Mavis and the Featherlight Ch. 3


It didn’t stop until late in the night. The elf didn’t know why. She only knew that it’d been quite some time, that the chastity belt had stopped her at the edge several times even after she gave up her struggling, that she desperately needed a drink, and that she was utterly drenched – both in sweat, and… the other thing. Her stool, too – it was clearly ruined. Her nerves were shot. Her whole body ached, the muscles in her back, and in her hips, so tense that for a while they felt solid to the touch. Every part of her was more sensitive than it’d ever been, her hips flinching involuntarily under the touch of her own fingers; just stroking up and around her ass felt intensely arousing. Yet the belt was still firmly locked in place, even as she shook at it, straining at it with all her might as tears still ran down her cheeks. “MMMH!” She gasped, her fingers slipping off of it. “F-Fuck… This evil fucking thing…”

She ignored the safe, knowing it was useless to stick things through the slot in order to try and fish the keys out; Rose had demonstrated to her what might happen, and she wasn’t ready to deal with more molten metal.

She was too tired to even pick at the Featherlight’s lock. She resolved to just, just clean herself up… And go to bed. And tomorrow… Tomorrow, she’d get this horrible thing off. Somehow, some way, she would. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it win.

She peeled herself off the stool, ignoring the sticky puddle on and around it, and stepped gingerly out of the room. Her exhaustion was such that, once she’d finally finished drinking straight from the tap in the bathroom, she didn’t make it to her own bed; She flopped, quite helplessly, onto Rose’s. Pushing her head into the pillow, the elf took a deep, shameless sniff. Taking in the scent of her beloved partner, so dearly missed – just as she’d sometimes embarrass Rose by huffing her wings in public.

What she would do for the angel’s touch, her relief, right now. And yet…

She couldn’t have it…

Mavis was woken early in the afternoon – later than she’d woken up in quite some time. The elf was not woken by any kind of alarm, nor by the din of any kind of activity outside. No. The brushes were what woke her, spurring her angrily onto her knees as she gasped, feeling the gentle rotation of bristles against her aching clit. It was a new sensation, a technique the belt had not tried yesterday. But it worked on her very well; Beneath her, the bedsheets were already moist.

Her waist ached a little, the waistband set about it pushing into her flesh possessively. Her hand went to her crotch, clutching and scraping at the hard, warm dome – the elf shivering from the cool air of the room.

How long had the chastity belt allowed her to sleep? It must have only been eight hours or so. She plucked the covers away, regarding it with distain as it stopped for a moment, as if sensing her rising.

It wasn’t being as cruel as last night. Not just yet. It was… There was only a single brush touching at her right now. Tickling her very softly and slowly. Rotating very, very lightly at her clit, touching it very slightly. Enough that she could function, but… Involuntarily, her legs tensed and stretched, her fingers pushing at the lock as she looked over it.

Angrily, she rolled over, going for the chest of drawers by the bed. Rose had some things that she like to use on Mavis when she was here, and she was sure she could find… Aha!

Out came the… What Rose always called the “relaxing” “massager”, one of the more powerful of its kind. She’d never seen the angel say its name without making air quotes with her hands from behind Mavis, giggling all the while as she turned it on and attacked the elf where she was weakest. It had been Mavis’s, but Rose had claimed it after catching the elf using it, declaring that she wouldn’t be replaced by such a lewd little machine. What Mavis wouldn’t give for some of that kind of love now, but…

She flicked it on, touching it gently to the front of the belt, and felt nothing but annoyance at the loudness of the noise it made. Frowning, and wishing she could cover her ears, she turned the wand slowly to the moderate, then high, then max setting, feeling the loud vibrations of the metal now finally tickle and tease at her flesh – but it wasn’t anything close to enough, for barely any of the metal was in contact with her body near her sex. She ground it up and down the front shield, then, trying different positions. Up and down the sides, around each edge, over the top. She drilled and twisted the vibrator into the metal just above her clit. No matter what she tried, however, the faint little tickle never intensified into something that would stimulate her in a meaningful way.. Growling in frustration, she rolled onto her stomach, rising to her knees.

At max, though, on some parts of the belt, and only from this angle… It took several minutes of trying and failing, but now she could almost, very nearly, feel something. It surely wasn’t intentional, but one of the arms of the belt’s little nubs had parked itself, very lightly, at the top of her glistening sex – just below where her clit was. And it seemed that just below was close enough, because as the elf pushed the vibrator harder and harder into her body, she finally began to feel stimulated… Just enough.

She began to gasp, moaning softly as she ground the vibrator up and down – finally finding purchase. “Y…Yes…!” She whispered, mounting the vibe and biting her lip as she pushed hard at that very specific part of the front shield. Her hips trailed various improvements to the already strange angle she was using, then, but she couldn’t find any way to stimulate herself more than this. But, this… It might be enough. It might be just enough

The brushes were still going. She smiled a little, realising she might have finally found a way to cheat this horrible chastity belt. Desperately, she rode the sensations out, the continuing movement of the brushes aiding the unintentionally vibrating nub touched to her clit, but… But just as she was getting into it, her sex beginning to drip with moisture as the elf got increasingly close, the nub began to move, the brushes slowing to a stop. She cringed in frustration, pushing the vibrator into the metal uselessly as the nub slowly lifted away – unable, though the thick steel, to force it back down into its place. Had the belt noticed? She moaned, pushing harder at the front shield with the vibrator as her sex cooled off, unable to get any of the stimulation.

