Mavis and the Featherlight Ch. 02

She shuddered, feeling cool air on her clit under the metal as she covered her mouth in embarrassment. What the hell was that?! It must have been some kind of rubber hook, gently catching her clitoral hood, and pulling it up. Not painfully far back, but... Just a touch. Just enough for her body to feel that sensation of cool air somewhere it normally wouldn't, and quickly begin to react. Her sex twitched, at first involuntarily, but then, quite intentionally, as the shocked elf tried in vain to somehow shake the hook loose by clenching and twitching, and found she couldn't. Her fingers scraped angrily against the front shield, trying to help.

That wasn't the end. Because, before she even had time to take stock of how unusual it felt, how arousing it was to move around like this, she felt more metal arms slide into place around her twitching hole -- gently pulling her moist tunnel open. "N-No..." She gasped, her hands uselessly shaking and tugging at the front shield as she realised she couldn't even separate it from her body. "I'm s-sorry..." The elf pleaded. "I didn't m-mean to!"

The belt ignored her, leaving her to stew in anticipation as the gears all stopped again. She twitched and leaned, shaking at it, still trying to dislodge the metal arms that lay firmly against her tense little passage, her sensitive little hood, yet being easily repelled. "H-Ha..."

At first, it had been quite uncomfortable, but the feel of fresh air on her moistened nethers was quite strangely pleasurable. Irritatingly pleasurable. What had started as a feeling of subtle, irritating stretching between Mavis's legs was slowly turning into a needful itch in the places Mavis normally only allowed herself and Rose to touch. And, as was becoming quite clear -- the elf could do nothing about it. Her shaking at the belt didn't even make those little arms move -- they seemed not only to absorb the impact, but move, as quickly as she shoved at the belt, in the opposite direction. Resulting in a net zero movement, which meant... No stimulation. At all. Nothing, aside from what the belt would give her. And her own hopeless attempts to bypass it, to defy the chastity belt and force stimulation from these complex mechanisms, were continually fruitless. It was incredibly frustrating. And Mavis was becoming quite wet.

She shook her head, trying to bear the lewd sensations as the minutes passed by, and she grabbed the tensioning tool again. She knew her movements were still winding it. It was as if the belt was waiting -- but, for what!?

It didn't matter. What mattered was that she had to pick this stupid thing open. Now. Before... Before it...

What the hell was that?!

"Mmmh."

She thought she'd imagined it the first time, but the second time, the caress lasted longer -- long enough for her mind to register.

It started on her clit. The very gentlest touch of... Were those... Bristles? Tiny little fibers, each individual one skating down her now rapidly twitching button, then, as slowly and gently as they'd started, flicking softly away... And finding themselves on her labia lip, which tingled quite infuriatingly pleasantly at their gentle touches. Touches, plural, for there were two more of the brushes now, skating gently up the other side. Tantalizing her passage as she gasped, bending forward a little until the belt would allow no more.

She bit her lip, angrily attacking the lock with a fresh pick as her other hand pushed and pried at the cylinder with the tensioning bar. The lock was clicking now, gently, but it was only with the force and ferocity with which she was prying at its finely tuned mechanisms with the pick, forcing it between what felt like tiny slits in the spongy surface where there should have been pins before snapping it out, freeing it from being uncomfortably caught in the mechanism. She raked it along the top, then the bottom, of the lock, then, her legs becoming restless as her sex began to feel more and more wet under the brushes -- their gentlest, softest touches, that slowly deprived her of her senses, of her sensibilities. She tried, as the sensations only intensified, to find, at various fixed distances, various different angles, something that felt more like pins. On the top and bottom of the lock, for both had the same soft, spongy quality. But... Nothing. Nothing.

"A-AHNN!" She shuddered, her teeth suddenly chattering as she felt two of the brushes cross paths, drawing a feathery figure eight over her clit. "H-Hnnhhh..."

Before she could even realise she'd dropped both the pick and the tensioning tool on the floor, she jumped again. Quickly, she realised the belt must have somehow noticed her last reaction, for the two brushes had returned to the same spot. And this time, those little nudges, and caresses, and soft little tickles at her quickly throbbing nub wouldn't stop. Not as she gasped, not as she began to bend forward, gripping her head in her hands, not as, a minute later, she began to moan and pant, beating at the front shield as tears formed in her eyes. A strange, sweet, yet sweaty sent made itself known, and the elf only became more flushed when she realised it was her own.

