The Outfit by Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17
Uber Setting: Diablo II
Disclaimer: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and Diablo II by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass http://alia.customer.netspace.net.au/glass.htm
The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Author's Note: Note: This short story takes place a few weeks after the end of Hellebore.
Dedication: This short story is my tribute to JustSkipIt (Debra), author of Please - The Series, the original 'Kitten' tale.
Feedback: Hell yeah!

Summary: Tara has a surprise in store for Willow.

Willow sat up in bed with her legs stretched out before her, one of the two journals she and Tara shared nestled in her lap, awaiting the first stroke of her quill. Their journal proper, where they took turns recording events of the day, interesting stories, mental meanderings... all the accumulated thoughts of two full lives, was closed on the writing desk. The one Willow was preparing to add to was their other journal, the private one, the one in which the carefully- composed pages, in both Willow's precise, neat hand and Tara's flowing one, recorded the most intimate details of their lives, their passion, their unbridled desire for each other, the times when love swept them utterly away from the world... Willow found herself given to take far more care writing in this journal. For the other, whatever mood she was in at the time – analytical, whimsical, inclined to brevity or expansiveness in her writing – would do. For this, she demanded of herself only the most complete, deeply personal words she could muster. Entering a new passage inevitably began with a period of sitting and wondering how to begin, how to commit love to paper and ink.

She glanced fondly down at Tara, still lying curled against her, a hand on her thigh, in beautiful sleep under the light of a dozen candles. It would be some time yet before Willow would have to rouse her for dinner; turning her attention back to the journal, she cast her mind back to earlier in the day.

Willow returned to the room she and Tara shared in the expansive Palace, home of the Duke of Duncraig and about three hundred other people as well, to find Tara waiting for her, dressed in a long black robe that trailed on the floor. The shutters were closed against the last light of the afternoon, and the room was lit by a dozen scented candles, casting a soft, intimate glow and filling the air with a faint aroma that promised enchanted dreams.

"What's the occasion?" Willow grinned, dropping her satchel by the door and leaning her staff against the wall, next to Tara's spear.

"I've got a surprise for you," Tara said with a knowing smile, which was all that Willow needed to know there was more going on than Tara being in the mood for candles suddenly. She crossed the room to stand beside Tara, and noticed, in her customary appraisal of her betrothed's intoxicating presence, that she seemed a little taller than usual. She glanced down at the tip of a toe, poking out from beneath the hem of Tara's robe.

"You're wearing high boots?" she wondered, with amused bafflement causing a cute smile to grace her lips. "With a robe?"

"I bought myself some new clothes," Tara said airily, glancing sidelong at Willow as she snuffed out the lit taper and returned it to its box. "My payment for instructing the Duke's archers included a little bonus this week. Captain Tallen said the Duke was particularly pleased on the weekend when he saw how his soldiers had improved. So I took a stroll through the market district."

She winked at Willow and turned to cross the room, picking up a discarded book from the table and returning it to its shelf. As she left the carpet and crossed the wooden floor near the bookcase, Willow distinctly heard the difference in the sound of her footsteps, the muted impacts of hard soles against the wood., and noticed that Tara's hips had developed a particularly sensual sway from the hints she could see beneath her robe.

"I found a little shop just off the main square," Tara continued, "with a discreet little sign that piqued my curiosity, and I went inside. They had some very... interesting clothing, so I bought myself a new outfit. I thought you might like it." She returned to stand in front of Willow, and undid the sash around her waist. As her fingers peeked out of the trailing sleeves of the robe, Willow noticed with a raised eyebrow that she was wearing finely-stitched black gloves.

"So," Tara said, with a smile that promised a great deal, "what do you think?" She reached up to pull back the chest of the robe, and shrugged it leisurely from her shoulders. The material fell softly to the ground, and Willow gaped in astonishment.

"Nuh-uh," Willow said, still unable to tear her eyes from Tara's form, "brain, mushy..." At that point the effort to speak became too much, and she fell silent in admiration and arousal.

