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Straight Laced

By: MrKitty



Note: This story contains submissive, but consensual, piercing and serious body modification. If this isn't your scene, please don't continue reading.

*

"Are you sure?" Tom asked.

Rachel stood a moment twirling her hair, and emphatically answered, "Yes!"

"I'm sorry—I'm not really sure I understood you! Could you please repeat it?" he requested, somewhat confused.

"I hereby give my body over to you for your decoration. You may permanently tattoo it, pierce it, or modify it as you see fit." She beamed as she stood before him, naked.

Tom was also naked, seated before her. He looked up at Rachel's face and saw that she was completely earnest.

"What brought this on?"

She immediately replied, "As your lover I wanted to give you the ultimate gift. I know you're a creative artist who adores the female form. I want you to use my body as a canvas. I'm looking forward to seeing what you will do with me."

He smiled, and held his hand out to her hip.

"No matter what? What if my artistic vision isn't the same as yours?"

"I won't back out. A gift is a gift."

A tear welled in his eye as he considered her beautiful gift.

He laid her down, and started stroking her body all over; she purred in response, her feminine instinct soaking up his touch and her body flexed to meet his hand. He felt her everyplace, lingering tantalizingly long before touching any of the softest places. She was squirming with agony by the time he finally reached down and placed himself at her opening. Slowly, he inserted himself as he bent down to begin simultaneously nursing at her breast. She arched her back and let out a long moan as he began thrusting.

The next day, they both got up late, languishing in bed. Tom finally got up first, and went directly to his studio after making a cup of instant coffee. Rachel made herself something to eat, and puttered around the house, reading a magazine, getting the paper, dusting the bookshelves. After about three hours, he came out of his studio with a handful of papers.

"Do you want to see what I've come up with?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise."

"Alright. Then we have to leave the house for an appointment in two hours. And don't wear a bra, but bring one in your purse."

She was dying from anticipation the rest of the time, but decided to busy herself with showering, dressing, and makeup. Before she knew it, it was time to go. They drove across town to an area she hadn't gone to often, and pulled into a tattoo and piercing parlor. He opened the door for her, and they walked in.

The place was very clean and had lots of artwork on the walls: various photos of clients or of especially interesting tattoos and piercings. Her lover obviously hadn't been there before as he introduced himself as the guy who called earlier that morning. She waited for him in a small chair by the door. After some formalities, they were ushered into a back room. This too was clean, with a doctor's table covered with paper. The tech Jimmy asked her to take off her top and lay back.

Rachel glanced at Tom, and he smiled back. She unbuttoned her blouse, letting her beautiful breasts fall free, handing her blouse to him. She had never been topless in front of a stranger before, but the tech acted as if this was nothing new, and it put her at ease. She lay back.

Tom held her hand as Jimmy donned gloves. He examined her breasts—they were smallish, between an A and B cup, but with big gumdrop-sized nipples. Her nipples and areola were a lovely shade of dark brown. Her nipples were oblong, taller than wide. The tech asked "horizontal?" and Tom answered for her, "Yes."

Jimmy wiped her right nipple with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and it immediately got hard. Then he took a implement looking like a pair of pliers that instead had two loops at the end and clasped her nipple with it. He said to Rachel, "I'm going to clamp you first, then pierce you. It will hurt, but it'll be over quickly."

She grimaced and said "Okay. I'm ready."

He fine-tuned and adjusted the clamp until he was satisfied that the area in-between the loops was symmetrically placed, and reached to his side table to grasp a large needle. "Okay, here goes," he said, and he plunged the needle through her nipple.

She yelped in pain, and crushed her lover's hand. A small tear rolled down her cheek. While Tom was comforting Rachel, the tech was quickly pushing a small gold ring through the newly created opening. She eventually realized it was all over: she saw that a golden hoop was now protruding from her nipple. The tech had rotated the ring through her nipple until the gap was in the far end. Her nipple softly throbbed.

Jimmy smiled in satisfaction over a good placement. "Okay, now the other side." He moved his stool and side table to Rachel's other side, and repeated the alcohol swab on the other nipple, which became instantly erect. Again, he carefully positioned the clamp, and finally asked, "Ready?"

She answered, "I guess so" in a wobbly voice. He didn't hesitate, and at that, the needle was once again stabbing through her other nipple. She cried out again, and just as quickly as before, looked down to see a gold ring donning her other nipple.

"Oh thank God it's done!" she cried with relief.

"Not just yet. Your boyfriend here has asked for our special service. We're going to weld the rings shut, so they're permanent."

"What?" she asked, incredulously.

Jimmy had already placed a very thick cloth heat shield around Rachel's left nipple, covering the remainder of her breast, but letting her nipple just poke through. He grabbed a roll of aluminum foil as he was explaining. "These are gold rings, which is the only metal we'll do this with. Gold is a poor conductor, which means it doesn't heat very easily, lucky for you. But it still does get hot. We're going to protect your breast from the torch with this shielding. The tinfoil will carry most of the heat away from the nipple." He was fashioning a cone around her nipple with the foil, making sure the delicate nipple was completely covered, and crushing it solidly into place around the ring. He took a pair of pliers and closed the gap in the ring shut. Then he took a small pair of scissors, and cut a very tiny square of gold foil from a small gold sheet. With a moist toothpick, he transferred the foil to the ring.

Rachel was breathing faster and faster as he was preparing, looking scared. Tom reached over and quietly whispered in her ear, "Breath slooowly. You're hyperventilating." He turned her head towards her and away from the activity around her breast, looking directly into her eyes. "It'll be okay—they've done this before."

She relaxed at her lover's voice, and then heard the click of a miniature torch start up. Before long, she could feel the heat in her nipple as a distinct burning sensation. As soon as she began to whimper, she realized Jimmy had stopped.

"It's okay—we're done." She looked down, and all she could see was a small aluminum foil mountain on top of her breast with a ring sticking out. Jimmy got a small Dremel and clicked it on. She winced at the whir, but he quickly polished the solder joint so that it was smooth and perfect. "There—this one is complete!" He removed the tinfoil and shield, and placed the shield around the other breast, pulling the nipple through the opening at the tip.

She grimaced and stared only at Tom, who stroked her hair and quietly whispered comforting words as preparations were being made on the other breast. She was trying to distract herself in him when she finally felt the burning begin on her other nipple. The burning feeling seemed more intense—she couldn't tell if it was because she anticipated it or if it was worse—and another tear fell down her cheek. Again just as it became unbearable, it was over. Again, the tech polished the other ring, and then removed the shielding.

Rachel sat up and admired the handiwork. Her nipples sported two perfectly round gold rings. The tech handed her two small cold packs. "You may want to put these in your bra to let the throbbing go down." He handed her a sheet for care instructions, and left them in the room alone. She put on her bra, tucking the cold packs in-between her bra and her tender nipples. Tom gave a kiss on her head as she put back on her blouse.

"I'm very proud of you," he said.

Over the next few days, Rachel was careful to pamper her tender nipples, religiously rotating her rings, cleaning them with antiseptic and swabbing them with antibacterial ointment several times each day. The piercings seemed to take well, and she caught herself admiring them in a mirror. They were perfect, permanent gold circles, right at the base of each nipple, and they adorned her breasts beautifully. She turned quickly back and forth, watching them glint and move, shaking along with her breasts. She loved the way they looked and made her feel: as if she were a sultan's prize. 

During their lovemaking, Tom left her breasts alone, with great difficulty keeping her ring tipped nipples out of his mouth and hands, letting them fully heal. He focused his attention to her thighs and tummy, relishing in making her wet with anticipation before he plunged his tongue or his cock into her.

After a couple months, her nips had healed enough to start playing with them. Rachel loved the new sensations she had from having Tom tug at her nipples, pulling her rings to stretch or lift her breasts. She found herself absentmindedly playing with the rings in the shower, when she was lying in bed, when she was getting dressed. He adored the way they decorated her breasts, and he told her so often. He loved to suck at her breasts and play with the ring with his tongue, pulling her nipple while she was in his mouth. They both loved the new dimension this had added to their sex.

One morning after fucking each other senseless, they lay side-by-side, sweating and panting. Tom reached over, possessively cupping Rachel's left breast, fondling her nipple ring.

"I have a new adornment planned for you," he whispered.

She turned on her side, curling around him with her head on his chest. "Oh?"

"Do you want to know what it is?"

"No. Surprise me."

"Okay. When do you want to get started?"

"Anytime you want," she said. Her pussy tingled in anticipation of a new pleasure.

He got up and led her by the hand to the shower. They both stepped in, and he started leisurely soaping her up and sponging her down, washing her hair, her back, her breasts and stomach, then crouching down to wash her legs, her pussy, her ass. He turned off the shower, took a can of shaving cream from the lip of the tub, frothed up a ball of cream in his hand, and frosted it evenly across her pussy. He had done this before for her, and so she relaxed, naturally raising her leg and spreading it, resting her foot on the edge of the tub to give him full access. Tom took a razor, and slowly and methodically shaved off her pussy fur, going over each section carefully to make sure she was clean. He would carefully grasp each lip, shaving it, then splashing her with a little water to observe where he needed to stroke again. After he was finished, he turned the shower back on, making sure she was completely rinsed off.

He then quickly soaped and rinsed himself, and turned off the shower. Rachel had her eyes closed, enjoying the sensuous feeling as he used a soft plush towel, drying her off completely. He took special care to dry off her newly bald pussy, and gave it a big wet, lingering kiss. He gave her pussy a second longer kiss, full and wet, slowly rubbing his mouth side-to-side against her labia, gently sucking her into his mouth and then releasing her. He stood up and briefly tousled his own hair with a new towel, wrapping it around his own waist while he shaved. They individually dressed, and they stepped outside, entering the car. He drove them to their new destination.