As soon as she’d calmed down just a little – unwillingly, of course – the nub was back in place, once more transmitting stimulation. Mavis scowled, wincing audibly as she felt the brushes touch back to her body. Spellbound, in she went again with the vibrator, the thing still making a monstrously loud noise against the metal as that noise, soon, was joined by the elf’s lewd moans and gasps – her hips fucking the wand as she held it to the belt in her shuddering hand.

“Mmmmh! C-Come on, ah…” She stammered, her lower legs kicking at the bed behind her as she raised her ass into the air, the room still filled by the sounds of the vibrator. “Ahhhh. Ah! That’s- Mmh…” She knew the belt could tell how close she was, but… Surely, this time… She was there again, and the nub wasn’t moving away?

Was it?

It… Was. It was moving off her slower. The brushes were slowing this time, and with them, Mavis’s progress. “F-FUCK!” She screamed at the belt. “Stop it! Let me…. Mmmhhh…! I’m so close, I’m so close I’m so close… I’m so, so close…” Her eyes shut, her voice desperate and pleading. “Please let me cum, just let me cum please, please please…” She ground the vibrator up and down again, pushing hard at the metal, but beneath she could feel the nub, and the brushes, raising and lowering, speeding up and slowing down. Tears appeared in her eyes when she realised what it was doing – making the elf a willing accomplice to her own teasing, forcing her to assist it in the edging session even as she wriggled her hips, pushing at the metal desperately as the loud vibrations filled her ears. That such an intense, unbearably loud sound from between her legs resulted only in the same gentle, slight stimulations as before… Just enough. It was just enough, to not be enough.

Soon, Mavis was shaking with rage. All she was doing was working herself up! Letting the belt, while itself working her gently, force her to join it – luring and baiting her with an orgasm it would in reality never allow to pass through. It knew her body better than she did, the artful little nubs and brushes having long mastered the elf’s sensitive, burning flesh. And it was teaching her a cruel lesson; one with only a single objective.

The elf ground her teeth, still trying to pre-empt it; her free hand pushed and pried at the front shield, shaking at it until she managed, several more minutes of infuriatingly gentle edging later, to accept that it would make no difference. Her body shaking, she fell to her knees, flicking the vibrator off and pulling it away – drawing yet more strings of her heat from the front of the belt as she sat panting on the bed. Her hands were soon clutching at her throbbing, dripping crotch as she began to wince softly again, realising that the softly stroking brushes would only very slowly let her body come down from the frenzy she’d helped them drive her into.

She was shocked, then, when she opened her eyes and saw how wet she was. And how wet the wand was, too! It hadn’t been this much of a mess even after Rose had made her cum with it multiple times! Had the angel been wiping it down between rounds? Or… Or was she now really that desperate? She gritted her teeth, wiping it on her shirt, and quietly lamenting her lack of self control. She was thirsty again, her body having lost more water to the minutes of madness.

Slowly, she let herself fall forward, lying on her stomach as she shoved her face into the pillow. She was still so, so desperate. But…

She looked back over her body, now wincing at the sight of the belt’s perfect fit, and the feel of the gently stroking brushes between her legs. She reached down, lifting her body to tug and pry at it, but it was still locked very firmly into place. The curling steel was set tight against her hips, the lock stubbornly holding each seam closed no matter how desperately she pried and strained. She winced, her breathing momentarily deeper as it worked her gently, playing cruelly with her button as if in response to her pathetic attempt at escape. Soon, those breaths became gasps. Oh, how could angels stand this?! The tightness, these unbearable, obscene little brushes; The thought that, without the key, that red key, that she’d so stupidly discarded… It really wouldn’t come off…

It came down to that, didn’t it? The lock. Why hadn’t she been able to get the lock open?

Quite suddenly, she had a new idea.

The workshop was as she’d left it, the wooden floor and workbench surface warmed slightly by the rising sun, the floor now dry. She looked at her dampened stool with distain, pushing at the cushion and feeling the moisture still soaking it. Moving it aside, she took a moment to think.

She knew as she fetched the bundle of wire from the top shelf that this was technically cheating. That, in a real situation, tools like this wouldn’t be accessible. Prideful though she was, however, Mavis was growing less and less concerned with completing her challenge as she’d originally devised it – and far more with just finding some way to get the Featherlight off her body without the key. Shuddering with frustration, she grabbed the theilla tube television from the corner, pulling it along the workbench to be nearer to her and plugging it in – tuning it to the extension 1 channel with the knobs on the side. Quickly, it warmed up, the internal theila tubes bathing the crystals in the curved, circular screen with modulated flux pulses. For a moment, then, the whole screen flashed white, the barred logo of the Seelie Machine Company illuminating the room. Another moment later, some centred, boxed letters, set in distinctive, glowing type, read NO SIGNAL.

In, then, she plugged the bundle of wires – partially into the wall, and partially into the TV – checking to see if the single tailed end that all of those wires joined into produced light. It did, and the TV showed a picture, now – her own flustered face, staring into the noodle-like camera as she held it up.

