RVA: The Trap (PG-13 for sexuality)
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When Rolas pulled out his palm comp from his pocket, he heard Melanie's strained voice state, "Rolas, I need your help with something."
"I'm on my way home from the meeting with the Greenholme Colony Coordination Committee," he replied, leaning back in the seat of his groundcar, while the autodriver took him towards home. "What's the matter?"
"I'm having a... wardrobe issue would be the best term," she said.
"So, get one of the servants to help you."
"I'd… rather not bother them with this."
Rolas' brow rose at this admission. Given some of the outfits Melanie wore when they were in private, he could well imagine not wanting to get Darktail Manor's servants involved. "Is that a fact?" he asked mildly.
Melanie's voice grew irritated. "Rolas, don't be a tease. You're terrible at it."
"I don't ever tease," he replied. "Are you in any danger?"
"No actually, just mild inconvenience," she admitted.
"I'll try to hurry then." He smiled to himself. "I do, however, see a bit of heavy traffic ahead. Might take me a few extra minutes to get home. Be there ASAP."
"Rolas! Don't be an arse! You need to get here as soon as…" Melanie began to shout, before he cut the connection and set his palm comp to shunt his messages to voicemail.
He pulled over to a small family owned cafe, enjoyed a leisurely half-hour of tea and scones, then got back on the road to the manor, arriving just about an hour after Melanie's initial call. When he walked up to the door of their suite, he knocked and called out, "I'm home, dearest."
"Thank you, Rolas," Melanie called back, her tone indicating she was trying not to grind her fangs together.
"I'm just going to head downstairs to see if there are biscuits in the kitchen. Would you like me to get…"
"Rolas! Get. In. Here. Now," Melanie growled through the door.
Rolas palmed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind him to keep out any curious servants. He found his wife standing in the center of the suite's sitting room, dressed in a pair of red silk harem pants, and gold chain belt slung around her hips, but naked above the waist, allowing Rolas a fine view of the cream colored fur flowing over her belly and breasts. The source of her distress proved to be a tube about a centimeter wide and ten long, made of what appeared to woven black rubber strands, into which she had inserted her thumbs, trapping them inside.
"Is that what's causing all the fuss?" he asked, pointing at the tube. "That's a cubling's toy."
"Not… exactly," Melanie muttered, her ears turning red.
"Yes it is. You just push your thumbs together until it loosens and slip them out one at a time."
"If it were an ordinary finger trap, that's exactly how it would work. This one… is a little trickier," she admitted.
Rolas folded his arms across his chest, trying to suppress a smile. "Really, how so?"
Caught between embarrassment and wanting her freedom, Melanie visibly swallowed down on a smart retort and said simply, "It's made out of SmarTex. It reacts to body heat, so when your fingers go deep enough in, the trap automatically tightens around them. Pushing in and pulling out again won't work, it just becomes more snug to compensate. You have to press down on the middle section to get the ends to loosen."
He raised an eyebrow. "So why didn't you just bite the middle section?"
"Because it samples your DNA. It won't release if the person pressing the middle section is the same as the person whose fingers are trapped."
"Failed to read the instructions, did you?" he asked, finally allowing a smirk to cross his lips.
"Yes," she growled, giving the trap an ineffectual tug.
"And did you just happen to be testing it before tricking me into wearing it?"
Melanie gave a indelicate snort. "I refuse to answer that question. At any rate, if I was the surprise is thoroughly spoiled now."
"How fortunate for me." Rolas settled down in the suite's conversation pit, stretching out to rest his feet on the center table. He smiled up at her cross expression.
"Rolas, what are you doing?" she demanded, tugging at the trap again.
"Sitting down," he replied serenely.
"Well are you going to help me out of this thing or not?" Melanie asked, looking peeved.
"What's the magic word?" he prompted.
She glared at him, then ground out between her fangs, "Please."
Rolas waited a moment, then said, "And what else?"
Melanie, looking like she was caught between giving in and giving him a swift kick to his balls, finally said, "Please, milord."
"All you had to do was ask." As Melanie held her paws out to him, Rolas pressed the center of the finger trap between his thumb and forefinger. Immediately the SmarTex stands loosened, and she pulled her thumbs free of the trap. Then Melanie gave a yelp as he grabbed her right wrist and surged up out of his seat, spinning her around and pushing face down into the cushions of the conversation pit. He pushed the trap back over her forefinger as she slapped at him with her free paw, until he caught it with his other paw and forced her left forefinger into the trap as well, securing her paws behind her back.
"Rolas! You utter ars-mmrph!" Rolas wrapped one arm around Melanie's chest, giving her breast a hard squeeze, as his other paw clamped around her muzzle, muffling her furious cries. Paws bound and pinned face down in the pit, his superior weight and strength holding her down, Melanie could only buck and curse into his paw pad, fighting for breath as he held it over her mouth and nose.
Rolas kept her tightly gagged, as he gave the soft fur covering her breast another squeeze, his thumb stroking her erect nipple. "Don't like having the tables turned on you, do you, Mel?" he purred into her ear, giving it a lick as she let out a soft mewl, her struggles growing weaker. "Or maybe you do. I don't see why you needed to strip half naked and dress in dancing silks before trying that little trap out, unless perhaps you wanted to be rescued by your strong, handsome husband." He slipped his palm down, still keeping her paw gagged, but uncovering her nostrils so she could breathe properly. "Or was that ravished by your strong, handsome husband?"
"You are delusional," she growled, as he removed his paw from her mouth, her lithe body squirming underneath him.
"Really?" he asked. "Then why haven't you safeworded?"
"You had me gagged with your paw, remember?" She kicked at him, but the angle was all wrong, and she ended up just hitting his back with little force.
"You aren't gagged now," he pointed out.
Melanie didn't answer immediately, though her struggling slowed, perhaps out of exhaustion. "Maybe I was waiting for you to remember you were gentleman," she said.
"Gentleman, eh?" He lay down atop her, groping her breasts with both paws, rolling her nipples between his fingers as she squealed. "Safeword?" he prompted.
She panted, tongue running over her lips as the scent of her arousal reached his nose. "No," Melanie finally whispered.
Rolas smiled, rolling off and scooping her up in his arms,carrying her towards the bedroom. "You didn't slip into that trap until you saw me drive up, did you?" he asked.
Melanie snorted, as he lay he her down on their bed, shifting the pillows underneath her so her bound arms wouldn't be too uncomfortable. "Ask me no questions, I tell you no lies," she replied.
"Thought so," he said, as he began to unbutton his shirt. "So, up for a proper ravishing?"
"Oh yes, milord," she purred, as his pants dropped to the floor. Her sultry expression quickly turned to dismay, as he reached into the toy drawer and pulled out the muzzle gag. "Rolas, no, seriously, that makes me drool."
He grabbed her by the nape of her neck, holding her head still as he pushed the ball of the gag between her teeth, "Don't like it, you can safeword."
"Mrph!"
"Thought so."
He heard no more complaints for the rest of the evening.