A new piercing studio, different from the first, greeted her when the car pulled up to a parking space. Again, Tom led them inside and spoke to the owner Brandon, who led them into a back private room. Her lover turned to her and asked her to take off her skirt and panties. Rachel did so, although she turned a little pink and started unzipping her skirt slightly more reluctantly with the other man in the room. But she did as she was asked, and placed her clothes at the end of the table. She lay down on the table with her legs closed.

Brandon took out a folder with a large number of transparencies in it. He started pulling them out and set them on a table, just outside of her view. Tom and the Piercer were pouring over them, pointing and selecting. She heard Tom say "No, not like this. Yes this one, but more eyelets. This one right here." Brandon turned to her and asked her "Can you spread your legs, honey?" The man spread her lips fully apart, then letting them relax back to a closed position, smoothing her outer lips over until they were perfectly symmetrical, hiding her inner lips and her clit.

The two men looked once more over the selected transparency. Her lover nodded his head, and the other man took a pair of scissors to cut the selected design out from the sheet. He took the cut piece of clear plastic, and placed it centered over her slit. She could now see what it had printed on it: two columns of silver circles, with a small hole punched through the center of each one. There were six rows and a pair of circles in each row, evenly centered on either side of her slit, and fully extending from top to bottom of her outer lip: twelve circles in total. She looked at her lover, a question in her eyes.

"They're eyelets. I want to be able to lace up your pussy," he answered her unspoken question.

"You mean, like a shoe?"

"Yes. Or like a corset."

Rachel opened her mouth silently, and her hand instinctively covered her privates, inadvertently knocking the clear template to the floor. Brandon reached down and picked it up, keeping it in his hand.

Tom looked at Rachel with eyes compassionate, yet passionate. "You wanted it a surprise, remember? You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"It's just—well, I wasn't expecting anything like that. Is it permanent? What am I saying, of course it is."

"Yes, it is. But if you don't want to, you won't disappoint me."

She reached her open hand out to Brandon, who handed her the template. She looked over the piece of clear film in her hand, with its twelve evenly spaced circles around twelve evenly spaced holes. She looked through the holes, realizing that if she went ahead with it, those same holes would soon be in her. She turned it over in over in her hand and her mind, amazed that such a small piece of plastic could hold her fate. After a minute, she had finally decided.

Rachel spread her legs wide, and placed the plastic template back over her slit, looking at her lover as she did so. Tom looked at her with raised eyebrows, to which she replied, "I really want it. Please go ahead."

Brandon asked her, "Do you want to do them all at once, or two at a time?"

She answered immediately, "I want to get it over with—let's do all at once."

He walked to a sink in the corner of the room, pulled a paper Dixie cup and filled it from the faucet. He then opened a cabinet, took out a small bottle, and shook out a single pill. He handed her the cup and a small pill. "If that's the case, you'll probably want this. It's Valium, and it'll dull the pain." She took the pill and swallowed it, chasing it with the water.

Brandon put on a pair of latex gloves, and then cleaned her with an antiseptic wipe. Once she was thoroughly clean, he again centered the transparency over her labia. He then taped the clear film down to her bald pussy with several small pieces of electrical tape. As he was doing this, he explained, "I'm going to line things up perfectly and tattoo small crosses for the center of each hole so we'll have perfect alignment once I remove the template." 

He finished taping the template in place, and reached to the table and grabbed something, holding it out to her. She opened her hand and took it: two small golden tubes, each with a wide rolled flange on one end. He explained, "Those are the two halves of each eyelet. Two fit together: one on the inside of your lip, one on the outside. Notice how there are ribs only on the outside of one of the tunnels, and only on the inside of the other? The two tubes slide inside each other. The ribs are slanted one-way like little ramps. Once I press the two halves together with a pair of pliers, the ribs will ensure they don't come apart."

He then picked up a tattoo machine from the table and turned it on. It sounded like a dentist's drill. He moved in close, and started drawing little plus signs on her pussy in the center of each eyelet of the template. She felt it stinging her pussy like a bee, but it didn't hurt as bad as the nipple piercing had. He was quick—after just a few seconds, and he was done.

"Okay. Has the Valium kicked in yet?"

"Maybe just a little."

"Let's wait."

He removed the tape and the plastic guard, and wiped her vulva clean from ink and a couple tiny droplets of blood from the tattoo needle. Her pussy had a dozen little blue crosses, perfectly spaced from top to bottom on both sides of her outer lips.

The three of them made small talk, about Brandon's business and some of the more interesting clientele and designs. After fifteen or so minutes went by, Brandon asked Rachel again how she was feeling.

"Pretty good, actually. A little loopy, maybe. Mostly just relaxed."

"Good—then it's time to start."

He pulled out another device from his side table with a star-shaped wheel. She didn't recognize it. "What's that?" she asked.

"It's a leather punch. We use it for some of the bigger holes, like you have. We keep it very sharp, so it'll be very quick." He rotated the punch around to select the 3/16th inch size he needed.

She was feeling quite relaxed, and despite the look of the tool, it didn't bother her at all. "Okay," she said lazily.

The man scooted up to her spread legs, with the leather punch in one hand, grasping her labia in the other. He stretched her lip far away from her body, and placed the steel plate of the punch on the inside of the lip, being very careful to line up the hole in the center of the punch.

"Ready?" he asked.

Tom held Rachel's hand, and she quietly replied, "Yes."

Brandon double-checked his placement one final time, then with one quick motion, he squeezed the punch hard. The circular bit of the tool punched a clean hole through her labia, and she let go a loud yelp. The Valium did dull the pain, but she still definitely felt it. Brandon worked quickly, dusting the hole with alum powder to staunch the bleeding which was just beginning to ooze out. The alum powder stung her, waking her senses. 

"Oh my God, that hurt!"

He picked up the one half of the golden eyelet. He slid it into the hole on the inside. The hole in her lip was intentionally slightly smaller than the tube, and he had to strongly push it through. It protruded past her skin by an eighth of an inch or so. He withdrew it, and used a small cut-off wheel to remove the extra piece of metal at the tip so the tube would be the exact thickness of her labia. He quickly burnished that off to smooth the cut edge, placed it back in her labia's hole, and put the other eyelet on the outside of her lip. With a special pair of padded pliers, he grasped the two ends and pushed the two halves together. The two golden tubes locked into place around her lip with a ratcheting sound. He took a small cloth soaked in alcohol and swabbed off the blood.

He was very quick—the whole process had taken less than a minute. She looked down at her pussy, and saw the one gleaming golden eyelet in her labia. She reached down and held her lip, turning it, and was able to see through the perforation. It was a beautiful job, and she knew she would be happy with her new ornamentation when it was finished. But she also saw the eleven other little crosses on her pussy, and was nervous. She looked at her lover. "Please tell me a story to keep my mind off of it."


Straight Laced Ch. 02



Note: This story contains serious body modification. If this isn't your scene, please don't continue reading. The story picks up directly from Part I.

Tom had laced Rachel tonight for the first time since her pussy had gotten its eyelets. Tom had, with her permission, and in fact her request, installed two rows of eyelets in her pussy. She had six holes in each outer lip, perfectly symmetrical, capped with golden eyelets. The two halves of each eyelet, on the inside and outside of her labia, were permanently affixed—they had pressure ridges that were snapped together by the man who pierced her. The eyelets had a wide rim, polished and rounded for comfort. They matched her golden nipple rings, welded and polished shut, which he had decorated her with months before. Her pussy was now like a pink precious little shoe, finally rewarded with its dream of being laced. But up until tonight, lacing her was off-limits while the piercings had healed.

Rachel was nude, turning to and fro in front of a full-length mirror admiring the pink lace Tom had threaded through her pussy lips, tied with a little bow on top. Her pussy looked beautiful and feminine, the golden hollow rivets a refinement to her sexuality. Tom had tied the laces tight, pressing her lips together, and hiding her now engorged clit deep within her slit, behind the crossed pink ribbons. She didn't want to disturb her new decoration, but after months of build-up she was desperate for relief.

Rachel had been shopping for shoelaces in the months prior in anticipation of this event. Letting Tom pick from her selections—all different colors and finishes of shoe laces—she had sprinkled out all her many purchases over the bedspread. Now, they were just in the way for the rutting behavior that Rachel craved.

"I don't want to untie myself. Could you take me from behind?" Rachel asked, leaning onto the bed, using her arm to clear a path, flinging away the dozens of laces in their little paper wrappers and plastic bands to clear room for her prone body.

"Of course," he said eagerly. They had first started experimenting with anal sex while Rachel's pussy was healing. Now it had become a natural part of their sex play, a welcome activity, even by her. 

She raised her ass in the air, waiting for his penetration. He reached into the nightstand, procuring a bottle of lubricant, and made sure that his cock and her ass were both thoroughly lubed. He placed himself behind her, and using his finger, worked it into her rear, making sure she was wet inside. Then he guided his cock to her ass, pressing himself against her beautiful asshole for several moments to let her adjust before slowly pushing inside.

She moaned with desire as she felt his head push pass her sphincter. After their month or two of practice she was now used to the sensations, and she relaxed herself to accommodate him, letting him fill her and push in to full depth. Once he had entered her all the way, he could feel his balls brush up against the bottom of her cunt, and to his surprise he could feel her laces. She too could feel him bumping against her sutured lips, the taut laces magnifying his motion. He started slowly stroking in and out of her ass, building both of their excitement, taking his time gently assaulting his lover's ass. Rachel started playing with her nipple rings as she was being sodomized, tugging them and stretching her nipples for extra stimulation.

Rachel had never thought she could be a woman that would enjoy anal sex. But in surrendering her body to her lover for decoration, she had also uncovered the pure bliss in surrendering herself completely to him in that way. She felt him filling her ass, each stroke gradually gaining speed. The tension on her tightly laced labia was transmitting the end of each stroke to her caged clit, while his cock completely filled her ass. He went slowly and surely, at each stage waiting for her body to be ready for him, adjusting his speed and position to ensure her comfort and pleasure.

