Pulling the Strings
rating: NC-17 for sex with some kink.
disclaimer: Joss, not me.
summary: Fred, Faith, Cordelia, and black leather laces.
Things Winifred Burkle has discovered after two weeks of Cordelia and Faith:
* It’s okay to tell your ex-boyfriend and your potential boyfriend to go to hell. If they really care about you, they WILL back down.
* It is okay to tell said men to fuck each other if they’ve always wanted to anyway.
* Sex without cocks is very unlike sex with cocks.
* That doesn’t mean bad. On the contrary.
* Kink is good. Leather is better. Kink and leather is…
There are even more things on Fred’s list–she thinks there are at least twenty–but at the point where kink is good, Fred’s mind starts to wander. To laces. Laces on boots. Laces on corsets. Things that constrict, bind, repress, hold back…
She isn’t exactly sure, but laces might be Fred’s new favorite thing. Black leather laces, even if they’re not entirely efficient. Because with Faith and Cordelia, it’s not about efficiency. Insert nylon lace A into metal eyelet B on corset C to achieve breath constriction D as a precursor to multiply orgasmic state X.
No, it’s about feeling it, seeing it, smelling it, tasting it, and feeling it again.
This is Fred’s new mission in life. Faith, Cordelia, and black leather laces in as many permutations as she can possibly imagine.
Tonight, Fred is standing up, still sort of nervous about how the corset doesn’t cover her breasts, but the sort of nervous that makes for giggles and underwear that gets progressively more and more uncomfortable and wet.
Cordelia and Faith are on the bed, kissing. No, not kissing. Faith is worshipping Cordelia with her mouth, pressing it against Cordelia’s extremely sensitive skin lightly, the tip of her tongue swirling against Cordy’s swollen belly and Fred’s eyes are caught, unable to stop watching the rose-pink of Faith’s tongue gently licking the full, maternal curve. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, life swelling up to meet life and the way Cordelia’s mewling, it makes Fred want to have a baby, too, just to feel what it’s like to have that full feeling in her own body.
Fred wants to touch Cordelia, too, but this is part of the set up. Fred is standing at the foot of the bed, laced up so tight she can barely breathe. The boning is pressing against her ribs so that it aches every time Fred pants, and it’s even worse because it’s not a full corset. Oh, no. Fred is exposed for Cordelia and Faith to look at and *know* how very badly Fred wants to be the one tasting and being tasted. If Fred was willing to stop looking, she could see how peaked and hard her nipples already are, but she can’t stop. Her eyes are entranced at the way Cordelia’s hands are running up and down Faith’s back, the way Cordy’s lips are so wet (because she keeps licking them), and how Faith looks up at Cordelia with big, dark eyes, asking permission before she very, very delicately runs her thumb over Cordelia’s areola, making it harder. If Fred’s hands weren’t bound by a soft leather belt, they would be in her panties.
It’s so pretty. Not like she thought it would be. She’s seen the odd girl-on-girl scene in late night pornish stuff, and they were just sad, blondes with implants and too much lipstick. Fred knew those were fake, but she’s always been fond of men. And man parts. And she wasn’t sure this would be enough. But even with the leather, and the weird power vibes, this is more than enough.
The visuals alone are driving Fred crazy, and she can’t help but moan the way Faith does when Cordelia starts guiding Faith’s head downward. It makes her light-headed, because the corset’s laced tight, and she’s sweaty and starting to itch. The tops of the boots that Faith put her into, rubbing and licking up and down her bare thighs all the while, are starting to bite into her skin, but Fred does not move.
If she moves, there will be no rewards. And Fred wants very badly to be rewarded for this.
The voyeur’s experience is almost enough, and as Fred’s tricky hands squirm against the belt (she could easily get loose, but it’s about the rules), she can feel her hips want to move, can feel her desire burn its way up her body, making her blush and try to hold still. Cordelia is looking directly at Fred, and her eyes are so inviting. Faith is buried in Cordelia’s pussy, and Cordelia is lounging on and against a sea of pillows, lightly stroking her stomach with one hand. Her other is stroking Faith’s hair, and she keeps smiling at Fred, humming and panting as Faith licks and rubs her closer to orgasm.
Leather is chafing and sweet and sweaty when it starts to smell like sex, and Fred isn’t sure if she likes it or not. She knows she likes how hard it is to breathe, the way it makes her dizzy and fevered and makes the edges sparkle and blur and how all the tiny variances of temperature in the room are heightened by the oxygen deprivation. There’s a fan (she can’t hear it; all she can hear is Cordelia murmuring her approval to Faith) and when the breeze hits her face, it’s almost enough to make her come, it feels so good.
