Fade to Blink - A Quantum Date Ch. 02

*-*-*-

"You want to grab some dinner?"

I looked up from my desk. Jimmie was acting as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. At least, I thought everything had changed. How was I to know that the bugs we'd discovered the night before weren't even close to "everything?"

I looked around the room to see who was watching; everyone's heads were buried in their work. They knew we were a thing; shit, the amount of time we were spending together at work would have been enough. Forget about the stolen kisses and groping in the stairwells.

"You...I..." The orange fog was swirling just at hearing his voice, at smelling him. I pressed my thighs together, convinced everyone could hear the sound of my quim...my pussy it's your pussy now; it's your cunt, bitch, embrace it...squishing. The edging had fucked up my productivity and I needed it to end. Soon. "How can you just act like everything is normal?" I exhaled the words as quietly as I could, knowing it was a risk to even broach the topic at work.

He raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. "Dinner?"

I sighed and nodded. "Yeah. You have a place in mind?"

"I was thinking take-out. My place."

I stared at him, even as I nodded, trying to decipher what the message was. Why his place when we knew there were bugs? The obvious reason was he wanted to torment me some more. I hadn't had a chance to share the conversation I'd had with Marybeth from the morning, so maybe he thought we needed to lay more 'breadcrumbs.' I shivered.

"What? I was thinking Tomei's. You like that place."

I nodded again. "Yum!" I said with as much enthusiasm as I could, playing for some unseen audience. Is this what my life is turning into? Some paranoid surveillance play? "But why not my place for a change?"

He smiled and shook his head slightly. "It wouldn't be fitting at your place." His smile widened to a toothy grin when he saw my eyes widen.

Oh fuck. He'd figured out the widget. I could feel the yellow orange syrup loosen into my vag, my eyes glancing down to my file cabinet. I'd been bringing changes of underwear lately. As soon as Jimmie left, I'd need to go to the bathroom. Fuck fuck fuck! He'd fucked me up so bad...so good. I closed my eyes trying to get my feelings under control.

"I'll take that as a yes!" His hand came down to rub my neck, a pet for his pet.

*-*-*-*

We left work together, Jimmie springing for an auto, obviously eager to get me fitted out. Even though we were alone in the car, the pilot was always listening, and who the fuck knew where that audio was going. If MEI's security training hadn't been enough, the extra layer of paranoia from our extra-curricular activities made our conversation extra-boring.

"Going forward," he turned to me as he unlocked the door to his apartment, "there's no need for you to be dressed here." He opened the door and let me enter first. "And no need for me to ask you to get undressed."

I just looked at him and stared, processing the sentence even as I dropped my bag in the usual place. "Okaayyy," I stood in the entry watching his back as he closed and locked the door, deciding whether this was just more of the game or this was Jimmie and me. For reals.

He turned and smiled at me. "Here, or at your place. CMNF from now on, yeah?" He pulled me into an embrace and kissed me, not letting me protest or question or...fuckkkkkk. My pussy was so wet, my insides were so gooey, the lightning from that kiss traveled down my spine and sparked my clit. I felt it grow and push against its hood. I knew the reference. I just didn't expect it to ever apply to me. Welp. Now it does, I guess.

I stood there after he pulled away, and I slowly began unbuttoning my blouse, watching him turn into the room, no doubt to get the belt. By the time he'd returned, I was down to my underwear, my clothes a messy pile next to my bag.

"Let's see how this works now!" I looked up at the excitement in his voice, shimmying out of the shorts, noticing the stain on the cotton lining, my smell so strong I couldn't believe he hadn't said something.

He was sitting on the couch, his head turned to watch me, the thing resting on the table. I walked over, crossing in front of him, looking at it: once again a strange conglomeration of off-white plastic and fabric, only this version was more alien, more fluid, more organic. I picked it up as I sat down and studied it, Jimmie's motion beside me letting me know he was excited...or worried...or...I held it on my lap, the plastic cool against my thighs and looked at him. "What?" He was smiling, his eyes glancing down at the belt. Eyes, stubble, belt, breasts, nipples, pubic hair, belt, thighs, trousers, shirt, breasts, eyes. I sighed and sat back, closing my eyes, my hands still gripping the thing.

"Here," he said, gently removing it from my fingers. "Let me give you a tour.