He reached underneath her with one hand and cupped her vulva, using his fingers to strum the tight laces. The confident feeling of his hand plucking at her strings all the while he was plumbing the depths of her rear drove her crazy, and Rachel cried out "Oh God yes, fuck me!"

He sped up marginally, still pulling at her laces. When he tugged a lace anywhere, the tight string interwoven throughout her whole pussy made her entire vulva feel like a musical instrument, strung for pleasure.

Tom's patient ministrations finally had their effect, as Rachel cried out, her orgasm finally flowing over her. She grasped the sheets as she moaned on each wave, relishing the feeling of her anus rhythmically contracting around the cock buried deep in her. Hearing Rachel come and feeling her ass clutching at him brought Tom over the edge, and he gripped Rachel's hips, pulling her to him as deeply as he could while he pumped her full of his semen.

He held her tight as he finished, and now exhausted he directed both of their bodies to fall on the bed, still connected. They lay there, still intimately joined, panting in recovery. Tom stroked Rachel's back and pet her hair, while his erection began to subside. After a while, we was finally soft, and he pulled his penis from her, her anus staying open while his come dripped out.

Tom jumped up and got some tissues from the nightstand, wiping her carefully clean before taking care of himself. Rachel passively lay there, satisfied, letting Tom clean her off. When he was done, she needed a shower. Not wanting to get her laces wet, she reached between her legs, and undid the bow.

With the sex leaving her pussy wet, throbbing and unfilled, the touch of undoing the laces only served to arouse her further. She worked slowly, pulling each lace free from its eyelet, letting the string drag against her swollen labia. She was at the bottom two holes eventually, when she pulled the lace completely through and out. It was tugging at her labia the entire journey, and when she had pulled the lace free of her pussy, she felt a little incomplete.

Rachel had sprung her unveiling on him immediately when he had gotten home from work, and now Tom had gone downstairs to start dinner. She spent her time gathering up the laces scattered over the bedspread and putting them in a shoebox she now kept under the bed. She walked into the shower, and turned it on. While she waited for the water to warm, she sat on the potty and relieved herself. She had lived with the eyelets now for four months, and the nipple rings slightly longer. Like a wedding ring, they felt just like another part of her.

She wiped herself, flushed, and stepped in the shower. She poured a healthy amount of vanilla bodywash into a sponge, and languorously lathered herself all over, letting the suds stay on her body until a turn of her body revealed the jet of water ready to blast them off. She daydreamed with the water playing over her. Her erotic shoelace shopping trips had given her mind plenty of fertile ground to cover. Now that she had tasted the lacing for the first time, she knew she would love it. She turned up the heat, and closing her eyes, put her finger down to her clit, masturbating herself while the steamy water ran down her body in rivulets.

The next day, Tom left for work early and was gone by the time Rachel woke. After she had wiped the sleep from her eyes, she crawled out of the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Rachel slept in the nude. She decided to get dressed first, so went under the bed and fetched her shoebox. She had let Tom lace her last night, so it was her turn today. She picked through the choices, finding a nice black round dress lace. She took out one lace from the pair, placing the other back in the box, and sliding it back under the bed. She fondled the black lace for a moment, then stretched it to its full length. She spread her legs and arched her back so that she could give herself the best access to her pussy. She had discovered that she still couldn't see the bottom holes, so she sat on the floor in front of the bedroom's full-length mirror, spreading her legs wide.

With this view, she could see herself fully. She admired the work, the golden eyelets running up each side of her pussy, making her look like a living lace-up shoe. She threaded the hard plastic tip of the lace through one of her labia at the bottom, and passed it to the other matching hole on the other lip. She pulled the lace through to the halfway point, holding the string far from her body to measure that the two tips were equal. The act of pulling the string taut away from her tugged her lips. Everything about it was still so erotic, that she couldn't help noticing every little motion of the laces. She softly bit her lip in a pose of feminine eros.

She then worked at suturing herself up, threading the laces from one side to the other, then crossing with the opposite side. When she reached the top, she found it difficult to tie the bow upside down, so it took her several tries, pantomiming the bow tying in the mirror then trying to move her hands to the position at her crotch to repeat it. She finally got it right, and looked at her handiwork.

Her pussy was framed by a series of crisscrossing black X's, culminating with a floppy bow on top. She stood up and admired herself, turning to see it from all angles. The golden metal eyelets fixed into her skin were a beautiful contrast to the dark cloth laces. Happy with her first lacing, she lay back on the bed. She was aroused by the act of installing the lace, and she wanted to rub one out.

She slid her finger under the bow and between the laces to reach her clit. She had laced herself more loosely than Tom did last night so there was room for her finger to slightly spread the laces apart. Even this act caused the laces to adjust themselves, pulling and tugging everywhere along her pussy.

She found her quarry, and started slowly rubbing her finger side-to-side against her clit. She could feel the wetness building inside her, and she continued her attack, more furiously now. It didn't take her long to finish herself, and as she did so, she pressed her finger hard against her clit, smashing it within its cage while she came.

Her immediate need satisfied, she started getting dressed. She had stopped regularly wearing panties after the golden tunnels were inserted because of the discomfort when they were raw, angry, and fresh. Now she almost always went commando, combined with a skirt or dress. No longer used to wearing underwear, she thought of the lace itself as her panty, and picked her bra to match her lace. After some quick sorting of clothing, she was dressed and outfitted for the day. Another shopping trip was in order.

Over the coming weeks, Rachel yet further expanded her collection of laces. The eroticism involved in lacing herself each morning had given her a new appreciation for the style of lace. She also started buying lots of shoes with laces, not confining herself to standard dress shoes or sneakers, but progressing to all sorts of laced high boots, including some obviously slutty thigh-high black latex models she got from Fredrick's of Hollywood.

Her lacing style had started out pretty plain vanilla, using the same pattern that every schoolchild learns by first grade. But she graduated, her repertoire of lacing patterns ever growing, trying fancy lacing combinations she found that urban kids had posted on the internet. She found a bunch of functional lacing patterns that different military organizations promoted, designed for keeping the tongue fixed while letting the sides of the boot flex, or purely ornamental patterns like those used by ceremonial guards. The fashion industry had some tips too, like lacings that would hide some of the inner crossing behind. She usually preferred the simplicity of the original, but she did appreciate some of the other designs for their unique benefits. Some of the lacing patterns pulled her in different ways, or held her lips rigid and tightly together, or placed more of the lace on the inside where they could stimulate her clit as she walked. Some of her fancy lacing patterns required using two laces, which gave her more color matching options. She loved experimenting with new styles, and became quite proficient with different patterns. She got excited when she saw a new pattern, automatically translating the shoe parts in the instructions to her female equivalent: "tongue" to "clit" and "inside crossover" to "clit cage". She got to know almost instinctively the advantage and the feel of any particular lacing.

Rachel set the tone of her day with how she laced her pussy. If it was the weekend and Tom wanted to take a hike, Rachel would select the thickest leather lace she had. It was almost too thick for the small eyelets, but she could force it through the holes if she persevered. She pulled those laces very tight, just like she would her hiking boots, binding her pussy closed with the thick leather laces. There was something about the leather that was primal, and she responded with a pressure that rippled her labia, working all of the slack out of her laces with two passes from the bottom to the top. She wanted each stride of her legs on the trail to pull her entire pussy along for the ride.

If she was just going shopping with friends, she'd use a running shoe lace, loosely tied, almost carelessly like she was throwing on a pair of sneakers before dashing out of the house. She could have left the laces out, but she never left the house without lacing herself. Even if in a rush, she would quickly thread a lace through, topping it off with a sloppy bow. She didn't dream of leaving herself unlaced—it would be like leaving the house naked or without makeup. By now she had completely equated wearing her laces to wearing panties. The colored thread that stitched her pussy shut each morning was as important a choice to her as any other part of her wardrobe. She hadn't worn her panties for months, and she decided to get rid of them.

Rachel's fetish also started to drift towards corsets. She had already regularly visited Victoria's Secret and other more boutique lingerie shops, buying almost anything corset-style with laces. In the downtown of one of the local college towns she had found a medieval fantasy shop that had a selection of real corsets, and she practically cleaned them out. For those she would need Tom's help.

When she brought home her corset collection, Rachel was tentative, working up the courage to ask Tom at just the right time. But he loved the idea, and helped her try one on that night. She had selected a nice lavender one, and she had already changed her lace to a pretty matching purple in anticipation. She handed the corset to Tom for his inspection.

It was beautiful—a curvy formed rectangle of heavy lavender fabric, very feminine with little trimming of white lace. Inside the garment there were stiff vertical bars called boning, these days made of plastic. Both outer edges of the corset had rows of silver eyelets running up each side about every half inch; Tom thought it looked like Rachel's pussy, and Tom started getting hard. She handed him a very long white lace, and explained what she wanted. She donned the corset, adjusting it so it rode just above her hips and half-way across her breasts, turning to face away from Tom.

Tom started lacing her from the top, pulling the laces tight as she asked. There was a good deal of Rachel's back visible between the two edges of the garment as they were brought together. The corset was designed to slim, being deliberately much narrower than her body, leaving plenty of extra room to squeeze its female owner. There were a huge number of eyelets to lace, so it took a while for Tom to get it laced all the way down to the bottom. It wasn't tight enough for her—she felt it, but she wanted the corset to do its real job.

"Please go back to the top and snug them as tight as you can," Rachel asked, sucking in her breath. Tom started over, pulling the strings as hard as he could, using his hand against Rachel's back to pull the strings devilishly tight while he resnugged all the laces. Rachel could feel her breath being squeezed out of her, as she had hoped. Tom finally got to the bottom to tie a big open bow as Rachel was just getting used to her new confinement. She strode over to the mirror. Her hourglass figure was even more accented, with her waist narrowed and her breasts pushed up. "I'm taking delicate shallow little breaths, very befitting for a lady," Rachel thought. She loved this body cage, and she could feel the wetness inside her starting to drip out onto her labia.

