can't play with yourself."

"Fuck you, Jimmie." Laughing. "A creative inventor like you? I'm sure you can make something do more than one thing at a time."

He paused.

"Yes. Fuck. Yes. I can't play with myself."

"But you want to..."

I could see his eyes sparkling. I could feel my vag clenching and my scent was drifting up around my head. "Yes." I closed my eyes and felt him licking me from the day before. Licking his tongue deep into my slit, suckling on my clit. I could feel it stiffening.

"Okay, let me look at this list." He paused and I glanced out the window to the apartment next door, wondering, yet again, whether they really couldn't see in. That public exposure thing: I really loved being naked, but fuck if I wanted to be seen naked. And, yet again, I saw their windows were dark against the bright sunlight. I assumed, as always, that mine must look the same. I really didn't want to close the blinds. It was too nice outside. I glanced at the blue sky beyond the buildings.

"I think I can get you an updated version tomorrow night."

I sputtered and cursed softly. "Jimmie! I can't wear this thing any more. You've got to either come over here, or I'm going to bust it apart."

"NO! Don't do that! You might hurt yourself. I've got the key here. I can stop by tonight after work and unlock it, but..." he paused, "it'll cost you." His voice had dropped to a whisper, his tone clear: this was another step in his power exchange. How much further could I go? Wasn't this weekend enough? I looked down at the cage and shook my head, wondering what more he was going to ask of me.

I sighed. My nipples hardened at the realization he was blackmailing me. I didn't care. "Okay, whatever. I'll be here. But don't fuck around, Jimmie. I'm going to try and get to bed early. I didn't sleep at all last night."

I threw on my sweatpants and shirt, gathered up my laundry and made myself busy until he showed up.

Two loads washed, dried, folded and put away when the buzzer rang. I looked at the clock -- just past 5. He must have left work early. I smiled at his thoughtfulness, or his being too turned on to wait.

"Hey," he stepped in and hugged me tight, his lips pressing against mine. "Sorry that V1 didn't work out," he looked sincere as he pulled back to stare at my face.

I grunted softly. "More like V0. You're such a geek." He was looking down at my waist and I followed his eyes. The sweatpants were baggy enough to hide the bulkiness of the gadget. I looked at his waist, hoping he had a bulge. I couldn't tell.

He smiled, pulling out his keys, waving them. "Let's get you out of that thing. But, just because you made me come all the way over here, let's get you totally undressed."

I just shook my head. How much clothing did he think I had on? I pulled up my sweatshirt, dragging my breasts up and letting them bounce down, and slipped the sweatpants off in one swoop. "This naked enough for you?" I held my arms out, shoulders raised.

He hooked the pile of clothes with his shoe and kicked them away. "Nice. I'd forgotten what you looked like." His eyes dilated as he stared at me. Fuck. I didn't need a template to tell me what that look meant. I loved when a guy stared at me like that. I could feel the liquid gathering behind my lips. "Smells like you're liking it." He inhaled noisily. "You liking it?"

I just shook my head, watching him kneel and unlock the belts where they joined just below my navel, peeling the cage away from my quim. My hands rubbed where the belt had chafed the skin at my thighs. His fingers met mine, rubbing over the miniature hills and valleys. His touch triggered pulses of pain and relief. "Fuccckkk. See what I mean, Jimmie?" My hands went over his, pushing and guiding where I needed relief.

"Yeah. That's not good. Sorry." And his fingers drifted across to my pubic hair and my mound, lightly rubbing and massaging, staying high above my opening and avoiding my clit. I moaned, pushing my pelvis forward. The weekend came back. I hadn't told Marybeth the half of it.

Late-May 32

Spreadeagled on the bed, Friday night. A vibrator just lightly resting against me. Teasing, moving with every breath. Threatening to roll off, and then seating itself against my lips. Throbbing, but not hard enough to do anything other than annoy.

I could hear him, his voice muffled, ordering the food. The ear plugs and the scarf deadened my senses, leaving me to focus on the breeze from his pacing and the vibration of the Hitachi. I could feel him coming closer and he whispered next to my ear. "You going to be a good girl this weekend?" It was so wicked; I still didn't understand why I liked it. It wasn't like me! I licked my lips and nodded.

"Yes, Jimmie." I whispered it. "You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

He kissed my forehead, his finger and thumb reaching down to squeeze one of my nipples. I moaned. "Only if you don't behave." He pinched until I gasped. "If you're a good girl, you'll get a reward. If you're bad..." he let go and I could feel him walk away.

"The food should be here in about 30 minutes. I'm going to do some work, but I'm right here. Don't worry and don't go anywhere."

I harrumphed a laugh, my thoughts swirling around what he was doing to me. It made me uncomfortable to be infantilized. A part of me still hated it actually, and that part hated myself for letting him do it. But that part was dissolving more and more, like a tab of butter melting in a pan. I couldn't deny the way my body responded when he did it. Around and around, the hum of the vibe like the biggest mosquito ever, my embarrassment at how turned on I was getting.