"The first thing is the waistband. I'm sorry I hadn't thought about that more. This version is lined with fabric, and some quilting too."

I opened my eyes and looked. There was a band of plastic, about two fingers wide that made an open "C," the ends of which had some complex arrangement that obviously was meant to create a connection or latch. I focused on where his fingers were pointing out the changes and nodded.

"And here," he rotated the belt to reveal the revised design, "is where I think you'll be much happier with the results."

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, Jimmie. I don't need this thing at all, but, whatever." I knew I couldn't stop him, even if we were alone, but I also knew this was as much for the unseen listeners as for him.

"The key problem, other than the waistband, was not appreciating your anatomy as I should have. Take a look:

"To prevent you from playing with yourself, I've created this indentation here, and this cup, here."

He turned the thing to show me how a strip of plastic, almost the width of my hand, came down from the waistband, curling under into a fluid, organic sequence of bumps and holes before splitting into two and curving back to attach to the waistband at its open ends.

"Here. It'll be a lot easier to explain once it's on you. Try it on!"

He handed it back to me, his excitement almost infectious. Whatever we were doing, I had to admit it wasn't like anything else I'd done, the bizarreness of it momentarily obliterating my self-consciousness. I stood up and positioned it with the open ends facing backwards, the main vertical strip pressing against my mound before its curve slipped between my legs. He jumped up to help...and to see how close he'd gotten to designing it to fit me.

"Let me help." He took the open ends and clicked them together, the waistband becoming a closed 'O' hanging against the thrust of my hips.

I looked down to see the wide strip coming down the front of my pubis, hiding most of my pubic hair before curling under. The first bump, much smaller than the one after it, about the size of a thimble, pushed out, pointing away from me.

"Okay. The secret to fitting it is getting these positioned just so." He turned me to face him as he knelt down, his face even with my waist. "Let's start with this one. Spread your legs a little, Annie." He stopped and looked up at me. "Wow you are turned on. You smell delicious." He inhaled deeply. I blushed, hearing it through an imaginary headset.

He reached inside the curved strip, his fingers pulling my inner lips apart. I gasped from the touch, involuntarily pushing against him. In the next moment, he shimmied the larger of the bumps, the one facing inwards, into my vagina, spreading my inner labia until the hump's plastic edges were seated tightly against me. It wasn't uncomfortable as much as it was...weird.

"Perfect! It's perfect! Here. Feel it."

I moved my fingers down and felt where the bump had created a plastic cavity, pushing into my qui...pussy, my cunt, my inner labia squished open, the outer lips enveloping the edges of the intruder. Running my fingers around the edges, I was surprised to feel how smooth they were, how seamlessly they fit against my opening. I kept going, tracing the edges to the back of my opening, feeling where the plastic split into two, exposing my perineum and anus, before traveling up my buns. Returning my fingers toward the front, I felt the wet stickiness of my slit before bumping into the hump that poked out, its edges also seated firmly against my inner labia. As I slowly traced the edges of the thimble, I realized the cup formed a seal around my clit, my hood firmly secured behind it.

"Fuckkkk, Jimmie." I tried pushing on the cup, testing whether I could stimulate myself in spite of it. I could feel something, a slight ping as the base pushed against the top of my urethra and pubic bone, but my clit was well behind the top of the cup.

He was fiddling with something behind me, pulling the waistband tighter and up a little, seating the vaginal cup into me more firmly, the clitoral cup now standing out and down a little. I tried pushing on the little bump again, and the sensation was different, but no better than before. The more I pressed, the more the cup's edges pushed my clit away from my finger, effectively isolating it.

"How does that feel? Too tight?" He let go. "Walk around a little and let me know if I need to tighten it more or let it out."

I took a step, feeling the waistband's fabric rubbing lightly against my skin, the two cups moving against me, the straps sliding smoothly against my butt cheeks. I walked around the couch, watching him studying the belt. Except for the skin that had been irritated already, the thing didn't rub me at all; the two cups working against my pussy in a way that I began to realize would make life even more difficult. They were slightly stimulating, but not enough to do anything other than keep me self-conscious and aroused.