Mavis smothered a quiet little moan as the single brush that had been tracing gently around her lips and clit suddenly dived inside, drawing a soft, intolerable little line up the roof of her passage. She stomped her foot, staring down at the chastity belt with utter hate as she felt the brush return, resuming its original, already difficult to bear rotating motions; continuing not to torment her, but just, gently touch her. Tracing each fold, taking the time to sample and indulge every inch of her trembling flesh. And give every inch, every little millimetre, its own soft, gentle little stroke. “Mmh,” She gasped, realising she was becoming unable to bear it now. She pulled the belt up and down, prying at it, but there wasn’t anything she could do to prevent it from teasing her harder and harder as the minutes began to pass.

She would very much have liked to push the camera through the moistened grate between her legs. To see just what those awful gears were doing, and maybe, somehow, find a way around them, and see what the brushes were up to behind that impregnable dome. To find even the smallest weak point in what must be an extraordinarily complex mechanism, filled with emergent properties and therefore surely with weaknesses that could be exploited…

If the belt destroyed her camera, however, that would be an expensive mistake. To the lock, therefore, her attention turned – the elf glad that it hadn’t been found to have similar defences.

The image she saw on the screen of the lock’s interior – until now, unseen – was quite bewildering. Mavis very often used the wire camera to examine the interiors of locks she owned and wanted to study. She’d not seen one like this.

There were no pins. Her intuition, her bewilderment and disbelief at what she’d been feeling, had been incorrect. What she found instead – as she carefully slid in a pick alongside the camera, trying not to move her body in a way that might ‘upset’ the belt in the process – was indeed a smooth, soft surface of what looked like springy chrome. She pushed it down with the pin, regarding the impression that was created – and noting immediately the cliff that was created around the pin, where the metal, rather than ramping back up like the surface of a suspended cloth with a weight placed in it, remained fully raised. It reminded her of those pin art frames you could get in stores, where you could push your hand into one side and see its outline in the pushed out pins on the other.

That’s what made her realise.

This surface was the pins. The thought spun through her head as she moved the camera closer, trying to see how big each pin was, and finding that she basically couldn’t. These pins, packed into rows of what must have been numbers beyond her comprehension, were so thin, so tightly machined, and so densely packed, that she couldn’t even differentiate individual ones. That was incredible.

Rose had already told her what this was. Another hypothetical, another silly thought experiment of her gentle mother bird, had turned out to be a truth that had been hidden from her – almost in plain sight. How was she this stupid?! They were micro-pins! So thin, that… to see individual ones, would require a microscope…

Left with nothing else, Mavis nervously switched the TV off. She racked her brain, but she knew she didn’t have the proper tools for this – she didn’t even know what tools she’d need. Her fist hit the table. What would work here?!

Well… There was one thing…

Could she…?

The brushes were still gently touching her, but the elf was sure that, if she sat down, she could still concentrate. And concentrate Mavis would need to do, for she was about to do the thing that elves were known for being able to do – albeit only with education and practice. She was about to perform purple magic.

Firstly, as was quite standard, she began to cast the red half of the spell.

Red magic – elemental and genetic magic – was the more poorly understood of the two main types of magic. Elves could theoretically use all the elements, though only weakly; for only elementals, dragons, and high-end industrial leyprinters with ridiculous energy and space requirements were able to generate multiple elements on huge scales. This was fine, though, for Mavis wasn’t trying to do anything fancy. She just needed… Just a little bit, of ice.

Slowly, she felt the energy begin to move and reshape, flowing from the pit of her chest up to her shoulders, then down through her arms. Her skin cooled, her body suddenly able to more easily calm down, even momentarily repel the attentions and effects of the belt – moreso by the second, as she continued to concentrate. She peeked her eyes open, regarding her outstretched, whitening hands, but nothing had happened yet. And so she closed them again, trying to ignore the sensation of her sweat freezing in her pores, her fingers numbing. For a being like her, frostbite was always a hazard when casting ice magic. But she had to ignore it. To make the spell happen…

She moved her hands slowly close together, shivering uncontrollably as the cold quickly overtook her, still pushing mentally with all her mind. Finally, she heard it – the soft, gentle shimmer that had years ago at the academy indicated her first success. Her eyes cracked open – quite literally, for the tears that normally coated them had begun to freeze – and she regarded the floating, rotating ball of pure frost that had, from the thaumic energy carried by her blood, formed in front of her. Her flesh had whitened, her veins showing a black outline against her now not only cold, but incredibly itchy skin.

Flux rash. She really was very out of practice, if casting was giving her that so quickly. But she couldn’t let her concentration break. Now was the time for the blue part of the spell.

It would work like this – she’d levitate the undulating mass of liquid frost – illogical, yet very real, and ready to be formed into a spell – into the belt’s lock. She’d then shape the non-water carefully, on an almost atomic level – not manually, for that would be impossible for a mortal mind like hers to do, but algorithmically; making it both tension the lock, and push individually at the pins at the top and bottom until, however subtly, it managed to get them into just the right position that they seemed “in place”. This algorithm was where blue magic – technical magic – came in.

She was sure this would work. This always worked. She knew the algorithm, too, off by heart. And it would only be a small adjustment to make it work across multiple dimensions of pins as long as, somehow, she could detect them setting into place. She’d try from as many directions as needed, resting and recasting to run the algorithm multiple times if necessary.

