Redlight Nights: a faux excerpt
This short was inspired by Kadath's comic "Punished Puzzle," which begins with the titular Puzzle reading a steamy SM novel. I wondered just what was in that novel and wrote this short as my idea for what Puzzle was reading.
Lily shivered.
The room wasn't that cold, only about two degrees below what the shy young snow leopard liked to have her home at. But it was a very noticeable two degrees on her almost naked fur. She felt every eddy and current of air in the room as it brushed over her shoulders, flicked across her exposed nipples, traced over the tight lace corset she wore, and finally invaded between her legs and her puffy, damp labia.
As another zephyr caressed her lovingly, she let out a wordless moan. If she could have, she would have begged to be released from the chains that held her hands high overhead so she could not reach down and play with herself, and from the chains that bound her feet spread apart so she could not even squeeze her thighs together for a bit of extra friction, and from the chain that held her tail firmly to her back so even the delicate brush of tailfur over her clit was denied to her.
But she could not.
Even her mouth was bound. A single piece of leather wrapped around it, so tantalizingly simple that a part of her believed if she could wriggle her cheeks and lips in just the right way, she might be able to slip out of it. Her willpower had bled away just enough that she was starting to attempt it, when she heard it. When she heard him.
A door had slammed somewhere in the distance. Slow and steady hoofsteps approached. Lily couldn't see him. Not yet. But just the sound of his approach made her heart beat wildly, made her sex clench in need. What would he do with her? What would he do to her? Another moan escaped her throat.
Then he rounded a corner. A tall, dark-furred, white-maned Clydesdale who stood a full foot above her. He wore only a pair of leather pants that seemed tailor-fit to his exact physique. They were so tight she could see the definition in his leg muscles and count the piercings in his cock. (There were three, all bars.) Besides that, all he had was a pocketwatch, whose chain gently jingled as he walked.
He moved with the grace and artistry of a trained dancer. He would step forward, shift his weight onto his forward hoof, then pause, standing straight. Then he would take another step, another shift, another pause. Step, shift, pause. Step, shift, pause. Bringing him inexorably closer to her.
And each motion was accompanied by a sound. The step by the clack of a hoof on concrete, the shift by the jingle of his pocketwatch chain, the pause with silence so deep Lily could hear her own heartbeat.
Step, shift, pause. Clack, jingle, silence.
Over and over, again and again. He grew in her eyes and in her mind, her breath quickening, her sex so wet she dripped onto the floor.
He paused only once, to pick up a riding crop and add the slap of it against his palm to the sparse array of sounds that made up the snow leopard's whole world.
Then the Clydesdale stood before her, intense focus in his eyes as he sized her appearance up, seeming to be aware of every stray strand of fur, every untrimmed whisker, every chipped claw. With each flaw he noticed, his grip tightened on the handle of the crop. But it never swung.
Instead he reached out and gripped her chin between the index finger and thumb of one hand. That was all he needed to use. Even were she not bound, the raw authority he possessed would have been enough to keep her still.
He lifted her gaze to meet his own and leered down at her. "Now, pussy," he said to her, as he pulled on the chain at his hips and revealed it to be connected not to a pocketwatch, but to a pair of heavy nipple clamps, "we will see how well you squeal."