Handcuffs And Other Ties

The handcuffs are truly a work of art; thick, dark leather that embraces the skin, sealed by three shining locks on each wrist. A bit overkill, perhaps, but anything less and Artoria (Caster, she who chants, master lockpicker) would free herself in a minute flat.

You kiss her full on the mouth, this little thief. The handcuffs click against the bedframe as she tries to raise her hands.

"Seems like you are at my mercy," you whisper when you finally parts your lips from hers.

"Not for long," she grunts out. "Soon as I get out, I'll- ah!" she jolts as you duck your head beneath her jaw, sucking a hickey against her throat. You can feel her breath stutter when she quivers under your lips. "I'll f-fucking- get you-"

Unfortunately, she's right; you are on a strict time limit here, and therefore can't dwindle on her neck (delicious as it is) as much as you normally would. So instead you undo the knot of her bowtie, pop open the button of her blouse, and move down to mouth at her chest.

Truth be told, you don't care much for bondage. It doesn't do anything to you one way or another. If you had to pick, you prefer it when her arms are free to hold you close, even if her fingernails are proving disastrous for your back. But there is great merit in being able to touch her breasts as you please, without any arm or hand getting in the way.

"I fucking love your tits." You say, because you do. Who cares if they're small! They're soft and cute and fit just right in the palm. When nose their underside you can make them bounce. And that skin is so sensitive! They redden and bruise effortlessly, and each lick and nip make her sigh and moan.

She inhales suddenly as you drag the flat of your tongue across her nipple. "You say that about- about everything on me."

"Because I do love everything about you." Can she see? She has Fairy Eyes. Can she see that you mean it? Can she see what she's doing to you?

"I love your tits," you reiterate, kissing her sternum. "And your little belly. And your flat ass. And your legs." You let a hand wander across a thigh for emphasis. "Down to each of your toes."

You trail kisses all the way to her collarbone. "I love your throat. And your arms, and your hands. And your little fangs. I love your voice when I get you moaning, and your voice when you're a bit mean to me. I love you. I love you. I love you."

God. God, you adore this girl. You wish you had a dozen more mouths to kiss her right, and a dozen more hands to touch her right. You want her everything; the sight of her, the sound of her, her smell, her taste. She drives you a little insane, in that way love tends to do, but that is a madness you welcome wholeheartedly.

There is a light click, almost imperceptible; and suddenly, every lock of the handcuff fall open at once, and her hands grab your cheeks to bring you into a kiss. By the time she's done, you're panting, and your head feels a little dizzy.

"Got you," she says with a grin, sticking her tongue out- that very same tongue you had in your mouth seconds prior.

"That was- that was fast."

"You were distracted."

"I was trying to distract you."

She giggles, and kisses you once more. Against your lips, you can feel her smile, proud and smug.

"Alright, alright. I bow down to your lockpicking skills."

Artoria's grin gets wider. Her fangs on display, she looks like an animal ready to pounce.

Ah, bondage is nice. You like having more leeway to move and touch her. But this- this is your favorite part; Artoria, bristling with confidence, her fingers firm in your hair, ready to claim her prize.

"Then bow," she says, and pushes your head between her legs.