Quite softly, she began to mutter the same formulas that, months ago, she’d used to open that first, special lock from rose – her fingers tracing out their spellwork forms in the air around the ball of ice. She’d opened others with it, too, though she could open those ones by hand now. It was a spell that had always ensured Mavis didn’t need to lose – and so one that she had been trying for a while to train herself out of eventually resorting to, lest she miss simpler or more practical solutions. It was, in essence, her little lockpicking cheat code; A quite ingenious use of ice magic, the type she’d long held as the only practical one to use for this. The blue half of the spell would likely work, though far less stably, with water – but with fire, electricity, even earth… Not a chance.

Vindictively, now, the elf smiled down at the belt – realising that, for whatever reason, it had stopped stroking her. Not that it would have mattered. At least for the moment, she was almost numb all over, her eyes glowing brightly as her hands began to shake. She realised quite suddenly she couldn’t keep this up much longer, but she didn’t quite know why. Ice magic wasn’t good for the body, and she was out of practice, but her energy pool… For elves, it was much larger than a human’s. Larger than Rose’s, too.  Why was she already starting to feel overstressed?

Something was wrong. It was as if something was taking some of it from her. She shook her head. No matter. Soon, the belt would be defeated. Soon, she would win. For no lock, even ones with a similar pin grid to this, had withstood her ice spell. She watched the ice ball contort, slipping into the lock as her legs opened, as her smile widened. It slid in, further. More and more of it. Then… All of it.

That… Wasn’t what usually happened. Usually, the entire ball was too big, the elf’s size control quite poor, and so most of it would sit outside while only a small amount drove the lock’s mechanisms around. She knew for a fact that the interior of the lock was far too small to fit all of it inside, and yet…

She blinked. She couldn’t ‘feel’ the conjured ice any more. It was like it had…

Had it gone? She stared down at the lock, pushing at it with her fingers and find it completely dry. Her mind probed, trying to withdraw the ice, but that locus – her conjured element – was gone. What on earth had just…

…Had it-

Suddenly, she was bent over the table, a tiny little half-yelp escaping her lips. Between her legs, the belt had restarted. Two tiny, rotating brushes suddenly and viciously attacked her clit, and the underside of the restrained hood behind it. Quickly, as her body rapidly heated up, more pushed between her folds. “MmmMMMMM!” She moaned, her legs turning to jelly as she fell, catching herself on the counter as she instinctively tried to land in a stool that was no longer there, before letting herself fall into a kneel on the floor. Quickly, however, her knees extended on their own, lifting the moaning elf into the air as the unbearable attack continued, as though her body was trying to flinch away from the brushes – only to find that they followed it quite perfectly. “H-Haaaa! Ahhm!” She gasped, strands of saliva connecting her lips as her mouth opened to gasp for air, then, feeling herself crest the wave once more.

Again, she tried desperately to concentrate. To start over. But not only was the belt quickly building her, driving her very, very close, very, very quickly; it felt like her mana reserves were, somehow, completely empty. Her fists beat against the floor as she squeezed herself into a tormented, dripping little ball, the elf’s mouth still only able to produce the same mixture of light gasps and fluttering moans it had before. What had happened? What had it done?

It had countered her. Somehow, some way, it had…

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter! Nothing mattered… She gritted her teeth, moaning into her fists as her legs kicked at the floor. Soon, she was writhing, and for good reason – the belt was going crazy. It was attacking so quickly, so roughly, the ticking that had been quiet and steady before growing louder and faster even as her body slowly reached the peak of what it could take. She flinched and kicked, beginning to drool as she realised it was impossible that it would stop her this time. It was taking her beyond the point of no return, the brushes flicking and stroking at her passage faster and faster by the second.

She was going to cum. She was absolutely sure. Just another… Just one more second, and… Oh, it had started

Suddenly, the elf jumped, shrieking so loudly that it must have been audible outside the house. She flew to her feet, panting and sweating, swearing through gritted teeth as she realised that her head had only narrowly missed the desk above her. It took her a moment to fully understand what had just happened.

There had been no torturous few seconds where the brushes gently tailed off. It had built her too fast for that, and she’d known, delightedly craving the coming orgasm that no amount of gentleness, not even stopping, would have quelled. It was then that she’d felt it – a freezing, ice-cold cold nub, but for its present temperature not unlike the ones that had tormented her insides yesterday. Her clit had throbbed hard as it touched her, and not with pleasure. With shock, and not a small amount of discomfort. The touch lasted only a few moments, not nearly long enough for her body to get used to the cold, but clearly enough to painfully extinguish her peaking arousal. With it, all of the metal of the belt, too, had gone cold – the effects of the elf’s body heat over the last day of wear dissipating in an instant as her hands pushed and pounded at it.

Mavis couldn’t help but suck air through her teeth as she began to shiver. Angry tears ran down her face, her legs stomping at the floorboards with frustration as she tried and failed to control her arousal with thought alone, writhing gently against the slippery floor. Why wasn’t the belt doing the same thing as yesterday?! Why did it have to do this, now?! Had it… Oh, no. No…!

