Mavis and the Featherlight Ch. 02

"Y-Yes!" Mavis said, a little too quickly. "It's... It's not like that..."

"Oh?" The voice sounded amused. "Well, if you say it's not like that, I believe you, dear. But you must know the type of belt, right? I'm sure it's a good one. Like I said, she's such a nice girl."

"Y-Yes." Mavis said, softly. "She is nice. I really love her very much. And it's, um..." She glanced down. "It says, um, 'Featherlight'."

The voice didn't say anything for a while. Quite clearly, then, she heard the speaker suck air through their teeth, blowing it back out. "F... Featherlight, hmm?"

"Yes?" Mavis said, softly. "Hmh-hh..." She softly gasped, trying to cover up the bottom half of the phone to let the little moan out; yet reddening only more when it came.

"You know..." The voice said, the speaker's tone far different to how it'd been before -- "I didn't have her pegged as that kind of girl. But, I suppose, I don't know you."

Mavis said nothing.

"Dear," The voice said quickly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but... I really don't think you want me to tell her anything." It paused, as if the speaker were moving into another room, Mavis just able to make out the sound of a door shutting, and the background noise of the hotel dulling, before they continued. "I think, for your own good, I mustn't. I wouldn't want to earn you a further punishment."

"B-But-"

"Quiet, now, you silly little thing." The voice snapped. "This kind of reckless behavior is probably why you're in that thing, you know. Rose is a respectable lady. I don't think I want to know what you did, but you must have made her quite upset. Is it your first time in one of those?"

"Y-Yes!" Mavis yelped, as the brushes suddenly attached her again. "But, ahh! I normally- Ha, mmmh...! I've never-"

The voice cut her off. "Sweetheart; do you not think, rather than bother upstanding and hard working people like me, you ought to think about whatever it is you've done?" The angel sounded irate, now, her voice loud and accusing. "And maybe hope that when she comes back, she forgives you? A foolish little thing you were indeed, to upset a beltmaker."

"I've not! I didn't d-!" Mavis tried, but she was again cut off.

"Dear me! Sweetheart, spare me, okay? Can't you just put the phone down, and let it work you like a good girl? Don't make me listen to you!"

Mavis opened her mouth to retort, to yell, to demand... But it died on her lips when she heard the phone slam into its cradle, the line ringing emptily.

Slowly, she laid the handset on the ledge she'd found it, her heart pounding with shock. She stared down at the Featherlight, lurching to her feet as the brushes suddenly moved to her clit -- "A-AH!" She squealed, her fingers pushing hopelessly at the steel. "S-Stop...!" She gasped, as if it would listen.

She hobbled over to her stool again, wrapping her legs tightly around it as she suddenly felt what must have been four of them -- whatever they were, some felt like brushes, some little, dancing nubs, some like tiny feathers, she didn't know, couldn't tell, couldn't think -- all in a neat line, skating softly up the roof of her passage. Until, deep inside, as she doubled over, beginning to recover -- she felt it. The same soft strokes, the nubs pressing hard and rubbing and massaging, now both deep within her passage and on her clit as well. This horrible chastity belt. It had found a place that Mavis hadn't even known she could be attacked, never mind driven so wild, so quickly.

Now, she really couldn't take it. She panted and gasped, her legs turning white from so rapidly alternating between clinging to and wildly kicking at the stool. Soon, she couldn't help but wind her butt from side to side, grinding her metal clad crotch against it - and coating it with moisture that was soon dripping onto the floor.