That first night when she had been laced, she had been too cautious to mess up her pretty new decoration, and so she had chosen to take it anally. Since then, she had lost her fear of getting her laces dirty—now she washed her string "panties" in the laundry in a mesh bag so they wouldn't get all tangled up. She had also discovered some workarounds to having sex while still being laced. She found that she could lace herself loosely which would allow Tom to slide inside, his cock constantly sliding against her strings as he fucked her. And she had found some lacing patterns that left her vagina free, with one bar barely below her opening and the other crossing laces just above it, just right for strumming. She had opted for the latter tonight, knowing that putting on the corset would definitely end up in her getting a good hard fuck.

Rachel lay back on the bed on her back, spreading her legs nice and wide for Tom's benefit. He saw the pretty purple laces woven through her pussy and noticed that the pattern left an open space near her vagina. He knew exactly what her signal meant, and didn't waste any time stripping and climbing up on the bed with her. He brought his hard member close to her, rubbing it against her opening where she wasn't stitched shut, feeling her wetness. He pressed into her, thankful that she was sopping. She hadn't criss-crossed the laces over her vagina, but the lacing throughout the rest of her pussy still made her very tight, pressing each labia tightly against its mate. Whenever he entered her while still laced, the tightness of her lips against his pole made her seem like a virgin, and tonight was no exception. Her cunt enclosed around him as he entered her. He pressed forward as slowly as possible, gradually retreating back to pull forward her moisture and advancing again, a couple millimeters with each slow stroke.

He was poised above her, and Rachel had been stroking his chest while he penetrated her, pinching his nipples, running her hands down his back and pulling his ass towards her. Finally he was in to his full depth, and Rachel lifted and closed her legs over his butt pulling him to her to feel him deep within her, filling her. Once she was satisfied with the feeling of fullness his cock gave her, she let her ankles relax so he could continue pumping. Her cunt was tightly puckered around his cock, providing maximum friction as he went in and out, her engorged and lace-bound lips extending the tunnel of her vaginal canal. He took his time with his strokes, teasing her with his lack of urgency, in complete control of himself despite bursting with desire to fuck her fast and senseless. His control let her build slowly, increasing her pleasure.

The corset had molded her body into the narrow-waisted Victorian ideal, pushing her breasts up and making them look bigger. He fell to his elbows so he could use his hands, and he played with the portion of her breasts jutting over the corset, tugging at her nipple rings, and running his hands across the stiff material. Her breaths were shallow and ragged, partly enforced by the tightly constricting garment and partly because she had become desperately animalistic, panting like a dog in heat.




Straight Laced Ch. 02



Finally, Rachel climaxed, using her legs wrapping him to pull him deeply while she cried out, and wrapped her arms around Tom's neck. She looked at him as she came, eyes liquid with pleasure. Her eyes were open and fixed on him the whole time, almost looking afraid that she wouldn't be able to withstand the onslaught of her orgasm. She shook with pleasure, the waves of the orgasm pulsing through her tightly bound pussy and dancing within her widely opened eyes.

He loved it when she bared her soul to him like this, with her eyes-open orgasm. Watching her come always pushed him closer. It was his goal, the single-minded focus of his male obsession: to make her come. Once she did, all controls in place for his own orgasm were instantly lifted. Especially when she let him look into her eyes when she came, letting him see her afraid and vulnerable, her mind lost in the depths of climax, sharing her overflowing love for him.

Rachel's dilated pupils beckoned him to join her, and Tom couldn't hold back any more. Rachel's orgasm lasted a long time, and it was just starting to peter out as Tom came. He extended the same openness to her, keeping his eyes open and focused on her instead of hiding his inner being at the moment it was most raw.

She saw his eyes too were almost afraid with pleasure as he came, and felt him jerking inside her, filling her with his love. She pulled his head down for an open mouth kiss, cutting off his gasps for air with her wide wet mouth. She drove her tongue into his mouth, still feeling him pumping her full of his semen and trying to keep her eyes open. She couldn't focus on him from this close, but she saw the blurry image of him filling her vision just like he was filling her pussy.

They lay in their embrace for a long while afterwards, tightly wrapped around each other. Rachel's waist was bound in her corset, her pussy in its laces, and her entire body in Tom's arms. Corseting wouldn't become an every-day occurrence, but it was now part of their sex repertoire, to be broken out for special occasions when she really needed it.

Tom announced to Rachel that he had booked a new show in Chicago in a week. Rachel wouldn't be able to go with him for the several days he'd be gone, but it was a prominent gallery, and he couldn't miss the opportunity. Rachel would miss him terribly, since they were rarely apart. Their renewed sex life had strengthened the bond between them—people often mistook them as newlyweds, even though they'd been together twelve years now. They always held hands, or walked with their arms around each other. He opened doors for her and pulled out her chair when she sat; respectful as a first date, yet clearly quite intimate. Their closeness was palpable to others, even when they weren't giving each other little PDA's.

Rachel knew it was all because of her gift. She never had known that it would lead to this. Her nipple's rings and her pussy's eyelets had reawakened her lusty self, her sexually adventurous self. She and Tom had sex almost every night, sometimes twice a day. She couldn't get enough. The permanent installations were always rubbing at her, her laces tautly vibrating her pussy when she went about her daily business, her nipple rings tugged on by her bra. By the time evening had come, she couldn't take it any more, and she would throw herself on Tom, begging to be fucked. 

Tom's level of gratitude to Rachel for letting him decorate her gave him a new respect for her. He admired her, and found her so much more alluring and beautiful. Not more beautiful because of her metal jewelry, but because together they had let the lusty Rachel out of her cage. She was now freer than ever ironically because she stitched her pussy up tightly each morning. She loved her laces, and now couldn't think of her body without them.

Rachel didn't want to be without Tom, but knew he had to go. In response, she hatched the idea of having her pussy's bondage to be permanent while Tom was away. It would deliciously torture her, and she became preoccupied with the idea, turning it over in her mind for the next full week. She decided it was so sinful she couldn't resist, and even though it was a little extreme, she wanted to take the leap. She hinted as much to him the on next Sunday morning; he was due to fly out to Chicago at 9:00 that night.

"Hey Tom?"

"Yes babe?"

"While you're away at your Chicago show, how do you know I'm not going to stray?" She had a flirty look in her eye, and a feminine tilt to her head.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You know, play around?" Rachel continued.

"You mean cheat?" Tom asked doubtfully.

"Hadn't you better be certain?" she added coyly, trying to bring him around to her idea without telling him what to do.

He was very matter of fact with a dismissive reply. "Very funny hon. Of course I don't think that'll be necessary!" She was disappointed that he didn't get her hint at all. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I've got to run some pre-flight errands for the show—I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Okay," she replied sorrowfully.

If he wasn't going to pick up on the hint, she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She went upstairs, and found the thinnest lace she owned—a white formal shoe lace. After the daily practice with her various lacings, she was now blindingly fast, and she stitched herself up starting at the top this time, letting the loose laces dangle below at the bottom of her pussy. She went back over the lacing, making sure each crossing was securely taking up all the slack. She was now tightly laced, her outer labia pressed together, completely covering her clit and inner labia. She took some scissors and cut the ends of the laces, leaving a small portion dangling, enough to make a small loop at each end. Then just as quickly, she removed the little white lace, setting it free from her pussy and placing it on the bed. She picked through her shoebox, and selected a pretty red lace with gold threads to lace herself up for real, before getting dressed to head out.

She went to the hardware store—a local store known for its variety and helpful staff. She found the department that had ropes and cables on big spools where you could cut off exactly how much you needed. A man walked up to her.

"Can I help you Miss?"

"Yes." She pulled the cut white lace from her purse and handed it to the man. "I need a piece of the thinnest steel cable you've got, cut exactly this long. And I need two loops put on the ends." She smiled to herself, knowing that her scent was probably still on the lace.

He took the lace from her hand and looked it over. "This is pretty short—what are you using it for?"

"I've got a small jewelry box I want to keep my kids out of."

"Okay, sure." He looked among the selections, finally settling on a fine steel mesh cable with a thin plastic coating. "How about this? It's pretty flexible—is that okay?"

"Yes, the more flexible the better." She took the end from the reel that he indicated and bent it, trying to determine the minimal curve. It wasn't anywhere near as flexible as the cloth laces she was used to, but she was pretty sure it could bend enough to be threaded.

Rachel asked the man, "How do you put a loop on the end?"

"There are these small steel clamps here," as he picked one up. "You bend the cable around to itself, then crush one of these clamps into the cable. There are little points inside the clamp that penetrate into the cable, making it almost impossible to pull off. I can do that for you."

"Perfect!"

"Okay, just give me a minute then," the man said, measuring off the thin cable from the reel against her shoelace, cutting it with a pair of tin snips. He used a pair of pliers to bend a small loop in each end, clamping the loop solidly shut with the pliers. With a machine on his belt, he printed a small white tag for the cost of the cable and clamps, and wrapped it around the cable, handing it to her.

"Here you are."

She tugged at the loops fabricated in the ends of the cable. They were very strong—no chance of pulling them out. "Thank you—this will do nicely! Next, I need the smallest hollow tubing you have, maybe three inches?"

He looked at the wheels of tubing next to the cables, ropes, and chains. The smallest one was a clear flexible plastic about an eighth-inch diameter. He pulled out a small section, about six inches, and cut it off.

"Here you go," he said. "I'm not going to charge you for a piece this small—we normally only charge for foot long pieces or more."

"Thanks! I'm almost done. Can you tell me where padlocks are?"

"Sure—one aisle over," the man said, pointing.