It had absorbed the ice element she’d generated. All of it. All of that energy she’d expended, too, plus more that she’d tried to, and that the belt had been too quick to absorb. That ice, that she had tried to use on this awful chastity belt… Now, it was going to be used on her.

With a choked gasp, she realised what that meant.

The belt chose to work her slowly this time – as if the first time had just been a demonstration, a short version of the long, cruel tease it was about to do. And indeed, it had been much shorter – for the full version would make use of the ice multiple times, and last for the rest of the day.

It began as her hands strained at the cold steel, the elf gasping with exertion as she tugged and shook at the belt. Gently, then, and oh so lightly, the brushes touched and pricked at her clit. Now, however, there was something more aggressive about them. More vindictive. And, somehow, far more infuriating.

Mavis shut her eyes, tight, but the magic she’d used had now doubled the sensitivity of her soft flesh to the brushes. For a while, she wondered if the belt hadn’t noticed, but as soon became clear, it certainly had.

Enough of this! Enough! She just needed to, just… She moved over to the windowsill, mounting it, trying not to fuck it like she had the sofa the previous day – even as her sex began to throb under the belt’s careful ministrations. She didn’t care about anyone seeing her like this from the garden any more, and the warmth of the sun was a cold comfort as she looked down at the phone. Somehow, she had to get in touch with Rose. Somehow, some way…

She picked it up, slowly dialling the number as she took several steady breaths.

“Cloudwell Inn, Penny speaking! Can I take the name?”

“I-It’s me again, Penny.” Mavis gasped. “It’s Mavis…”

The voice soured. “Sweetheart, for the last bleeding time-“

“Please!” Mavis interrupted, her voice quite desperate. “J-Just, let me speak to my Rose… It’s important, s-so please-”

“Mrs. Mavis, if you don’t cease and desist harassing this establishment with your indecency, we shall have to block your phone number. I’ve told you not to bother your poor wife.”

“T-Then just tell me how I get this thing off!” Mavis begged. “Please, it’s so intense… I don’t know how to make it stop!”

“I’ve had just about enough of you!” The voice snapped at her. “The church’s belts aren’t something that you can just get off, you know. And as for the setting being too intense – there’s no such thing. Your wife has the divine right to manage your chastity however she likes. As the one who brought you into the church, it’s her responsibility to punish and train away all of this unreasonable, sinful behavior of yours. You, at the same time, ought to be using this opportunity to reflect and pray, rather than bothering her at a time like this. Honestly, she’s stressed up to the eyeballs. She told me she was sure she hadn’t passed. Do you really think I’m going to send a message up to her room, just a few minutes after she walked in, asking her to talk to you?! I’d be surprised if I didn’t get a complaint.”

Please…! Look – I’m not supposed to be in this thing, i-it’s a mistake-”

“You’re lying to me now? Right, that’s absolutely it, I’m blocking your number.“

“W-Wait!” Mavis half screamed. “I’m s-sorry! I’m sorry, please don’t!”

“From the moment we started talking, you’ve been dishonest with me, Mrs. Mavis! You tried to hide that you were being punished, and now you’re trying to tell me that somehow, you’re wearing a Featherlight by accident? Do you think I was born yesterday?!”

“I’m trying to tell you the truth! P… Please…!”

“Then tell me the truth, Mrs. Mavis. Be honest with me, right now, or I’ll make sure you and your wife don’t get to talk until she arrives home. As she likely intended.”

Mavis’s eyes closed, her face reddening, as she realised that this angel would never accept the truth. Softly, she began to speak, barely able to bear the implications of what she was saying. “F-Fine, I… I was, a bad girl,” She lied, her eyes welling with tears. “And… She’s punishing me…”

“For?”

“F-For…” Mavis shut her eyes tight. “G-Going through her things… Reading her books… Messing with her, l-locks, and belts…”

“Disgraceful.” The voice said. “Listen to you. What a little kleptomaniac you must be. Have you been punished for this before?”

Mavis didn’t have to lie this time. “Um, y-yes…”

“And you did it again anyway? Why!?”

“Because, s-she wouldn’t be honest with me…! She wouldn’t tell me anything!”

“What gives you the right to know every little thing about her?” Penny hissed. “Is it not enough that she not only dotes on you, but speaks fondly about you to her friends loud enough that I can hear from this desk? Do you know what happens to her if she breaks her oaths of secrecy? Do you know what happens to her career? To her qualifications?! You must-”

NO!” Mavis screamed, finally losing her temper. “No, I don’t! I don’t know anything about anything, and I’m sick of it!” She burst into tears, her legs kicking at the wall. “I can’t… take… this!”

It was a moment before the voice spoke again. “I’m sympathetic, dear.” Penny said, as the elf gasped and cried, bending forward as the cruel belt continued to torment her body. “Really, I am. But it sounds quite justified, and there’s really no way a Featherlight will come off without the key. They’re well tested. Chartered belts all are. That said, I can… Put in, a good word for you, if you want. Tell her that you’ve… Learned your lesson. That you deserve some comfort, some peace. It’s a very intense punishment – a needed learning experience, perhaps – but, still, you’ll have to wait. Wait, and bear it.” She sighed. “It must be so hard…”

“Can’t you… H-ha, get her?” Mavis pleaded. “Please?”

“I don’t want to make her any more stressed that she is right now, dear. But dinner for all of them is soon. I’ll ask her to give you a call then, okay?”