She couldn't take it... It was going to... It was going to make her cum. She was going to... Just a few more minutes, and she was going to cum. She was actually going to cum... From having her sex, gently brushed... Her little clit, caressed, and traced, and stroked...

How humiliating. She had no say in this at all. Not an iota of control. It only took another fifteen minutes for her to give up fighting the belt, gritting her teeth as the sensations became far too much. All she could do after that was set her chin against her shuddering fists, planning to helplessly bear the coming orgasm out, and resume her so far fruitless attempts at escape once it was over. Soon, however, she gasped and squealed quietly into her hands, her hips writhing in the seat. It wasn't ending; instead, it went on and on. The belt was drawing her out, its feather-tipped brushes flicking and fluttering against her throbbing labia lips even as she ground her ass against the drenched seat, humping the air. And they only got faster and faster, lighter and lighter...

Her hands pried and strained against the warm, moist metal some more, the mirror-like surfaces becoming blurred with the elf's sweat as she began to drool, moaning helplessly. How was it doing this?! How was it not running out of power?!

...And when would it be over?

All she could hear, still... Aside from her own moans, which only seemed to abate if she forced herself to hold her breath, and even then, only momentarily... Was that soft, gentle ticking and tocking. The brushes were quite silent, but over and over again the belt quietly ticked, matching the wall clock as the elf jammed her toes into the ground, unable to get to her feet. Those three... Three? Four... It must have been four, little brushes... Were going so, wild now. But... It was as if the belt knew exactly how close she was. As if it were feeling the rising pulse of the elf through each and every brush, still building her body closer and closer to climax, but ever so slowly. Ever so torturously. An almost painfully intense crescendo.

"Please..." Mavis pleaded, her wondering hands pulling back her short, black hair as her legs opened and closed, her toes clenching and releasing. "Please please please..." She wheezed, as more minutes went by, and still, no relief came. "Ahmm, I'm so close... I'm so, so close! Ahn, please... Please!" Her voice loudened as it cracked, raising in pitch as she arched her back, finally cresting the wave, finally being worked closer, closer, oh so close to climax. Until she was there. Until she was just there. And finally, as the elf tightly shut her eyes, covering her mouth with her hands...

Nothing.

Slowly, gently, each brush withdrew itself. Her sex throbbed and ached, clenched and dripped as the elf let out a betrayed sob, her hands grabbing at the waistband. "No!"

She was there! She'd been right there! She was so, so close... And...! But...!

Her fingers scratched and scraped at the metal dome, her hands quickly closing to hammer angrily at the metal. She got up, straining at the chastity belt, shaking at it, tilting it left and right until her wrists ached from the exertion, and soon after, she finally accepted that there was no way get free from it like this. Not if she didn't end this tantrum, and get back to work on that stupid, annoying little fucking lock.

She bit her lip, hard - her eyes glancing over the picks as her shaking hands fell to her sides, her body slowly coming down from the... Almost orgasm. 'Almost' didn't cut it, though, did it? She'd been that close! That... fucking close, and... And then the brushes had... And then, suddenly, they'd just... Just...!

This was her own fault, wasn't it? Wasn't it?! She'd put this belt on herself. She'd locked away the key, hid it away somewhere that there was no way she'd be able to get to it. Who ought she to go to?! Who, absent of a person holding her key, was she to beg -- was she to plead her case to?! She couldn't call Rose! Rose, who'd trusted her, who'd only two hours or so ago warned her, clearly warned her not to even go in her room, where she would surely be seduced by this horrible, awful chastity belt. The angel had told her, knowingly, of the danger. She gasped, shuddering as, suddenly, the brushes came back, slowly touching and poking at her opening as she slammed her fist against the countertop.

The elf's back hit her wall as she, again, tensioned the lock and, again, slipped the pick inside. This thing was coming off. Now! It had to!

There had to be pins here somewhere! Were they in the sides?! She pushed at the sides of the lock with the pick, finally finding a flat surface that it didn't sink into. But this didn't help her in any way. She ran the pick up and down the sides, both sides, along the top, along the middle, along the bottom, along the upper middle, along the lower middle...