She walked over to the aisle indicated, and found the locks. She found the smallest possible lock, about a half-inch wide with a small key. The key for the small lock was clearly non-unique—just a little stamped bit of metal with a plus at the end. The locks with individually cut keys were practically an inch wide. She toyed with the idea of having an inch-wide metal lock dangling between her legs, weighing both locks in opposite hands, trying to decide. With the smaller lock she knew if she got desperate she could always come back to the hardware store and buy another to use its identical key to free herself. Her desire for a true imprisonment over a symbolic one won out, and she put the smaller lock back on the shelf, dropping the larger lock in her shopping basket.

She strode up to the counter with her selections, paying right away and rushing out the door. Rachel was quite aroused from her shopping trip. She drove home quickly to beat Tom home from his errands, making sure she had enough time to beat herself off first. She got home and rushed to the bedroom, throwing her purse and purchases aside. 

She was quite used to wearing her laces during the day. No matter how tightly she pulled the laces, she knew she could take them off at night, or could loosen them several times during the day to pee. She always slept nude without any stitching, the eyelets in her labia free from constraint, spreading herself wide to let her pussy breathe. This would be different. She would not get any relief from the compression until Tom got home. She wanted to make the most of the last little bit of freedom her pussy would enjoy. 

Rachel pulled up her skirt with nothing underneath but her beautiful red and gold laced pussy, and she could feel she was already starting to lubricate. She undid the bow, and then unceremoniously removed the lacing as quickly as she could. Once the ribbon had been tossed aside, Rachel started pulling her lips apart, stretching them from her body as far as her skin's elasticity would allow. With one hand on each lip, she grasped the lips' edges with their embedded metal, pulling as much of the flesh into her palm as she could, then spreading herself obscenely. She then did the same with her inner lips. Not having the hand-holds of the eyelets, she pinched her delicate inner labia tight between her fingertips, and spread herself. She pulled her inner lips away from her body, exercising as much of her pussy's temporary freedom as she could, stretching and spreading her soon-to-be compressed cunt.

She used her thumb and middle finger to spread herself wide, separating her labia as far as she could until her engorged clit was just a little bump on the wide open pink plain. She plunged the middle finger of her other hand into her wet hole, at the same time rubbing her little stretched clit with her forefinger. Her middle finger was slick with juice, and she fucked herself furiously, back arched to get her hand deep enough, all the while sliding her other finger side-to-side over her engorged clit.

Her need had been dire, and she quickly came, grunting under her breath, clutching her finger deep in her spasming cunt, crushing her mound with the palm of her other hand. She relaxed, letting the pleasure sweep over her. As she was drifting off, she heard the front door open. She quickly pulled her finger out of herself, stood and smoothed her skirt, dove for the red lace on the floor, quickly stuffing it in the shoebox under the bed. She picked up her little brown bag and headed out to meet her man.

"Hi babe," Tom said.

"Hi sweetie, did you get everything done?" Rachel asked innocently.

"Almost—part of the hardware will have to get shipped directly to Chicago while I'm there doing the installation, but everything else was ready."

"That's too bad," Rachel said with empathy. She walked close up to him, and gave him a big wet kiss, still holding the bag. He received the kiss with eager abandon, and she pulled herself away. She held her sticky finger under his nose, leaving it there long enough until the look in his eyes was unmistakable recognition.

"Jesus Christ! Do you need me on my knees eating your pussy?" Tom exclaimed.

"Remember when we talked this morning about my straying?"

"Did you cheat on me while I was gone?" he asked, incredulously.

"No, not exactly." She handed him the small brown paper bag.

He accepted it with a questioning look, and undid the fold at the top, peering in. He reached in, taking the contents.

"A small cable, a lock, and a piece of piping?"

"Oh, the tubing is mine," Rachel said quickly, snatching the clear tube from his hand. "But the others are yours. That's to make sure I'm a good girl while you're gone."

After a confused pause, Tom broke out in a big smile. "Oh, God honey. I'm sorry for being so thick. I really didn't get the hint." He added with mock sternness, "Of course, I'm going to have to lock your pussy up while I'm gone to make sure you're not a terrible slut!" He stuffed the items back into the paper bag.

Rachel grinned. "Whatever you say, sir," she flirted, a giggle in her eyes.

He led her back to the bedroom by the hand, dumping the bag by the bedroom door. He grasped her, turned her around and threw her backwards onto the bed. He lifted her skirt, and lowered his head down to her pussy, rubbing his nose in it.

"You're quite wet!" he said with surprise.

"You came home right after I finished beating it," she admitted with a guilty smile.

Tom took a long wide-tongued lap at her pussy, freshening the scent that she had tantalizingly rubbed under his nose. Her legs squirmed with delight, her pussy still plump from her earlier masturbating. He tucked in, kissing and licking her cunt up and down its length. He took her golden eyelets into his mouth, tugging on them. He teased her mercilessly like this for a bit, moving his mouth from place to place over her tender little pussy. Once he had had his fill of fluttering about, he concentrated on her clit, drawing her clit and inner lips fully into his mouth, sucking them strongly, then releasing the pressure a little, over and over again.

He moved his hand up to her crotch and put the tips of two fingers inside her. She involuntarily bucked her hips forward to meet his hand, forcing his fingers in even further. He continued to suck her clit, measured and slow, but deeply into his mouth while stroking her G-spot with his fingers. He could feel her tensing up. Not wanting to tease her any further, he pumped his fingers slightly faster and sucked slightly harder, pulling her over the edge.

She grabbed his hair, shoving his head into her mound as she came. He was smothered by her fragrant cunt and he loved it, rubbing his face side to side while keeping her clit drawn deeply into his mouth. He could feel her metal against his cheek. She clamped her thighs around his ears, still pushing his head down into her wet flesh. Finally she let go of his hair and her hands fell to her sides, gasping.

Tom wasted no time and stood up, pulling her rear close to the edge of the bed so he could stand while he penetrated her. She opened her legs wide to accept him, and as he slid into Rachel she arched her back and moaned.

"Now I've got to fuck you, you bad little girl."

He started slow, giving his hips a slight rotation at the end of each stroke to rock his cock inside her canal. He couldn't keep that up for long, and was soon urgently fucking her, slamming his cock against her body, his balls thwapping against her rear. Rachel had already come twice in the span of fifteen minutes, but with Tom hammering her pussy she thought she might be able to come again. He was relentless—knowing that she needed it fast and rough—and her nastiness had him soon at the edge. She did need it hard; the pounding that she was getting was unusual for their love making, but her wanton body devoured his thrusts, pushing her ass back against him to meet him.

They could sense each other's imminent orgasm, and that brought them both over the edge, coming together. Tom forcefully pulled Rachel's hips to him to empty himself, and Rachel responded by pulling back, her legs tight around his ass. After her third orgasm, she was exhausted, and she dropped her head on the bed, her hair sprawling. Tom stopped pumping into her, and he stayed inside, collapsing on top of her.

After a couple blissful minutes, silent except for their heavy breathing, Tom withdrew. Tom bent down in front of her messy pussy, dabbing at it with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box on her dresser. Rachel lay back with her eyes closed, still relaxed and drowsy. He walked over to the doorway and picked up the small brown paper bag. Kneeling again before his altar, he touched the cable to the bottom of her pussy.

"Start at the top please. I want the lock between my legs," Rachel explained.

"Makes sense to me," Tom agreed.

He moved to the top, threading the cable through the top two eyelets. He pulled it taut and even, and moved to the next lower holes. The cable was no shoelace—it didn't conform automatically to a change in direction like the cloth did. Tom had to really tug it through the holes and kink the cable slightly to get it at the proper angle. But slowly he was able to stitch her together with the steel mesh ribbon.

Rachel lay back with a relaxed smile, feeling her freedom evaporate. The ends of the cable with the loops were wide, and he had to pinch the loops forcefully with his fingers to make it small enough to force it through her holes. The metal clip securing the loop ends was rough and sharp, so Tom worked carefully not to brush that against her still engorged delicate pink skin. Rachel could sense how much harder going it was with the cable, feeling much more pulling and yanking than when he normally laced her, feeling the cable resist the tight turns and curves of the lacing, feeling the cable springing back and forcing her eyelets into wider, turned angles.

Tom reached the bottom. With the cable unable to tightly conform to the curves, he almost didn't have enough length. The cable loops were long enough to touch the bottom holes, but not to push through. He left the bedroom, and after a minute or two came back with a pair of needle nose pliers. He squished her pussy together tightly, tugging out any last little remaining slack that he could with the pliers.

The process was excruciatingly erotic for Rachel, and she softly bit her lip with anticipation. Finally Tom was able to get the loop ends to just protrude through the bottom holes, far enough to fit the shaft of the lock. He picked up the lock, holding the tension enough to slip the end through one of the loops, holding it in place. Then he pulled the last little bit of slack from the other side, moving the lock across, and snapping it shut.

Tom stood to admire his handiwork and smiled: Rachel's pussy was completely off limits. Rachel stood and walked over to the mirror to examine it herself, hitching up her skirt to give herself a good look. The stiff cable's trajectory didn't keep her eyelets in a perfect flat line, and the slight puckering had left her labia slightly open in places. Nevertheless, it was a thing to behold—the steel wire suturing her pussy shut, and a small brass lock tight against the opening between her legs. She ran her fingertips across herself, feeling the plastic sheathing of the cable and the cold metal lock hitched up tight against her cunt. Rachel was skinny enough to have space between her thighs so that when she walked, the wide lock barely grazed each thigh.




Straight Laced Ch. 02



Tom took the lock's keys and placed them on his key ring.

"Okay sweetie, there you go. I'm sorry, but I have to leave for the airport now."

"I know. Thank you," Rachel said with genuine emotion.

Tom walked to the door, picking up his bags and holding Rachel tight for one last embrace. She stood at the threshold watching him as he walked out, placed his bags in the trunk, and drove out the driveway.