“Mm, baby, oh oh…” and Fred tries to stop breathing so she can hear those sweet tiny noises Cordelia makes when she comes. But that doesn’t work (it’s either breathe or fall over and be punished), so she takes deep, quiet breaths and her body is practically quivering, she needs to be touched so badly. Now. Right now.
“Can Fred join in?” Faith asks, looking over at Fred with a gleaming, sticky face. “I think she’s been pretty good.”
Cordelia’s hand caresses Faith’s bare shoulder as she decides. “Yeah. Just a little bad. And you and I can show her how to be good for us.”
Faith’s smile is wicked and Fred’s panties are absolutely soaked now. “Oh, yeah.”
“Ugh–my back. I’m gonna need my chair,” Cordelia says. “Fred, you lay down on the bed. Faith, will you–”
“Of course, C,” Faith says, dropping another kiss on Cordelia’s stomach as Fred, who is all butterflies and wanton lust and hard nipples and wet panties, tries to walk without stumbling in the patent leather boots with the spike heels, her hands still bound behind her.
“You can undo your hands,” Cordelia tells her, a humorous twinkle in her eye. “Don’t touch yourself. It’s just for balance.”
Fred’s hands get free (the belt thumps on the floor) and then she very precisely arranges herself across the bed the way she’s learned. Horizontal. Legs together. Hands at her sides, looking up at the ceiling to start. The same water-stain is there, discolored and tired looking.
She can hear Faith and Cordelia kiss, a soft sighing kiss that lasts forever while Fred chafes against the slowness of the passing time.
“She’s gonna move if we don’t help her,” Faith says, smacking her lips together. “We’re asking a little too much, don’t you think?”
“You’re right,” Cordy says. “She just looks so pretty like that. It’s almost hard to touch her. I could watch her. I think I will. You know what to do, don’t you, baby?”
“I do,” Faith replies. “But are you sure–I mean–if you don’t mind, I would love–”
Faith has been wrapping Fred up for Cordelia to unwrap, every time teasing Fred a little more, until Fred is almost as curious as Faith about what it would be like for the two of them to indulge.
“Do it,” Cordelia orders without ordering, and Faith makes a noise that turns Fred’s spine into tingles. Fred can kind of see them, and she can see Cordelia settling back into the big armchair, her hands resting on her stomach for now. “I want to watch you both.”
Fred whimpers. Faith springs on her with slayer-reflexes and puts a hand over Fred’s mouth.
“Now, now,” she says. “Behave.”
The feeling of girlskin against hers makes Fred’s hips squirm. Faith notices and laughs, the kind of laugh that makes it hard not to move. Then she has Fred’s wrists in her hands, pulling them over Fred’s head, leaving her stretched out and still in the laced-up corset.
“Hey,” Faith says, her free hand resting between Fred’s breasts. “How’re you?”
“Okay,” Fred says. “I–”
Faith shakes her head. “I know,” she says, pulling a little harder on Fred’s wrists and nothing has ever hurt so much or felt so good. “You know the rules. Relax. Don’t think. Feel.”
And then she lets go and she’s straddling Fred, her naked hips rocking into Fred through the ruined panties and almost-orgasms shoot through Fred’s overstimulated nerves and she cries out again.
“God, you so want it–” Faith murmurs.
“So do you,” Cordelia says wryly. “Don’t get cocky, Faith. And don’t let her pass out. Take the corset off. Slowly.”
Faith licks her lips and Fred can feel her fingers against the laces, moving so slowly–pausing to trace Fred’s name in cursive across Fred’s breasts with her fingernails–all the while churning her hips against Fred. And Fred is aware of the weight of Faith, but more of the weight of the leather, and when Faith unties the stays, Fred’s head starts to reel.
“Poor baby,” Faith murmurs, and her fingertips soothe against revealed skin. There are indentations, and Faith’s fingers are cool and ticklish against them, sparking off more sensation into Fred’s brain. “That was really a little too tight.”
Fred would agree, but she’s too fascinated with how soft and cool Faith’s hands are on her ribcage, and how good it feels to breathe. It’s almost hypnotic, a feverish surreality. All she can do is listen to her breathing and the slow thud of her heartbeat.
“Fred,” Faith whispers, her mouth suddenly hot, hotter, hottest against Fred’s ear. “Don’t go to dreamland yet. It wouldn’t make Cordy happy.”