Mavis’s eyes closed. “Okay,” She said, quietly.

“Bye now.”

Slowly, and with shaking hands, Mavis laid the phone back into its cradle. Eventually, slowly becoming used to the onslaught of the brushes, she managed to get up. Still quite desperate, the elf made her way gingerly into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Unable to think of anything else she could try for now, she began with shaking hands to prepare a meal that she knew she didn’t want. As she waited for the toaster, however, her control over her breathing began to slip again. She snarled at the belt, incensed and, at the same time, fearful of what it would do next.

The routine didn’t seem to change, but Mavis’s reaction to it did. Because the gentle pokes and pricks of the brushes; that touching and twisting, those sharp, feather-light kisses at her twitching, throbbing sex… Didn’t stop. They remained constant, quite unending. After ten minutes of it, Mavis’s heels were tapping at the ground, her legs restless as she poured hot water into a mug, staring confusedly at it before she realised she hadn’t added a teabag. As she sat slowly eating, twenty minutes after she had first entered the room, she felt her sex – and, soon after, the metal around it – begin to drip moisture down her shivering thighs again. Between trying to eat, she cringed and gasped, wondering how much worse it might get. Thirty minutes, and she had her answer, her feet kicking at the floor as her whitening fingers pried and wrenched at the friend shield, hopelessly trying to separate it from her body as the brushes continued to poke and twirl, swirl and twitch against the elf’s throbby, achy little snatch. Still quick, light touches – never longer than a quarter of a second, and yet… It was quite unbearable now. But as the elf began to beat her fists against the belt and table, her legs pushing her to her feet as she pried desperately at the hard waistband, tilting it, shaking it, kneading and wrenching at it… She was only half way through the journey the belt had laid out for her.

Forty minutes, and she had tried to slip almost every piece of cutlery in the kitchen that was dull enough to do so beneath the rapidly dripping front shield. Every butter knife, every fork, every handle of every spoon. Both pairs of scissors – which Rose had started storing alongside their cutlery, much to Mavis’s annoyance. Her letter opener, now, was in the midst of the latest attempt. She angled it, shoving and pushing with all her might as she tilted the thing left and right, trying alternately to pry the front shield up, and lever the tool further in. Thanks to the belt’s metal leaves, though – those same leaves she’d seen before – nothing would slide under it. Every tool was being redirected into tight pits, caught between tight metal sheets until, grunting angrily, the elf pulled it free. Infuriated, she eventually withdrew the letter opener, and with it a string of moisture that she angrily wiped away. Somehow, while doing so, she’d managed to force down the last of the tea and toast. But what little appetite she’d had was now completely gone. As, soon, was her ability to form any kind of coherent thought.

The elf became quite wild after the fifty minute mark passed. Panting and gasping, she tried to ignore the sound of the table creaking under the weight of her knee; Despite knowing that it was useless, and apart from that, obscene, Mavis couldn’t help but keep fucking the edge. The horrible brushes were tormenting her again, flicking and prodding and pricking and touching at her desperately quivering, twitching clit; teasing softly at its tip, its base, its every edge. Still, even now, quick, careful little touches. But now, she was so, so close. So close. She just needed, just a little more! If just one of the brushes, any one, would just linger just a little longer, that might… She might… “Mmmh!” She sobbed, her shaking arm gripping the wobbling chair as, finally, her stamina ran out and she fell back onto it. She pawed at the belt desperately, her hands squeaking up and down. Pressing harder and moving faster as she tried desperately to feel something, anything more than the relentless, torturous touches. The pattern had finally changed, now, but only subtly – only two additional brushes. One poking and tickling at that one spot, deep inside her, that the belt had found earlier – the one that now drove her absolutely insane when it was touched in any way – and one just. Ever so gently, tracing. And caressing, at her lips… Around and around, and then. Up. And down… Mavis didn’t know which was the worst. She didn’t care to reason. The torture went on and on, until her whole body itched and ached with frustration.

By sixty minutes, the elf could only slump against the table. Her chest heaved as she drew one long, shuddering breath after another. By seventy, she was gently, quietly pleading in a voice that only grew higher, more forlorn, anguished and desperate, to be allowed to cum. Her feet beat at the floor, her body only able to endure and endure as, still, the brushes pricked and caressed at her body, holding her still, even now, just… Just shy. Only just. With perfect, mechanical precision, careful, measured little stroke after stroke, touch after touch. Silent, glacial caresses, slow and feather soft – slight touch, after touch, after touch… Somehow, the belt knew not only how much stimulation would be too much, but exactly how much was enough. And through that knowledge, it ensured that no matter how the elf craned her body around, she could get no further or closer. Every touch of the clockwork arms and brushes and nubs was perfectly considered, intricately balanced, and mechanically measured. She would have marvelled at it, were it not so utterly maddening – swooned masochistically at the idea of such treatment, were it not her it was happening to, and quite against her will. Again, the elf began to struggle wildly against the waistband wound tightly around her body, quietly pleading and begging for release as her juices, no longer a drip but now a thin, constant stream, dribbled down the legs of the chair; and yet the belt was adamant in both its cruelty, and the tyrannical snugness of its grip on her pelvis. This state was the one in which the elf was to be kept, now – confined, held against her will, no matter how desperately she tried to escape.