Unlike the easy comfort of the laces, the cable took some getting used to. Even when she had tied herself up with leather laces as tightly as possible, they still naturally conformed to her body. The braided steel refused to submit, rigidly forming Rachel's pussy to its own will. And she could feel the ever-present lock, lightly touching her thighs as she walked or sat, although thankfully it had naturally rotated itself parallel to her legs which was much more comfortable. She was delighted—her imprisonment had been just as nasty as she had hoped.

For her dinner alone, she had prepared herself a small spaghetti dinner with a big glass of cabernet. After she cleaned the dishes, she poured herself another glass of wine, and sipped that while she caught up on her reading. Not too many chapters went by before she needed to relieve herself. 

She knew this part would be tough. She was glad that her period wasn't due while Tom was gone. In fact, if it were, she probably wouldn't have gone whole hog for the plan. Although she was going to get to avoid messing with tampons, she couldn't avoid peeing.

She retrieved her small piece of plastic tubing. She took it over to the stove, turned on the flame, and waved it over the flame, both to sterilize it and to slightly melt the sharp cut ends. She went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing a tube of antibiotic ointment. She hitched up her skirt, and squatted on the seat. This was the hard part, and her need to pee was starting to get more urgent. Rachel had no desire to get a urinary tract infection; she couldn't even imagine the complete embarrassment she would suffer if she had to see a doctor like this! So she inserted the piece of plastic tubing in the ointment, making sure it was completely smeared with the stuff. Plus, she had no lubricant in that opening; she needed all the grease she could to insert it.

With her home-made catheter in hand, Rachel slid it between a small gap in her tightly stitched labia, probing around for her urinary opening. She normally didn't need to know where it was, so she was completely unpracticed. She was also operating blind, unable to see underneath her tightly stitched lips, and it took her several tries to find it. Finally she had the tip of her tubing sitting right at the entrance to her pee hole. She gently pushed, and it overcame the resistance and slid in. Although the tubing was wider than her hole, it was lubricated enough to enter, stretching the opening to accommodate. She didn't want pee everywhere, so she slid it in at least a half-inch before stopping.

Her homemade catheter stung a little, but she held it, like a clear wire penis, aiming down into the bowl. She relaxed enough to let go, and the yellow stream raced down the tube into the water. She did it—she was peeing! She was glad she didn't have to pee through her cable-locked lips, which she knew would not only be a mess, but impossible to dry.

Rachel had a sudden thought. She pinched off the flow and stood up, turning to face the toilet like a man. She lifted the seat, and released her grip on the tubing, letting the urine flow resume. She had always wondered what it was like to pee standing up! After her success, she removed the catheter, using a square of toilet paper to mop up the excess antibiotic ointment, and cleaned off her new urinary accessory. She took the tubing and the ointment and placed it in purse just in case.

She got ready for bed that night. Normally, she would have unlaced herself so that she was free. Not tonight. She crawled into bed naked, running her fingertips across her pussy, feeling the plastic coated cable, the metal eyelets, the brass lock. Her cunt had become its own cage. For the third time today, she was aroused by the mix of metal woven into her skin. She couldn't reach her clit, and it was too tight to place her finger inside. So she placed her hand over her whole interlaced mound. She rubbed and shook herself, trying to move her clit. The cable was tight and it did lie against her clit compressing it, but even shaking her hand on her pussy vigorously wasn't enough stimulation. Eventually she gave up, reaching over to turn off the light. 

It took her a long time to fall asleep, tossing and turning, feeling the tight cable in her labia and the dangling lock underneath, knowing she couldn't escape until Tom's return.

Rachel slapped the alarm clock in the morning to give herself those precious night extra minutes. But she couldn't drift back to sleep. She felt her sewed-shut cunt in between her legs before she confirmed it with her fingers. She thought of Tom, and smiled. She got up, and before the snooze could go off again turned off the alarm. She turned on the shower, and brushed her teeth while it warmed. She didn't want to mess with the catheter this early, so she let her morning relief run squirt out between her labia, making several randomly pointing jets warmly running down her leg and into the drain, instantly diluted by the hot comforting water spraying over her. She never peed in the shower—that was a man thing—but the expediency of doing it this morning made it acceptable, even preferable, to the alternative.

Post-shower, she went about her day. She missed Tom. She could feel the stiff self-made chastity belt when she walked, when she shifted her body, when she sat, and it provided a constant reminder of him. The weight of the lock pulled down on her pussy with everything she did. 

Tom called her each night he was gone, letting her know how the show was going. She relished the sound of his voice, knowing that each one was one day closer to his return. 

She got better with the catheter, finding it faster to prepare and insert. Her urethra still stung from the unfamiliar stretching, but it too was something she was getting used to. She had stopped at the drug store to get an extra tube of antibiotics to stock in the medicine cabinet. She saved the tube insertion process for when she was out and about or when she didn't want to get wet, because despite her initial revulsion against going in the shower, she found it much easier. It felt cleaner when she was done, placing the shower wand directly over her pussy, letting the steamy hot water spray through her crevices after she pissed. Plus the shower head let her get close, near-orgasmically cleaning her, although lacking full access it was never quite being able to bring her over the top.

She lived her days with never-ending stimulation to her pussy by the rigid cable. Despite that, the lack of direct touch to her clit left her frustrated by her inability to masturbate herself. Her imagination raged full of lust, waiting for Tom's return. The imprisonment was her idea, but she had no idea how it would have affected her mentally. Her chastity wasn't meant to be real since she had no concept of actually cheating: it was the pure bliss of being stitched shut completely outside of her control that she'd wanted. Yet what she hadn't counted on was her inability to pleasure herself. Her unsatiated lust was growing day-by-day.

On the sixth day it was Tom's day back. He called her while the plane was on the tarmac, asking if she wanted to pick something up for dinner on the way back from the airport. She suggested Thai, and called in an order for him to pick up. While he was on the way back, Rachel readied herself. She was about to be free from her prison. She hadn't gotten laid or been able to beat herself since Tom had gone, and she was eager to end her drought. She stripped completely naked and awaited his return.

Tom came in and dropped his luggage, the first thing greeting his eyes was his Rachel standing there nude. She strode up, taking the stapled bag of Thai food and walking it straight to the fridge.

"That is hot food, you know. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, but not for food," Rachel purred. "I've been a good girl. A very good girl," she added.

"Really. Prove it," Tom said with a smile.

Rachel immediately dropped to her haunches before him, and unzipped his fly. She fished around for his cock, managing to wrest it free before it had become too hard; it was hardening underneath her fingers. She pulled the band of his underwear underneath his balls, pulling them out of the zipper too. She opened her mouth wide and deftly sucked him in.

His cock in her mouth brought a comforting feeling, and she drank in the familiar scent of his body. She sucked him furiously, milking his balls with one hand and pumping his shaft with the other. Tom looked down at her, his nude woman sitting on her heels before him, his cock disappearing down her throat as she strove to bring him off. It was a beautiful sight.

It wasn't long before her expert performance had the desired effect. He grasped her shoulders and became tense, and she knew it was coming. All of the sudden he came, and she clasped her lips around him tightly as spurt after spurt of his cum filled her mouth. She could tell that he hadn't been masturbating while he was away—there was much more volume than normal, his spurts threatening to escape her lips. His hot cum splashed onto her tongue, and she kept it there, letting it fill her mouth as she made little murmuring sounds of approval. She relished the taste—salty, slightly bitter, but familiar and all hers.

Finally his spasms ended, his body slumping becoming slack, using her body to support him. She pressed her thumb into the base of his cock, and ran it along his urethra emptying every precious drop of his semen into her hungry mouth. She withdrew him, keeping her lips carefully sealed around his cock to ensure none would spill. She looked up and him and opened her mouth wide, showing him her creamy reward, the white froth coating her tongue. She swallowed and licked her lips.

"Time to get you out of that chastity cable," Tom said with some enthusiasm.

Rachel lay back on the bed, and Tom pulled the keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the brass lock hanging between her legs, and removed it from the cable loops. He then started gently tugging each short segment of cable through its respective eyelet, freeing her labia one hole at a time. It was hard to maneuver the stiff cable, but he did it without needing the pliers—after six days bent in the same way it had conformed to her pussy as much as her pussy had conformed to it. He reached the top holes, and with some difficulty maneuvered the remainder of the cable through, finally freeing her pussy. Tom removed the cable and examined it: it had a series of permanent alternating kinks in it an inch or so apart from each other where Tom had bent it with the pliers to fit Rachel's pussy.

Rachel sighed with relief, reaching down and spreading her compressed pussy wide. Tom's erection hadn't gone down from her blowjob, and he removed his pants completely, easing into her. Having just come, he knew could last a long time even though he was very excited, so he took his time fucking her. However, she hadn't gotten laid in days, and she couldn't wait. She vigorously rubbed her clit while he entered her, letting him fuck the bottom while she fucked the top. Sensing her urgency, he sped up, stroking her breasts and tugging at her nipple rings to maximize her stimulation.

Being assaulted on all fronts, with Tom's cock deep inside her, his hands on her breasts, and her hand on her own clit, Rachel couldn't hold back. She came, shouting as the pleasure crested over her, achieving release after a week of struggling to get off her captive pussy. Tom still was wearing his shirt, which he stripped off to fall on top of her. He tried to continue rotating his hips, slowly stroking inside her, to let her build up to another peak. She wrapped her legs around his ass and held him to her.

"Please stay still. Once was enough. I just want to feel you inside me."

"Okay," Tom agreed. He just wanted to make sure she was fulfilled.

They lay together, Tom supporting his body so she wasn't crushed, but still covering Rachel with his warmth.

Rachel whispered in his ear, "You didn't beat it while you were gone, did you?"

"No—how did you know?"

"You filled my mouth more than usual. It was sexy!"

"Wow. I figured that you'd have a hard time of it being caged up like that, so I wanted to be empathetic. I figured that if you couldn't masturbate, neither should I."

"Thank you."

"Are you sorry that I caged you?" Tom asked with some concern.