"Mmhhhh..."

What the hell were those brushes doing...?

"A-Ah..." Her vision blurred up for a moment. That's how intense it felt. They were bringing tears to her eyes, almost. "Hmhhh..."

They? No, just one. Just one, now... For now... was softly tracing patterns into her flesh, gently skating its bristles over her skin. Not in any repetitive way, but in a cruel, utterly tantalising sort of random pattern, that happened, very frequently, to graze over those specific spots that...

"H-Ha..."

She had to call Rose. She had to call her now. The elf stumbled around, looking for her phone. She reddened, rising onto her tiptoes and stumbling forward as another brush suddenly slid straight down over her slit, and then, back up. Already, she wasn't breathing right. She couldn't help it. Her hands, prying, pushing, trying vainly to crane themselves around the metal, couldn't reclaim her sex from the firm, tyrannical hold of the chastity belt. They couldn't grant relief, couldn't even make the brush stop as it traced and traced, caressed and touched. She searched around the room, all the while growing more agitated, more flustered... The area between her legs growing more and more wet. Soon, the elf felt droplets of moisture running down her thighs, blushing in humiliation as her little waist began to twitch and flex in the belt's grip -- already unable to bear the second assault.

It was worse than last time. Even though she knew what to expect now, and even though there were now only two brushes tormenting her, teasing softly around her sex. They'd found more places, more sensitive little folds, where the elf couldn't help but cringe and gasp as they were touched. But, more terrifyingly... One of them was, if momentarily, slipping inside her... Into, and along the roof, then the side, then the bottom of her twitching passage. Teasing its way, just... Softly. Gently. Just... Quite, slowly... Quite...

"Mmmmmhhhhhhh..." The elf shuddered, rubbing at her eyes. She clenched hard, trying desperately to pull her passage shut, to fight against the metal arms that gingerly held it open - and if that wasn't possible, to at least catch just a little bit more stimulation from the repeatedly passing brush. She knew she mustn't. That that would only make it worse, teaching the belt more about where she most needed to be touched. Still, she couldn't help but try.

She stumbled into the living room, almost falling onto the couch as she dragged herself across it, leaving a wet trail on the cool leather. She threw up the cushions, her eyes searching desperately for the expensive little cordless house phone she almost always lost somewhere while she was working. As she did, however, the brushes began to draw circles, spurring her onto her knees. She yelped, shuddering as she felt them speed up. Again her clit was flicked and stroked, lightly kissed and touched by brush... After brush. Her knees knocked together. It wouldn't stop.

The panting elf's nails sank into the leather. "S-Stooop iiit...!" Mavis pleaded as, quite desperate, she mounted one of the arms. Her hips began to grind the metal against it, soiling the expensive material with the elf's juices. With each thrust, she let out a tiny little gasp, the leather creaking and squeaking softly as it took in the scent of her heat -- something that she would never be able to fully wash out. "Mmmh!" She moaned, blushing as she realised what she was doing. But for a while, it felt almost like the sensation was getting through. That she was, somehow, rewarded for every thrust, drip fed more stimulation by the slow ministrations of the brushes for demeaning herself, humiliating herself to the belt. She humped the arm hard, her flushed face sinking into one of the back cushions as she drooled quite obscenely onto it, panting harder and harder into the cool leather as she worked more of her wetness into the arm. Until she realised, with a whimper, that the brushes had simply happened to sync up with her pathetic thrusts before, and that in actuality, she felt nothing. Still, even as she lifted herself away, staring in shock at the mess she'd made, trying angrily to rub away the thick strings of sticky wetness that now connected the drenched front shield of the chastity belt the chair's arm... The gentle pattern drawing continued. It went on and, on the gently circling brushes prodding and ticking at her moist clit, her dripping snatch, until the very instant they began to twitch on their own... And then, quickly and cruelly, drawing away, skating along her sensitive flesh as she fell back to her knees, once again burying her head in the sofa's cushions. For a moment, she allowed her body to move on instinct, gasping and panting as her hips ground and twisted at the arm of the chair again, before hopelessly fucking it for several more minutes. Finally, she managed to stop herself, to claw back her dignity as she peeled herself away, and, ignoring the wetness now dribbling down the side of the chair and onto the floor, stumble back into the workshop.