Eighty minutes, and she was again pawing at the shield, her whitening knuckles driving it hopelessly up and down. Still, the brushes masterfully held her on edge, barely affected at all by the jolting as she began to bounce up and down in her seat. Ninety minutes and, her toes clenched, Mavis couldn’t take it any more. She moaned and whimpered into her arms, writhing against her seat, her hands rubbing themselves raw against the shield. She was so much closer with every passing minute, and yet, still so, so far.

She had had no idea that the moment right before orgasm could be drawn out for so long, so viscerally. Her hands had on their own balled into fists, hitting the waistband hopelessly as the sensations drove her back up and down the chair, the elf humping the air now. She could barely hold back her voice, her moans filling the room as her entire sex screamed desperately with sensation, dulling her every other sense.

She was so, so close. But at ninety minutes… At a hundred minutes, she was almost… So, very nearly…

It was now, however, that the belt finally began to change things up.

Each and every silky soft brush, very, very slowly, began to transition from poking and teasing at her nethers, to stroking and caressing them, as it had the night before. The strokes were so glacially slow, so light, that if Mavis had been any less aroused they would’ve been almost imperceptible; With how sensitive she’d become, however, they were utterly intolerable. The patterns and shapes that they drew, as she approached a hundred and ten minutes, grew increasingly complex, until it was unbearable. The elf began to panic, then, her moans loudening enough to fill the room as it finally unleashed a full assault on her body – one that was complemented quite suddenly and excruciatingly by sudden touches of the freezing nubs, making her flinch and gasp. Each one followed, again and again, by flicks and strokes of brushes that slowly, glacially drew patterns and circles into her hot, tingling flesh, gently tickling her drenched sex until she screamed and gasped into her arms, crying bitterly in frustration. It wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t… Oh, she was getting so desperate now. Still, she was so, so close, but still, somehow, she wasn’t… She wasn’t quite…

“M-More, please just more…” She gasped, her husky breaths clouding up the varnished wood. “Mmmmmh! Mooooore! MORE!”

For another ten minutes, then twenty, the elf was bent over the table, her hands massaging the front of the shield desperately as her legs trembled and shook. She gasped helplessly when, out of nowhere, the belt turned cold again, multiple freezing nubs assaulting her for a moment before the brushes came back, fuller than ever. She moaned and yelped, jumping to her feet as her chair hit the counter behind her, landing on its back. “STOP IT!” She pleaded, nearly hysterical as she stumbled out of the room, unable to hold back her moans and gasps.

In the hallway, she collapsed onto the floor, panting and gasping as she again tilted the belt helplessly left and right, her hands shaking as she strained and wrenched at the waistband, then the front shield. Then, hopelessly, desperately, the waistband again, as she wildly tilted her body around, hammering at the metal, straining and wrenching at it, trying hopelessly to crane around it, trying everything she could think of to get free from it. The brushes were all tracing her now, all moving so, so slow, touching her so, so lightly. About twice a second each one momentarily touched down, pricking soft little lines into the lining of her vagina, her lips, her twitching, shuddering clit. The orgasm approached suddenly, rapidly, as each became momentarily more aggressive – but right as it would’ve happened, another icy set of nubs pushed themselves against her – propelling the elf up the wall to her feet.

“MMMMMMMMH! STOP IT!” She cried, her voice cracking as she felt yet more gentle bristles prickle and poke at her flesh, the nubs now momentarily pushing hard and moving apart – pulling sections of her skin tight to be brushed, and brushed. “S-Stop… Please! I need to cum…” She shuddered, shaking with exertion as she drove her weight into the solid waistband again and again – but even all of the elf’s might wouldn’t shift it at all.

“C-Come on, f-fucking, come on, please…”

She couldn’t take a moment more. She had to get to… Where could she go?! Where could she bear this out? Would it ever stop?! And, h-how was-

Suddenly, in her workshop, the phone rang. “Mmmhmmmmahahmmm, h-haaa!” Mavis gasped. Somehow, in the moments before the belt once again built her to the point of being too wound up to stand, she lurched into the workshop, grabbed the phone, and sat down at the window ledge with it, pulling up her knees to her chest, and noticing how the belt still refused to let her fully close them.

“H-Helloo…?” She tried, quickly covering the receiver with her hand as a moan slipped out.

“Mavis?” Rose’s voice said. “Honey? Is that you?”

Mavis’s heart lept. It was Rose! It was… It was Rose…

“R-R-Ros-se.” She gasped. “H-Hello! Mmh, Rose…”

“Are you okay?” The angel said.

“M-Mm! H-How did you, d-do? With…”

“Mavis, it’s so wonderful! I passed with flying colors. I’ve got the qualification, but, Mavis, what the hell is wrong with you?! Did you catch a cold?! I was going to call you later, but, the receptionist lady caught me just now-”

“I…” Mavis said softly. “I, um… MmM! Can you tell me h-, mmh, how to open the s-safe…?”

“…What?”

Mavis’s teeth chattered. “I nneed to-“

“Mavis, sweetie, you don’t need any of the things in there. Just wait for me to get home, okay? We’ll talk then.”

“B-But-!”

