Mistress Lanfear now rose to a sitting position. Among other things, the low wooden toybox had been within the circle of the dome. A quick gesture, and two things flew from within it to hover just in front of her. The first, a panel-style gag with a rubberized phallus on the inside. At this point, Isari couldn’t even pretend to be surprised that her mistress owned such a thing, but she couldn’t believe the woman had thought of it now of all times. The second, a small plate, smaller than a saucer, of whatever strange silvery alloy formed the collar and belt that now held Isari inescapably in their grip.
“M … mi …” Isari couldn’t even pant the full word. All this had happened in less than twenty seconds, and her multi-orgasm had maybe only just barely descended from its peak. She could feel through the collar that Mistress Lanfear was still in the midst of her orgasm, too! How the woman could concentrate at all in the midst of this was mindboggling.
The gag darted over through the air, and the feel of a lashing whip across Isari’s back made her cry out just as the phallic plug reached her mouth. “Mmmhhrrrmm!” The squeak was thoroughly muffled as the plug settled into place, and the leather panel wrapped tightly around her lower face, from just below her nose to more than halfway down her chin. The straps running from the sides of the panel, which were meant to go around the sides and top of the head of their prisoner, as well as under her chin, stayed flapping loose on the floor around her. The panel was held in place by the power of Mistress Lanfear’s mind alone.
“Keep cumming, Isari! Let there be legends written about this!”
“MmmRRRRUUUUUUHH!” Her pussy and ass contracted mightily again against the dildo and plug as she writhed around them, and if anything, the loss of her voice again sent her back to the summit. Her orgasm rolled on.
Narrow, controlled flows of the pulsing blue energy descended and hovered in a ring of spokes around the plate. Then far thicker, wilder, gyrating flows of the prismatic energy joined them, and together they surged into the plate, which glowed and seemed to soften in midair. A thin layer of blue energy stretched out over one side of it.
Mistress Lanfear leaned down to the woman on the ground again. “Close your eyes,” she whispered fiercely. Isari complied, still moaning wildly in helpless ecstasy around the gag and sucking in air through her nose. A moment later, she felt the half-molten plate pressing down on the panel that already covered her lips.
Her eyes flew open, and she reflexively tried to struggle and spit the gag free, but it would not budge. Her initial fear lasted only seconds, even though she trusted that her mistress would not willingly harm her, it was terrifying to think of molten metal being so close to her skin. Except the warmth was nothing more than she might have felt lying on her back on the beach on a sunny day. With that initial fear fled, she took another breath and closed her eyes again, shutting out the alien world around them, filing that with everything else that she could ask later after she had ridden this incredible experience as far as her body and soul could handle. With her eyes closed and that endless alien vista momentarily blocked out, she suddenly realized what Mistress Lanfear had just done.
It’s from the show! In the middle of a fucking orgasm, not even half a day after the finale came out, she literally just forged a copy of the metal panel gags the damane were wearing in the show! Except that this one is no prop!
Liquid fire spread across her left nipple, and her eyes shot open again to see Mistress Lanfear’s mouth suckling gently on her nipple. Another helpless, unintelligible moan burst from her, and she sucked in another wild breath through her nose. And just as the a’dam let her locked-away clit feel the same attention given to Mistress Lanfear’s clit, her lips now tasted the taste of her own breasts in her mistress’ mouth. The sensation was intoxicating, though also tender, for which she was grateful, because she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
The prismatic energy continued to flow, though she could see the sheer volume of it was less now than it had been, and she could feel herself beginning to descend further from the peak. It was a long, languid, glorious descent. Mistress Lanfear’s gentle teasing of her nipples gave way to another round of entwined petting, and from there to quiet cuddling. The silver-and-white-flecked blue radiance emanating from the raven-haired woman faded, and maybe a few minutes later, the prismatic eruption from Isari herself slowed to a trickle and went out. As this was happening, the endless illuminated expanse faded. The living room of the Sherwood Forest house appeared first as a translucent image superimposed over the alien realm, and gradually fading back into reality. The only thing that stood as a testament to what had just happened was the new panel gag, which despite no straps at all—Mistress Lanfear had severed them with her mind at some point during the glide in for a landing—Isari could not spit free of her mouth.
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