"No." Then in a husky whisper, "I loved it. I might always be in danger of being a bad girl while you're gone, you know."

"I do now!" Tom laughed.

Rachel snuggled into his chest. "Was the show good?"
"I sold three of my most expensive pieces, and a dozen or so of the little ones. And I've got two couples who want something even bigger on commission."

"Great!"

"Yeah, it was hard to be away from you, but I'm really glad I went," Tom admitted. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I guess I am!" Rachel realized.

"I'll go nuke the Thai food." Tom tossed his dress clothes into the hamper, and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Rachel lay naked, watching him dress. "You coming?"

"I'll be down in a minute lover," Rachel purred.

Tom left the room, headed towards the kitchen.

Rachel stretched her body, her arms as wide as her yawn. She got up and put on a golden plaid skirt and a pretty matching yellow blouse. She reached under the bed, taking her shoebox, and dropped in the kinked cable, sliding it back out of sight. She headed towards the door and hesitated.

She felt naked.

She paused for several moments, and then went back to the bed. She thought to herself, "I've just spent a week in non-stop confinement, didn't I?" She reached under to get the shoebox out again. She held it in her hands, rotating it to listen to the laces softly raining against the sides as she turned. She made her decision. Deliberately, she lifted the lid, and pawed through the contents. She pinched a thin white ribbon and lifted it out, replacing the shoebox lid, and thoughtfully placed it back under the bed. She bent over, hitched up her skirt, and between her legs she threaded it with a quick fluid rhythm. She left the ribbon slack, more slack than normal. To top it off, she tied a big loose bow.

She dropped her skirt, and smiled to herself, a little wicked smile. "Now I'm not naked." Rachel confidently strode out of the room towards the smell of dinner, playfully flicking off the light.



Straight Laced Girl



We entered our house and were greeted by the lovely sound of silence. The kids were gone. Our friends had taken them to the movies so that Jewel and I could be alone on our anniversary. We had used to opportunity to go out to dinner. It had been fun. Jewel had looked wonderful. She had worn the gold anklet I had given her that morning. It was one of those things she had wanted for years but had never gotten for herself. She really seemed to like it, and it made me feel good to know that I had chosen well.

I stepped into the bathroom for a second. When I returned, I found Jewel laying in our bed. She was on her belly, wearing only her glasses and a pair of black leather boots which came up to her hips. I loved those boots. I had ravished her in them before and the memories were wonderful.

I had something special I wanted to do for her tonight. "Jewel, come lay in my lap," I requested as I sat down near the edge of the bed, "I want to tell you a story."

She was a little confused. I had never asked her to do this before. But she was an adventurous girl, and climbed into my lap. She lay back on a stack of pillows and looked up at me questioningly. I enjoyed keeping her in suspense so I didn't explain anything.

"Silly girl, were you planning on reading a book," I teased as I removed her glasses. "I'm going to make up a story for you. I want you lay back and enjoy it."

I hadn't actually made up the story yet, and was racing to put one together in my mind. I knew what her fantasies and turn ons were, and I was going to drop them in liberally.

"There was a straight laced girl from a small North Carolina town. She was a smart girl, diligent with her studies, and she won a scholarship to a college in California. So the straight laced girl packed up and moved to California, but California was not a straight laced kind of place."

I started running my hands through her hair and stroking her face as I told her this. She bit my thumb when it got close to her mouth. "No no sweetheart," I teased. "You don't get to move." At this she reached back and grabbed the rails of the headboard.

"The straight laced girl was shy, and she didn't make many friends in California. She kept to her self and ate alone every night in the dining hall. But even shy straight laced girls like boys, and she found the distinctly non-straight laced guys incredibly erotic."

I moved my hands over her as I told her this, looking for the places she wanted me to touch her. I cupped her breasts lightly in my hands, my fingers attentively surrounding them then closing and rising slowly to her nipples. I could feel the desire coursing through her body as I touched her.

"There was one guy who was usually in the dining hall when the straight laced girl had dinner. He was at least 6' 2'' and probably weighted about 220. He wore all black and had long hair he pulled back into a pony tail. The straight laced girl was too shy to talk with him, but she would look at him when she thought he wasn't looking."

I moved my hands down onto her belly, drawing little circles around her navel. I dropped them lower, running my fingers through the hair at the top of her mound. She was moaning softly, and would raise her hips, chasing my hands when I would lift them away. I added some more to the story.

"But even straight laced girls have fantasies. She would go back to her dorm room after dinner, and when her roommate was gone, she would put her fingers between the lips of her pussy."

I slipped my fingers into her pussy, enjoying the wetness. I slid them up and down, searching for her clit. The story continued.

"The straight laced girl would fuck herself, imagining that her guy was there, pressing her into the bed. She couldn't move. His strong hands would spread her legs and she would feel his cock penetrate her."

I had a few fingers inside her by now. I started to fuck her hard with them. It aroused me to see her excitement, and I relished the way she pressed into my hand. I felt her get tense and her breathing become rapid.

"Ahaaaaaaaaaaaargg," She screamed a strangled cry as an orgasm washed over her. She was not usually a screamer. It did something wonderful to my soul to hear her cry. I had a deep desire to please her, and her scream was confirmation that I had succeeded.

I climbed on top of her, running my fingers through the hair on the back of her head. I clenched my fists pulling her hair back and forcing her head back. I put my faced close to hers and looked into her eyes.

"The straight laced girl ran into the guy one night outside his dorm room. He said to her. 'I know you like me, why don't you come into my room.' He closed the door and kissed her. She felt his hands run over her body and she knew she wanted him."

I slid my cock into her at this point. I was rock hard from watching her and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she appreciated it.

"He took her head and pressed it to his cock. She took him in her mouth. He exploded, filling her mouth with cum. She swallowed it, feeling his hands on her neck as she did so."

I couldn't concentrate on story telling anymore. I lost myself in my wife and I too exploded. Afterwords, I lay in her arms enjoying the feelings washing over me. God, what a woman I married. 



Straight Laced



Tom held her face with his hands, turning Rachel away from the man who was in the process of permanently modifying her pussy. He told her about trips they had taken, the fun time they had when they went to Europe, sitting in cafes, shopping for dresses for her, exploring castles and drinking wine. Every once in a while, she would wince, her face scrunching up in pain, and he would reassure her how brave she was being.

Brandon was a professional, and his rapid but assured movements did somehow comfort her. He got into a rhythm: align the punch, a rapid strong squeeze, measure the depth of the tunnels, cut and polish them to fit, replace the two halves in the hole, squeeze them together, and wipe off the blood. Even with the Valium, her pussy was throbbing, pulsing pain, punctuated by the occasional sharp pain of the punch, a digging pain of the insertion of the eyelet, or the ratcheting sound of the two halves being fused together.

Half-way through, he briefly paused. "One lip is done," he said. Her lover paused in the story, letting her admire the handiwork. One entire labia was finished: it was beautiful with its gleaming golden circles, perfectly decorating her. The lip was swollen and angry, puffed up and streaked with little traces of blood. She looked over and the man was busy cleaning out the leather punch's hole with a toothpick. Tiny little nibblets that were formerly part of her pussy were falling out the end of the punch onto the table. She gazed at that, wondering at the sight, almost disconnected what she was seeing.

"Okay, now the other lip."

Her lover continued his story, about that train they had missed and the strangely wonderful taxi ride that was the result, about that time they got caught in the rain and wandered into the best bakery in Prague, when they walked the halls of the El Prado museum in Madrid after having delicious tortillas for breakfast. She willingly bore the pain, and with great concentration managed to listen to him and not to cry out. Rachel's winces and the silent tears rolling down her cheek flooded opened Tom's heart and he grasped the back of her neck, kissing her passionately, drawing her mouth up to his.

Finally, the piercer was done. The whole process had taken only about twenty minutes once started, but to her it seemed much longer. He gave her pussy a final wipe down with an antiseptic cloth to clean up remaining streaks of blood. The alum had stopped almost all of the bleeding, but her pussy was still red and swollen, and now perforated by two neat rows of eyelets running along the edge of each lip.

He handed the couple a single sheet of paper with care instructions. "Take as much time as you need to recover before you leave," he advised her, and left the room.

She sat there on the table, shaking, almost in unbelief of what had just happened. She took a hand mirror off the table and examined her pussy. Each outer lip now sported six golden eyelets. She gingerly ran her fingertip across herself. Her fingertip caused a small jolt of pain on each circle it encountered, but they didn't catch. The golden edge of each eyelet was rounded under so they were very smooth to the touch. She opened her labia to see the job from the inside. They looked similarly rounded and beautiful. The eyelets were placed about a half-inch from the edge of her lip. They started about three-quarters of an inch from the top of her slit, so the first pair was a little higher than half-way down her clit. The last pair was just below her vaginal opening.

"It looks beautiful," she said.

"I think so too. Let's get you home."

Tom carefully helped her put her skirt back on, but she stuffed her panties in her purse, not wanting to get blood on them. He guided her outside, opening the car door and helping her sit down. They drove back home, and she slept off the remainder of the drug.

The next day, Rachel didn't remember a lot of what had happened. The Valium had dulled the pain, and had also somewhat wiped her memory. She knew what she had done, and she remembered vague and hazy bits and pieces of the actual installation, but she didn't remember the tattooing, or the pain, or the blood. She dutifully cleaned herself being very careful not to leave any suds, and was very careful when she peed, keeping herself spread wide apart with her fingers so it wouldn't spray on her eyelet holes. She took the next few days off work because it was sore when she walked. She was glad about one thing; the very tight fit of the eyelets in the holes kept it from bleeding much. Tom waited on her hand and foot, fixing her breakfast in bed, doing household chores, keeping her off her feet.

After about three days, she felt better enough to walk around more. Her pussy was still puffy and swollen, but the swelling had started to go down. When she walked, she could feel every minute change in her position—her lips would move back and forth almost imperceptibly, yet the golden eyelets made her aware of every motion. It didn't feel painful, but she was unused to the sensation.