I must have drifted off.

"Food's here," I heard him say. "I'll be right back. You'll be okay."

The vibrator had moved so that the head was between my thighs just barely touching my lips. My nipples had softened and I was a little fatigued lying in one position. The restraints jerked when I forgot how far I could move and I sighed, knowing he'd release me for dinner. What the fuck? I was already accepting what he was doing as if this was a normal next step in our relationship. But then the echo of how turned on I was, only a few minutes before, reminded me that I probably did think this was a normal next step. Like I said, I'd played around before, but this felt different. More permanent. Like Jimmie was starting a long-term thing. I didn't know how I knew that, but that's what it felt like. Maybe because of the 'weekend' comment. I'd never been forced to submit for an entire weekend. Or maybe that's what I was hoping? I slid down the bed slightly, gripping the vibe between my thighs and tried to curl it toward me. The vibration through my muscles wasn't nearly enough. I relaxed and waited.

1st Week June 32 Monday

"Can I trust you to not play with yourself tonight or tomorrow?"

I looked down at his face, looking back up at me, his eyes piercing and clear, bringing me back from the weekend. I licked my lips, wanting to tell him to fuck off, but the game was still going on. "I promise," I said, sounding way meeker than I was feeling.

"We talked about what good girls get when they keep their promises, right?" My stomach clenched at the words, and then I gasped as his finger drifted across my clit and slid into me slightly. I could feel how wet I was and I moaned.

"Yes, Jimmie. FUCK!"

His finger moved into me, another finger's knuckle shoved up against my clit and I jumped, trying to pull away. It was so intense. But his other hand had slipped behind me, resting on my upper butt cheek and he held me tight, his finger beginning to piston inside me, his knuckle bumping against me and then away.

"Nooooo, FUCK,...noooo, god, god god, Jimmie. NO. I'm going to cum, stop stop...please!" My hands reached for his wrist to keep him from pulling out, but in a flash I was empty, my legs vibrating a little from the effort not to climax.

"You're so turned on, Annie." I watched him wave his finger under his nose, staring at my juices glistening. And then he moved his hand up and I knew what he expected. It had gone on all weekend: first coating his finger with my juices, then expected to clean them off. It wasn't a problem, really. Except that it turned me on even more. I liked the way I smelled and tasted. I liked the way he made me humiliate myself. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been with a guy who made me feel that way. I moaned, squeegeeing my lips on his finger.

His back hand patted my butt as he stood up, slipping from my mouth.

"Okay," he said, getting business-like. "If I'm going to make this more comfortable for you, I need better measurements. You got a fabric tape?"

I nodded, but wondered where I had stashed it. Conscious he was watching me, I walked to my bedroom and rummaged through the drawer where I expected it to be. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway.

"And your largest toy..."

His face was pure mischief. I found the tape and sighed, moving to my bedstand. Largest. I only had three and none of them were that big. I held up the latex member, laughing at how stupid it was, how exposed I felt, how naked he made me feel showing off something so private. I waved it around, watching it bounce a little.

"That's the biggest?" He looked skeptical, thinking. "C'mon. Maybe you've got something bigger in the kitchen."

"Jimmie!" I followed him through my living room, the dildo slapping against my thigh. "What the fuck, dude?" But he'd already disappeared into the kitchen and I heard the refrigerator opening. What was in the fridge?

"How about this?" He turned around as I walked in. He was holding a cucumber. It was definitely bigger than the dildo, but fuck if I wanted that thing in me. He watched my reaction and nodded. "Trust me?"

The orange blob expanded. I sighed. "Yeah, Jimmie. You know better than to ask me that, but fuuucckkk..." I exhaled, staring at the cucumber. "Let me wash it at least."

"I'll meet you in the living room." He took the dildo from me and left, his fingers drifting across my navel as I turned to the sink.

"Okay. First let's get those waist and hip measurements straight. I obviously fucked up the first time."

He positioned me in front of him, with my arms down, still holding the cucumber. Wrapping the tape around my waist he found the widest point, noting the measurement and then let it rest, loose but firm against my skin.

"Spread your legs a little, Annie." His hands slipped the tape around the top of my right thigh, his wrist brushing against my lips. "That's my good girl."

I winced and pulsed. Fuck me fuck me fuck fuck fuck. He measured the other thigh and then measured from my navel down to the bottom of my slit, the tape pushing against my clit. Pulse. Orange blossoming into yellow.FUCKKKK. He turned me around and measured from the top of my ass cheeks down between my legs, the tape lightly touching my skin, his thumb and fingers barely grazing my pussy lips. The hairs tickled a little.

"Alright. Let's see what changes when you're sitting." He got up, patting the chair he'd been in, and he repeated the process.

"You remembering all of those?" He hadn't written a single number down.

"Yep," he nodded, concentrating on getting the tape just right. "Okay. Now, your pussy." He paused, thinking, looking at the cucumber. "Maybe start on your hands and knees..."