"Fuck you, Jimmie," I said with a whispered admiration. He really had figured this thing out, and I had to grant him props. My fingers drifted down between my legs, hitting the clit-cup unexpectedly and curling up inside where they were brought short by the vag-cup. In between, the juiciness of my pussy leaked out where my urethra was left exposed.

"Let's see you pee."

I just shook my head at how easy it came to him; how normal he made it sound. Like, sure, everyone just pees when they're asked to. Especially wearing a custom-built chastity belt. With an audience listening. I turned and walked to his bathroom, seeing him move quickly to watch. The thing fit me perfectly, the belts gently massaging my waist and buns.

He leaned against the vanity as I sat down on the seat, expecting the plastic to dig in, but surprised at how it shifted without pinching or rubbing.

"Spread your legs, pet. I want to see if it needs adjusting." He had knelt down in front of me, just like a couple of nights before, his hands pushing my knees open. I cringed at the nickname, knowing he meant it for reals, the prior night's lesson still fresh. I unconsciously rubbed my buns, remembering the spanking, but it was mostly just mental; the skin only mildly irritated.

And, like the other night, I didn't think I could just pee on command, made even more self-conscious at the thought we were being recorded, but I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles, feeling the liquid pushing down until I heard the first drops hitting the water. And then the stream flowed unhindered, the pressure and sensation spreading up into my clit from behind, except the clit-cup prevented stimulation from in front. I reached for the toilet paper and wiped, again bumping into the cup in front, but easily sliding over the plastic edges.

"You should be good to go in back, too," he said, looking up at me, his hands still on my knees, his tone suggesting he didn't think I needed to demonstrate that function. He shifted back and stood up, his hands coming to rest on my cheeks, holding me. "I mean, it's not a permanent thing, so, by Monday...Tuesday at the latest, we can take it off for reals."

I looked at him, wide-eyed at the thought he'd keep me captive in this for almost a week, the orange swirl a constant echo from the teasing he'd given me the night before. I could feel my clit pulse at the thought, my finger unconsciously going to rub it, to give it some relief, blocked by the cup. The movement wasn't lost on him.

"I mean," he corrected himself, smiling at my discomfort, "that assumes you're going to behave like a good little puppy." He stroked my hair and held me, staring into my eyes. I could see how much this meant to him, how much I was turning him on. I glanced down to see the bulge in his pants. He must be as frustrated as I am! The thought quickly extinguished, when I realized how many times he'd cum since Friday: in my mouth, in my...cunt...in my ass...and on me...the memory of waking up with, scratching at, the strands of dried semen across my breasts.

*-*-*-*

"We need to talk, Jimmie," I whispered in his ear while the toilet flushed and the sink water got up to temp.

He nodded, understanding. "Not here," he mouthed.

I cocked my head and raised one eyebrow, my silent, snarky you think? provoking a smile and lowered eyebrows. Oh shit. Another spanking I guess. I shrugged and let him lead me out of the bathroom.

We were both startled by the doorbell and a notification from his screen, a pulse of adrenaline shooting up my spine.

"Tomei's. I'll get it."

I moved away from the entry and grabbed place settings, marveling at the comfort of this new version of the belt, the plastic and fabric gently moving across my skin. And then mentally poking myself at how easily I was settling into this new relationship. Puppy. Pet. He's training you. Standing at the table, putting down silverware, I had almost forgotten what he'd done to me the night before, and I huffed out a small laugh. As if. I tried to remember if there had been any moments during the day when I'd not thought about what he'd done to me: my agreeing to being his pet, relinquishing control over my body, over what I even called my body, the sheer frustration of my ruined orgasms. Since Friday I'd come to the realization that Jimmie's kink was way beyond anything I'd had with my other boyfriends.

Putting out glasses and napkins, I tried to ignore the little puffs of anxiety that came each time I imagined Jimmie's intentions. I stood at the table, closed my eyes and did my breathing exercises, shaking my head at how stupid, stupid, stupid I was being.

"Hey hey!" I looked up at the sound of the door closing and saw his smiling face, holding two bags, the anxiety dissipating: greyish wisps mixed with the orange fog.

A smog of emotion. I grunted a quiet self-deprecating laugh, nodded at him as we passed each other: he moving to the table to lay out the food, me going to grab a towel. I could feel moisture gathering behind my labia.