She looked at her pussy often, imagining what it would be like to have sex with the eyelets, and imaging what it would look like when she could finally lace them. The recommendations from the piercer were to avoid wearing panties and jeans for two months, to avoid vaginal sex for three months, and to avoid lacing for at least four months while the tunnels healed. 

At the beginning, Rachel had worn panties just to make sure she didn't bleed. But the panties felt uncomfortable against her piercings with the pressure they provided, so as soon as she could she started exclusively wearing skirts and dresses. She felt like an object of beauty—in taking the radical step of modifying herself, she had become a goddess, and she exuded confidence and sex appeal. She became very feminine in her attire, doing things that were quite unusual for her, like wearing scarves or fashion belts, large flashy earrings, or dresses with low cut cleavage.

The changes in Rachel were very apparent to him. The prohibition on access to her pussy for two months was like dangling a steak in front of a starving man. Tom gave her full body massages at any opportunity, just so he could touch her body. He bought her flowers and candies. He kissed her long and deep, and when he got to second base, he would play with her breasts incessantly, fondling and suckling at them, playing with her nipple rings.

Rachel soaked up the attention, and it fed her transformation. She could feel the metal under her skirt always against her, touching her, reminding her of her eroticism. She felt it when she walked, and when she sat. After uncomfort came tolerance; after tolerance came familiarity. After longer still, it had became comfortable, the little rounded metal rings embedded in her flesh were just another constant part of her. 

She felt them when she showered. She luxuriated under the water like a cat, letting soapy water run down her curvy female body. Her hand would seek them, brushing over them, mapping the new alterations that she had created.

Rachel's newfound sexual awareness had opened other doors. She had never really enjoyed giving him head—it was a little pleasantry she did for Tom, taking nothing of the act for herself. Now that her pussy was quarantined, she took it upon herself to initiate blowjobs. The first time, she dropped on her knees in front of him, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down. Of course, he was desperate for sex, and eagerly assisted. Once Tom was naked from the waist down, she licked his shaft tantalizingly for a long while, dipping her head from time to time to lick and suck on his balls. She drew his balls completely into her mouth, rolling them over with her tongue, holding his rigid cock in his hand while she did. She finally took him in her mouth, sucking him forcefully and deeply. He came quickly in her mouth, and she drank his come, relishing the taste. She provided other repeat performances, coming to truly desire having his cock in her mouth, enjoying draining it down her throat. Rachel felt wanton and slutty and she wasn't ashamed of it any more.

She also let Tom try anal sex. She knew she didn't want him entering her pussy yet—there was still too much time needed for healing. She had never tried anal sex, and never really had wanted to. But she became desperate to have him inside her. Even if that meant that he would be entering in strange new places. Rachel propositioned Tom for sex one night, and he readily accepted. She handed him a tube of lubricant, and lay down on the bed with her ass high in the air. 

"Please take my ass," she said.

He almost couldn't believe his ears, but he didn't hesitate. He used the lubricant to wet her generously, using his finger to spread the liquid inside her rear. She hadn't had his penis inside her for six weeks at that point, and although she was nervous, her body tingled with anticipation. He placed his cock at the opening of her asshole, and very slowly pushed inside. He entered her, slowly and carefully, asking her at each step before he pushed in further. Once he was past her sphincter, Rachel was gradually able to relax and she fully opened herself, softly pushing backwards to meet him. He started pumping her slowly, and she surprised herself by actually enjoying it. It felt different—not as natural as when he was in her pussy, but he still filled her. The feeling of being full again comforted her after their long drought. 

Tom was ecstatic to be inside her again, especially in this new and thrilling way. He kept control of himself, slowing down the action so he wouldn't come before her. He wasn't sure if she could come through anal sex, but he was gentle yet persistent, telling her how much he loved her, petting her back as he thrust deep inside her, and frequently stopping himself to regain control. His patience paid off, and she eventually did come. For her, it was quite unexpected, and her orgasmic cry was long and loud. Hearing her come brought him over the top, and he came into her ass, pumping it full of his semen. He was very careful when he withdrew, making sure that he kept himself far away from her lower eyelets.

Now that they had opened up new vistas in their sexuality, every day was new and exciting. She came to appreciate her ass as a sexual organ as well as a functional one. Rachel and Tom experimented more with anal sex, trying different positions, and she found that she actually enjoyed it.

Rachel kept careful track of the calendar. The first milestone of panties and jeans came and went without much fanfare. Although she had worn panties with a pantyliner for the first couple weeks for spotting, she was now far more used to not wearing panties and preferred to keep them off. She had once tried wearing a pair of jeans as soon as Brandon's schedule permitted, but she discovered she was still a little too tender for the rough canvas. She had adjusted herself to the more traditionally feminine attire of dresses and skirts. 

The next month was her sex deadline. Rachel surprised Tom by coming downstairs nude while he was watching TV. He pounced on her, and immediately started playing with her ass.

"Not tonight honey. In the front," she reproached cheerfully.

"Is it already time?"

"Tonight's the night."

He turned her to face him directly. She stood in front of him, her perfect gold nipple rings now a fixture of her body. She almost didn't remember when she didn't have nipple rings. He looked down at her pussy. She had been trying to keep her pussy shaved, although it had become much more difficult with the eyelets. He thought her cunt looked perfect, and he saw the rows of golden circles catching glints of light.

"May I touch them?"

"Yes, gently."

He ran the pad of his fingertip down her belly, and across her mound. When he got to her labia, he slowed, savoring each moment. He felt down one lip and up the other. He gently grasped her lips, looking inside, moving the skin and watching the fixed metal eyelets move against her soft yielding skin. She had played with herself frequently, looking at herself often in a mirror, cleaning and shaving herself. But this was the first opportunity she had given him to really examine her since the procedure. Having someone else feel her was heavenly.

Tom had become much more attentive to shoes lately, examining how they were laced, looking at the eyelets and imagining them to be his lovely woman. He pressed Rachel's labia close together, and examined the rows of eyelets. He marveled that they did look like a shoe, but instead of hardened leather it was soft living female perfection: his wonderful Rachel who had sacrificed her body for his pleasure.

She soaked up his touch. It had been long ago that the eyelets had stopped being painful and tender. Now, they were antennas, picking up movements and transmitting them directly to her, making her wet.

He played with her, examining her, gently touching and petting her labia, watching how her soft pink inner lips and clit nestled in between the formidable looking golden decorated rows of her outer labia. He looked through the small holes in her lips, gently blowing through the perforations.

Eventually, she couldn't take it any more. "Please, fuck me," she begged. He was ready to oblige, and led her to the bedroom. They played and screwed for hours, finally falling asleep after neither of them could remain awake, covered with sweat, pussy juice, and semen.

Rachel had been fanaticizing about laces ever since the procedure. She had gone to many shoe stores, and she ended up buying quite a few pairs of shoes, the majority of them laced. Tom readily funded her new habit, knowing that her newly escalated passion for shoes was letting her explore this new aspect of her sexuality. She had bought many pairs of laces (they didn't sell singles), of all different colors, materials, and finishes. She didn't know for certain how long they would need to be, but she bought them just as she would her shoes—she always asked for laces that fit shoes with six pairs of eyelets. Her pussy would twinge when she mentioned this, and she'd usually go right home and masturbate, with her shoeboxes thrown haphazardly around the foyer in her rush to satiate herself.

The night of her fourth month was an eventful one. Any puffiness or tenderness had subsided long ago. The holes had healed perfectly, and the eyelets were all seated beautifully and comfortable. She could stretch her lips, moving them about without any pain or twinges. She was ready.

Tom came into the bedroom after work, and she was lying on the bed, nude. In front of her, she had laid out all the laces that she had bought. There were at least four dozen, of all different shapes and colors. He quickly picked up on the evening's activity.

"You can go ahead and pick the first," she said.

He scanned the rows of laces: black, white, pink, brown, red, blue, yellow. Some had glittery threads running through them, or were striped with multiple colors. Some were flat and wide, some flat and narrow, some round. He picked up a pair of narrow flat pink laces, and slipped off a small paper ring that held the two laces together. He dropped one of the laces to the bed.

She stretched her legs over the edge of the bed, and spread herself. He knelt before her, and tenderly grasped her left labia. He threaded the lace through the back of the lowest hole, and then did the same with the other side on the other lip. Once they were through, he pulled the strings both out far from her body, making sure they were equal length. Then he started to lace her up, threading one side through the back, crossing over, threading the other side. He laced her carefully, making sure the laces were perfectly presenting, not twisted or unequal. He tugged on each lace once it was through the hole, making sure it was tight.

All the time he was lacing, she watched with fascination. She had been waiting months for this moment, and it did not disappoint. She felt her pussy being sutured up, locked away like a treasure, and being decorated, all at the same time. The feeling of having her labia tugged and manipulated to thread the laces through the eyelets and pulled snug was maddening—she softly bit her lip. The lacing trapped her inner labia and clit: she felt them being constrained by the laces as he laced higher and higher.

He finally laced up the final holes at the top. He went back to the bottom, pulling each lace snug to use up any remaining slack, firmly tying each pussy lip to its mate, pulling and gathering all the slack until the laces were perfectly tight, binding her labia together. He topped it off with a small pink bow. Done! Her clit and inner lips were completely hidden, firmly pressed within their pink lace cage. Her pussy looked like a perfect little present. She got up from the bed and strode over to a full-length mirror. 

As she walked, Rachel could definitely tell she was laced up—her cunt felt tighter, and the felt her labia strain against the laces as she walked. The motion of her body was softly rubbing her clit in its cage. She admired herself in the mirror. Her pussy looked like it wore a beautiful feminine dress, a miniature corset. She had imagined what this would be like over and over, but was pleasantly surprised by how it finally looked. Rachel loved the little present she had created: for Tom, and for herself.