“Mavis, you sound like you’ve got a terrible fever. Did I not tell you to stay inside? Get yourself tucked up in bed. I’m fine, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s been, emotional. But I’m just about to have dinner, and after that I’ll be turning in early for the trip back. I really don’t have a lot of time, is what I’m trying to say-”

“Rose, it’s not that!” Mavis cried. “It’s, It’s, haah… Really…” Her tears dripped onto the windowsill, her face contorting with frustration as her toes curled desperately. “Rose, I’m… I, mmmh,” She swallowed. “I went… In your room…”

“What?” The angel said. “Mavis! Do I really have to- W-Well, as long as you didn’t touch anything, it’s okay, but, really? There’s some really dangerous things in there! I couldn’t have you ending up-“

“Listen, please!” The elf yelped, silencing the angel’s rant. “I’m…” She paused, not bothering to cover the bottom of the phone as she moaned softly, taking a shaky breath. “Rose… How do you get a featherlight off without the key?!“

The angel was silent for a long time. Finally, she spoke. “Um, you don’t, Mavis…”

“W-What?” Mavis said. “No, Rose, there must be some way. Every lock, every i-installation-“

“Mavis, this isn’t funny!” The angel yelped. “You’re scaring me. And hearing you ask that question is making me really angry.” Her voice raised in pitch, Mavis hearing a slam as the background noise of the call was suddenly gone. “You need to understand something, Mavis; I can’t protect you if you do things like this!” The angel tried to collect herself as best she could, but she was clearly struggling to even keep her voice level enough not to draw attention. “Look, just, tell me what you did. Please.”

“I, h-h… I’m wearing a featherlight, Mavis.”

The angel was silent.

“You had one under your bed, a-and I, um, put it on… That was yesterday afternoon. The key’s in your safe, I d-dropped it in, but, I can’t pick the lock on the belt open, I’ve been trying for nearly two, d-days – if you could just, tell me how the safe opens, I could get it off…! A-And I promise I won’t look at anything, or touch anything else. I’ve, l-learned my lesson. Mhh… S-So-”

“Mavis…” Rose whimpered. “Mavis, I’m coming. I’m coming home. Just… Please, try to bear it. I’m coming. I wish I could give you the combination for that safe, but, it’s very, very dangerous for both of us if I do that, and it’s not something you can say down a phone line either.” The angel was struggling to control her own breathing, her two hearts clearly pounding with fear. “I’m going to get on the first flight back tonight, though!” She promised. “I-I’ll skip dinner. They… Won’t know. Just, please, try to hang in there-”

“I can’t, Rose!” Mavis pleaded. “It’s torture…! It’s making me more desperate than I’ve ever felt in my life! Please, you don’t have to come back! I just need… Tell me how to get into the safe, ple-”

“I SAID NO!” Mavis flinched, as the angel screamed into the phone, slamming her fist into the wall. “MAVIS, I TOLD YOU!” She shrieked. “I TOLD YOU!” She caught herself, her breath shaking as Mavis heard the door open behind her. “Hmm?!” The angel said suddenly. “N-No, I’m okay! No, it’s fine. It’s… It’s nothing, okay? I’ll be out- I’ll be out in a minute. I’m okay. Can you, um, tell the others I’m not going to be able to make it to dinner? Something’s come up at home. Yeah, it’s… Yeah. Thanks, Azzie.” The door shut, the angel breathing a long sigh. “Mavis?” She said, softly. “Are you there, still?”

“Yes…” Mavis sobbed.

Rose sighed. “Why didn’t you listen to me, Mavis?” She asked quietly. “And why would you put that thing on, and discard the key?”

Mavis’s lip wobbled. She didn’t know what to say. She knew the reason. But, out loud… Wouldn’t it sound so petulant, so utterly egotistical and idiotic, that the angel would surely never be able to love her again?

“Mavis, are you okay?” Rose said, her voice softening. “I can hear you crying, you know.”

“I’m losing my mind here, Rose,” The elf whimpered.

“Will you give me an answer?” The angel asked. “Please? That belt was entrusted to me, you know. It’s not mine. It’s definitely not yours. I just, want a reason-”

“The reason is I’m a fucking idiot, Rose, okay!?” Mavis yelped. “H-Haa!” She whimpered, the belt attacking her harder as she tried desperately to bear the sensations enough not to start moaning down the phone again.

“Excuse you.” The angel growled. “What do you think you’re saying about my favourite person in the whole world?”

“Can you just come home, then, please?!” The elf hissed. “I can’t take this any more… I’m going to try and saw it off, at this rate. I’ve been trying not to, I don’t want to damage it-“

“You won’t be able to.” Rose said sadly. “You’re quite welcome to try, though; I never got around to doing the resistance checks myself. Anything that makes you feel better.” The angel was silent for a moment. “We’ll take it off when I get home,” She promised. “And… We’ll need to talk about this. And, I guess, we’ll have to take steps, to… Make sure this can’t happen again.” She took a shaky breath. “I apologise in advance, Mavis.” She said quietly. “And I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Mavis shuddered, lowering the phone into its cradle as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Her feet tapped, then pitter pattered at the window ledge as she gritted her teeth. Again, the elf began to moan, the brushes gently drawing patterns into her drenched sex as she began to hit her head against her knees, unable to steady her breath. “Horrible thing…” She whispered, her heart pounding with dread.

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