*-*-*-*

"Fuckkk," I hissed out before I could catch myself, my eyes wide, alarmed that I'd have to cover for the microphones, but I'd been shocked at what I'd seen.

He looked over at me, mid-bite, his eyes darting to my face and down to my screen. He raised his eyebrows. "Wassup?"

"This article. I had no idea!" I motioned to the screen, turning it for him to read. I had intended to scan through my feeds but was interrupted by the snaps I'd taken at Marybeth's the night before. Her security report. "Did you know how far they'd gotten in that asteroid mining thing?"

New Hire Eval: MTS Anne Scolfield, HQ03.14.30

Date: May 20, 2032

Evaluator: Piedmont

Summary: NH is 82% likely candidate based on Midkash (93), Benson (89) and Rodriguez (9). Objective evaluation points to strong potential, but subjective engagement indicates aberrations from norm.

Recommendation: Move candidate to the next stage; confirm she is engaging with conditioning.

"I mean, what the actual fuck!?" I watched as he read, chewing his mouthful to buy time.

"I know, right? I'd seen that a couple of months ago in Astronomy America." He looked back at me, his eyes wide, shaking his head. 'I don't have a fucking clue.' was the best I could figure from his mouthing words. I shivered, looking around, the scene suddenly overwhelming me: breasts, belt, noodles, screen, Jimmie's eyes, mouth, shirt, buttons, take out boxes, hands, screen, nipples. The sensation of the towel against my cheeks, still sensitive from his spanking the night before, the air against my nipples, the sheer insanity of what I had fallen into. I closed my eyes and felt the tears ooze out onto my cheeks, stifling my voice to keep them from hearing.

1st Week June 32 Friday

By week's end I was almost crawling the walls because of the chastity belt. At work I moved through the ceremonies like a robot, so dull even George asked about my health. At night, alone at home, not knowing whether my place was bugged, exhausted and frustrated, nothing I did distracted me from the constant low-level buzz of the cups against my pussy. I called Jimmie, hoping I could convince him to end the torment early.

"Show me," he said, his voice sympathetic.

I zoomed the camera wider to take in the room. I had my sweatpants and t-shirt on.

"Mmmn mmn," he shook his head, twirling his finger.

I sighed and stood up, peeling off my clothes.

"When you call, when I'm with you, CMNF, got it?"

I nodded and rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Jimmie. I get it. But, can you focus for a second? I'm like, I'm like not going to make it to Monday..."

"...probably Tuesday, at this rate..."

"...fuck! Tuesday. Monday. I can't make it to tomorrow! It's affecting my work!" I could hear the whine in my voice and I was starting to hate myself.

"Shhhh....shhh...do you need me to come over?"

I stopped and tried to parse what he'd said. Was that an offer to help...or something more threatening? "If it means you're going to take this thing off of me, yeah."

He just shook his head. "Annie. I'm surprised at your behavior; it's just been two days. You know what you need to say to make this stop. Just say the word." He looked...disappointed? Fuck if I could tell. "And calling me to beg...it shows a surprising lack of discipline. Does that mean you need to be disciplined?"

I felt my heartbeat increase, the scene from Tuesday still fresh. My hands drifted down to my buns. I saw him tracking, smiling.

"What are you, Annie?"

I exhaled, shaking my head, the orange fog clouding my self-confidence. "I'm your bitch," I said quietly. "I'm your pet...bitch." I sat back down, zooming the image to my face.

"Yes. You are my beautiful, wet bitch in heat, aren't you? Zoom back out, please. I want to see you." He had zoomed out as well, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

I watched has he stripped off, seeing his cock hardening, eventually stroking himself as he studied me. Knowing that my submission was turning him on was small consolation. At least he was smiling. I took that to mean he wasn't unhappy with me.

"You can still play with your breasts, pet. Have you been touching yourself there?"

I stared at him squeezing his cock and shook my head. "No," I said. "I've never gotten much satisfaction from that." He adjusted the image to zoom in on his penis, his erection taking up most of the screen. I licked my lips, watching his hand slowly stroking himself. They were listening to him! And maybe to me!!!

"Why don't you give it a try tonight. For me. I'd like to see my puppy play with her teats." He kept stroking, his breathing a little heavier. "If you're a good girl, I'll give you a treat tomorrow." He paused. "Teats for treats."