“No,” Fred agrees, luxuriating in the feel of Faith’s mouth on her neck, on her jaw, covering her mouth. Faith has sharp teeth, but they feel good biting into Fred’s lip. “Oh–grandmother–what big teeth you have–”
Cordelia laughs and laughs and laughs and Faith looks up into Fred’s eyes, one of her hands resting on Fred’s hip.
“Weird girl,” Faith says, kissing her again. Fred likes that. Cordelia doesn’t kiss like this. Fred kisses back, hard, and Faith gets more into it, her thigh nudging Fred’s legs open and her hands tugging at the damn useless underwear. “Loosen up.”
More than anything, Fred wants to. She wants to come completely unglued, meet each of Faith’s thrusts with one of her own, see what it feels like to be an active participant in the game, but there’s Cordelia, and Fred knows that if Cordelia says no, it won’t be any fun at all to give into the way Faith is heating her up, bringing her close–
“Go ahead,” Cordelia says and Fred’s back practically arches to the ceiling and Faith laughs, helping Fred get rid of the panties but not the boots.
“I like them,” Faith says, pushing Fred’s knees up and caressing the slick, shiny material. “They look *good* on you.”
Faith takes Fred’s leg and pushes her knees up further. Fred can feel Faith rubbing against her calf and then carefully loosening the boots a little (just to be nice) before pushing Fred’s knees further apart and shimmying upward, her own thighs pressing against Fred’s so that she can feel all the slayer-y muscles and Faith’s hand snaking between them, warm and shivery and ooh.
“I like that,” Fred says, brushing the hair out of Faith’s face (and it’s good to move, her muscles were getting stiff and now there’s warmth and wriggling and she’s rocking into Faith’s fingers, trying to get them deeper inside and trying to figure out where exactly she wants to touch next. There are so many places.
Her fingers walk along the line of Faith’s neck, and then she tries cupping both breasts, but that’s hard with Faith’s arm where it is, and finally, Fred settles for the shoulders and concentrating on the way Faith has three–now four–fingers inside her, and Fred’s been wet since Faith laced her into that corset and if she doesn’t come soon, she’s gonna go–
Faith brushes her thumb against her clit and that’s all Fred needs to go off, and Faith doesn’t let her off easy, continuing to finger and rub Fred until Fred’s screaming and her hips are well off the bed. And Faith is laughing, laughing and sucking on her stomach. She won’t stop touching Fred and it’s starting to be too much.
“Faith,” Fred pleads.
“Uh-uh,” Faith says, pushing Fred’s thighs further apart and moving her head to–oh, God, Fred can’t breathe anymore. Faith’s tongue is licking her and she’s got three fingers in her deep still and Fred hasn’t stopped crying and she can’t kick or she’ll hurt Faith and that would oh God oh God, Faith’s got to stop, but oh God, it feels like her whole body is going to burst, it’s all tingly and her muscles are taut as Faith doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop, doesn’t–
“FAITH!” Fred screams and this time Faith does stop, lets Fred go, and pops her fingers into her mouth and licks them clean while Fred’s head tries to stop spinning and dancing. “Oh my God, oh my God…”
“You’ll be okay,” Faith says, settling next to her with a lusty smile and Fred’s trying to find enough energy to reciprocate, but she’s not sure she can. Her entire body is drenched in sweat, and all of her muscles have turned to grape jelly and nothing ever felt so good.
Fred is stroking Faith’s skin, trying to find the energy and inspiration to thank the other woman for what just happened when she looks down and sees her legs still encased in the shiny leather boots. With a wicked little smile, Fred shyly strokes Faith’s leg with one of them, and gets an immediate purr. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Cordelia stroking her stomach with a little more than innocent interest.
Still a little dazed, Fred slips away from Faith and quickly finds the leather belt lying on the floor. She lifts it up in one hand, and Faith’s moan makes Fred giggle.
“*Someone* has a leather fetish,” she murmurs, leaning over to kiss Faith on the lips, curving her hand around Faith’s jaw and enjoying the way Faith’s tongue twists against hers. Fred slowly climbs atop the other woman, awkwardly because she’s still got the belt and Faith doesn’t want to stop kissing. But Fred pulls away and takes the belt between her hands, making it crack slightly, and Faith’s back arches. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
Fred’s not sure if she’s going to do this right, but she’ll try. She takes the soft side of the belt and runs it along the side of Faith’s breast, and then up across the nipple. Faith bites her lower lip and whimpers. Fred gets a little more adventurous, moving it up and down from neck to collarbone to breast and then to flat, hard stomach–oh, this is fun. The teasing. They’ve both teased her, and she knows why now.