She threw back the curtains. There it was... That... She shook her head, seizing it, dialling the number Rose had given her, and anxiously waiting to be connected. She tried for a while to quiet her shuddering, ragged breaths, writhing against the wall as she leaned upon the window's sill, and held the phone to her ear. She listened to the automated message telling her of the higher charges of out of realm calls, her finger stabbing at the 1 button as soon as the voice told her to do so. Another excruciating moment later, she heard it ring. And ring, and ring.

"Come on... H-Ha... Come, on... You must be there by now, you must be... It's... It shouldn't take..." Mavis glanced up at the clock, realising with another shudder that she had no idea how long it would take for Rose to reach her lodgings. With a start, she heard a voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Cloudwell Inn, Penny speaking. Might you be looking to book yourself a heavenly stay?"

Mavis tried not the snap back at the sing-song voice. "H-Hello," She said quietly, her lungs begging her for air as she tried hopelessly to control her breathing. "My name's Mavis, I'm, um, I've got, my significant other staying with you... For her, um, grading, have you... Has she...?"

"Are you looking to speak to her, miss?" 'Penny' sang back, with the infuriating happiness of someone who enjoyed their menial job very much. "What's the name?"

"Y-Yes. It's quite, um, urgent-! A-And her, name's, um, R-Rose..." She couldn't help but almost moan the last word as she felt one of the brushes suddenly slide inside her. "Rose Tafori..." She gasped.

"I'm just checking our books now."

"Okay..."

A moment. "Ah, you poor thing..." The voice sighed. "Mortal spouses like yourself do tend to miss their other half when they have to be apart... But, it looks like... Yes, okay. It really does pain me to tell you, but she's not quite here yet. In fact, we're not expecting her until midnight."

Mavis glanced back up at the clock, noticing it already was midnight for her. "Mmh," She gasped, reddening as she realised she'd let a full, undisguised moan slip out. "W-When is midnight?" She asked, quickly. "O-Over there? How long?"

The voice sighed. "Two hours, dear. Coming from all the way over there isn't such a quick trip as it is from places like Melcowa, I'm afraid. I'll tell her as soon as she's here that you want to speak to her. The central crafter's institute are footing the bill for her stay, so not only can I assure you that she'll have one of our most lovely rooms, but that calls from her room to you are completely free of charge."

"Oh..." Mavis said. "T-Thank you. Thank you so very much, I... Can you tell her, I need to speak to her very urgently. I'm... It's, um..." She swallowed, her throat dry.

"There, there. Poor dear." Penny sighed. "Just try to bear it, okay? Try not to think about her, or sex, or things like that too much. It'll be easier that way."

"H-Hmm?!"

"You're her wife, right?" Penny continued, still warm and welcoming. "Time apart is never easy for our folk, you know. What kind do you wear for her?"

The color drained from Mavis's face. "What... Kind?"

"Yes! What kind? If it's not too embarrassing."

"What kind of, what?" Mavis said softly.

"What kind of chastity belt, sweetheart? Did she put you in a nice one?"

"U-Um, oh!" Mavis lept up, her face reddening again.

"Oh, you sound so embarrassed. But, you sound like a sweet girl. I doubt she has you in anything nasty. Maybe I ought to tell you about mine?" Her voice lowered, taking on a lewder, more excited tone. "I moved to a Softgrip recently. It's just, much nicer to be sat down all day in. My husband's idea, of course."

"A-Ah," Mavis said, quickly. "I, um! Maybe I should go-"

"Oh, sweetie. Relax. I've got one too, you know. We all have them up here. I know it can be a little hard, and, I can really hear some tension in your voice." A sigh. "You must miss her sooo much. So cute...! Most girls would make fun of you for being so randy after only being apart for a few hours, but, you know -- my poor husband is exactly the same way. As am I, sometimes. It can be very hard, when they have to go off for a few days, and you can't go with them... And you look down, a little while later, and you realise that it's not coming off for a little while." The voice ploughed on, the speaker making clear that she couldn't see Mavis's terrified, rising eyebrows as she continued, completely unfiltered -- "And maybe, on noticing that thought, you start trying to play down there... And you know it's silly, and very much against the scriptures... But you get yourself a little worked up trying. Am I far off the mark, dear?"