Her sensitive flesh screamed for relief under the brushes as the belt kept oh so lightly working her, even as her fist beat at the desk and she pleaded softly and desperately for it to stop. Because it didn't stop. It didn't stop, for... Mavis didn't know how long. It brought her again, and again, to the edge, then, her writhing only intensifying the assault more and more as the belt forced her to move, to wind it further with her desperate grinding, and gyrating, and shuddering, unlocking even more of its functions as the charge it held increased. Like some kind of devious perpetual motion machine, it drove her to drive her energy into it, the elf's involuntary movements continually powering her torment even as she tried, quite desperately, to suppress her shudders, her flinches, her gasps and cries, and desperate attempts to struggle; failing now to hide from it every sensitive fold, every unique aspect, not simply of female anatomy, but of Mavis anatomy, that could be stimulated and through that stimulation enslaved for one single purpose: to hold her so close, so very close, that she soon began to lose her mind. When they had started, the belt's touches, it's gentle caresses and tweaks and tickles, had felt almost as though they were from someone else. It had felt like a stranger to her. And now...

Now, it felt like Rose. A crueller Rose, but still, Rose. Still the angel that knew her so well that she knew how to make the elf explosively cum in 60 seconds just as well as she knew how to make her beg and plead for 60 minutes. The difference was that this Rose that only wanted to toy with her, and toy with her not just for an hour so, to bring the elf to a gentle boil and prepare her for an eager lovemaking session; nor for just a little longer, until the elf clearly couldn't stand it, trapped by the angel's wings and forced all the while to listen to the angel softly purr a lecture into her pointed little ears about touching other people's property. No, this Rose... This Rose was so, so much crueller. So, so much angrier. This Rose did not consider her a person. This Rose didn't even consider her an animal. This Rose, mechanically bereft of sympathy and empathy in equal measure, considered her a toy. Mavis shuddered, tears forming in her eyes as she had a thought, then -- her last coherent thought for several hours:

Do I deserve this?

Quickly, Mavis was frantic. For this Rose did not listen to her pleas, even the ones that were coherent. She couldn't be reasoned with. She would not even speak. All she wanted, was to do what the real Rose had always been able to do, but was too kind to. To tease, and tease, and never, ever stop -- not even as the elf broke beneath her hands, her brain melting under the angel's soft fingers her curled feathers, just ever so slightly tickling Mavis's reddened, throbbing clit. "Please, Rose..." The elf pleaded, her poor, swollen button now screaming and shaking endlessly under the tiny mechanical brushes and nubs as beneath it, the elf's clenching pussy cried and cried until its tears soaked the floor. Her feet rubbed and kicked at the stool's legs, her mouth dry as she beat and shook at the belt, gasping and whimpering in tortured frustration. All the while, the orgasm felt only closer, and closer - constantly just seconds away, even as Mavis ground her teeth, counting minutes into the tens, then the hundreds, of the chastity belt's mechanical arms skilfully keeping her close, yet just shy. Just... Right there, on the edge. And it went on, and on, and on, and on.

Her shaking fingers soon pushed the tensioning tool into the lock again, picking and picking, prying and twisting, pushing and raking, with increasing wildness, for over an hour, but the lock wouldn't yield -- the belt remaining firmly set in place on her hips even as she tried, again, to wrench the front shield away from her sex, to slip her fingers past and give herself some kind of relief. Just a single touch would be enough. One single stray stroke of the brushes, one little puff of air, the lightest touch of a nail that slipped by the shield... But... But...!

"H-H-Haaa..." She gasped, whimpering into her fists. "Mhhh...!"

She shook and heaved at the belt, bouncing frantically in her seat; trying desperately to make the brushes move just a little wrongly, to force them to stimulate her for just a millisecond too long somewhere, somehow. But... She couldn't. The belt always countered her, reversing the brushes' movement against the belt's shaking with far less effort than it took Mavis, soon hysterical, to shift it around on her hips. She hammered her fists against it for several minutes, quite desperate for relief. "Rose, please!" She begged, as the twisting, tickling brushes only continued on and on. "H-Ha... Pl... Mmmh! Rose, I'll be good, please I'll be good... I won't misbehave again, s-so, please, please take it off... Please please please..."

Only the sensation of her knees bumping against the bottom of the desk brought her back to reality, the elf hurriedly burying her head in her arms. And there it stayed, even as the elf continued to shudder - quite lost in the torturous sensations, and too exhausted to struggle any longer.