Licking her lips, Fred leans down, tickling Faith with her hair, and then she lays the belt across Faith’s stomach and leaves it there so she can cup Faith’s left breast with both hands and then suck the nipple into her mouth and bite down just a little.
“Fuck!” Faith growls. “Yeah. Like that.”
Fred sucks harder, and moves one of her hands downward, drifting toward Faith’s straining hips. But she pauses when her hand touches the leather again. All of those times tying her up and lacing her tighter–Fred thinks Faith maybe needs to work for a little release.
She lets the nipple go (Faith whimpers) and takes up the belt, a glitter in her eyes that matches Cordelia’s. Fred drags it against Faith’s face, using the buckle the tiniest bit, and pushes her hips into Faith’s, feeling her own want spark up again.
“You’re so pretty,” Fred whispers, baring her teeth and rocking back and forth, making sure her pubic almost presses into Faith’s clit each time, but without enough force to make it satisfying. The nipple she’s been sucking on is puckered and red, and the other one looks lonesome.
Very, very carefully, she pulls the belt away from Faith’s face and cracks it against the side of her breast, hoping she’s doing it right. Faith moans and tries to push up, get Fred to rub against her where she so clearly needs it, and Faith is so slick under her that Fred smiles again. She could do this for hours, but Faith looks desperate.
So Fred eases down Faith’s body, spending a full minute tracing a spiral from Faith’s belly button and pushing Faith’s knees far, farther, farthest apart with the flats of her hand, until Faith is spread and swollen and wet for her, and Fred begins by licking her way up and down each of Faith’s thighs, getting traces of the taste on the tip of her tongue, caressing the tops of the thighs with her hands.
“Oh, God, Fred–” Faith pleads. “Come on–”
With a little smile, Fred does, determined to make Faith scream as much as Fred did not so long ago. Faith’s hips keep jutting forward, and her hands are tangled in Fred’s hair, trying to get Fred to just get her off already, but Fred is into the buildup, to feeling Faith get wetter and hotter with every finger slid in and out, with every lick until Fred’s ready to suck hard on Faith’s clit and get her hair pulled.
“Oh, God, yes, yes, yes–” Faith is crying, and Fred keeps going, not sure if she’s doing it right or wrong until she feels Faith spasm, nearly dislocating her jaw with the motion of her hips and Fred smacks Faith on the side of her thigh, which only sets Faith off again. “Like that, oh god, like that, don’t stop, please, please, fuck me, please, oh God, I’m gonna–”
Fred is surprised at how much Faith is talking, but she keeps going until Faith is sobs and limp gestures. Then, and only then, does she pull away and press a tired, sore-jawed kiss to the slayer’s forehead.
“Feel good?” she asks, snuggling next to her and looking over at Cordelia, who is flushed and smiling at both of them.
“God, yeah,” Faith says with a yawn. “Hey, Cordy.”
“Hey,” Cordelia says, struggling up to her feet. “Scoot over, you two. I’m tired, too.”
They scoot, pulling down sheets and scrabbling so that Cordelia can occupy the center of the bed, Faith on one side, and Fred on the other, both of them nestled against her like pagan idolaters. Fred even strokes Cordy’s belly, not lustfully (she’s too tired now), but just contently, liking the feel of it.
“Was that nice?” Fred asks, resting against one of the thinner pillows. “Did you like it?”
“I did,” Cordelia says, watching how Fred’s eyelids are fluttering shut. “It was very nice. We’ll have to try it sometime.”
“Yeah,” Faith says, just as tiredly. “Sounds…about right…”
The two of them are asleep before Cordelia can think of anything else to say to them. She smiles. They’re such sweet things–and they’ll do anything she wants.
Cordelia puts her hand on her stomach, still smiling at the two small shapes asleep in the mess of pillows and bunched sheets. They look so harmless in the shadows, and she means to keep it that way. There will be no threats from her fellow women. Otherwise it leads to knives and blood and she did not like watching Lilah die, oh no no. Women should stick together in a world like this, and Cordelia is making sure that Fred and Faith stay with her for a long, long time.
“Aren’t they just the sweetest?” Cordelia whispers to her baby, her eyelids drooping. It is definitely time for sleep. “I think we’ll keep them. Oh, yes, I think we will–”