Her eyes were drawn first and foremost to Tara's bosom, and in all honesty she couldn't blame them. Her beloved was wearing a bustier of smooth, soft black leather, containing her figure in an elegant curve, fitted perfectly by way of buckled straps on either side. From her waist upwards stretched twin rows of tiny brass buttons, and between them ran a series of laces, holding the garment tight around her torso and offering tiny glimpses of pale skin between them. The top was level, and by it her breasts were supported – no, presented was the word – most delectably, twin swells of silken perfection, and the cleavage beneath them accentuated to a velvety chasm Willow would fall into without a second's hesitation. Her nipples were barely covered – indeed, Willow noticed the edge of the coral-hued aureoles surrounding them, peeking over the top.

Tara grinned at Willow's speechless appraisal, and put her hands – in black gloves, reaching half-way from elbows to shoulders – on her hips, shifting her weight slightly. Willow seemed to emerge from her trance, and her eyes traveled down to take in the rest of her lover.

A thin band of bare skin peeked through from beneath the bottom edge of the bustier, inviting hands to stroke her skin, grip her waist. Low on her hips began the smoothest, shiniest, sexiest pair of trousers Willow had ever seen – black, silken and tight enough that they may as well have been painted on. Every curve of Tara's shapely legs was there, thin strips of reflected light marking them, while the smoothness of her flesh was imitated by the deep, dark leather. Just below her knees were the tops of black riding boots, strapped down the outsides, the toes slightly pointed, the heels lifting off the ground an inch more than usual.

Willow's eyes made the tortuously arousing journey back up Tara's body, sliding up her black-clad legs, along the laces running up the front of her torso, managing with an effort of will to get past her full breasts, rising as she inhaled, to finally meet her gaze.

Willow opened her mouth, and found her voice still absent. Instead she stepped forward, pressing herself against Tara, her arms circling her waist, hands roaming her back, reveling in the cool, smooth touch – like her armor but more so, as if the qualities she found arousing there had been woven, on their own, into a form that truly deserved them. Of their own volition, her palms descended to cup Tara's buttocks, squeezing gently, while her fingertips reached the defined cleft between them, sliding across the material that, far from hiding this intimate form, enhanced it.

'Goddess,' she thought, 'every curve... it hides nothing... might as well be naked...'

"You like," Tara said again, but this time it was clearly a confirmation of what she knew without a doubt.

"I like," Willow whispered unsteadily, barely finding her voice again, but unable to remain silent. "I love..."

"I know," Tara nodded, her gloved hands cupping Willow's face, positioning her lips to be tasted, "I love you."

Their kiss was long, slow. Willow found herself utterly helpless in Tara's arms, able only to continue touching her, as she welcomed every venture Tara's lips made across hers, and her tongue delving deep into her mouth. Attuned to Tara's moods, she felt the confidence in her, the arousal in being the one to reach forward, to guide, to bestow pleasure as and when she chose, and know that no matter how she teased and tantalized, her love was received and returned. Willow sensed at once that Tara's inclination this afternoon matched her attire – Tara wanted to take her. A thrill ran through her, a moan escaping her throat, arousal heightening itself, the expectation of what was to come sweetened by the depth of her own desire for it.

"Mmm," Tara murmured, ending the kiss with a final brush of her tongue over Willow's lower lip, "my Willow..."

"Your Willow," Willow said at once, eyes fluttering open to see the smile on Tara's face assuming a deliciously predatory curve, her gentle nature no impediment to the heat of her desire – indeed, quite the opposite.

"Mmm," Willow purred, long and low in her throat. Tara's arms relaxed around her, one draped over her shoulder, the other comfortable around her waist.

"Mmmmmmm," Willow complied, pressing her lips against Tara's neck, the vibration traveling into her skin.

"Your kitten," Willow whispered. Tara paused a moment, in which Willow savored her contemplation, then dropped her other hand to hold her waist with both.

"My kitten," she agreed. Her eyes met Willow's, fires burning somewhere beneath their crystal blue. "Do you want to be my kitten?"

"Yesss," Willow breathed, doing her utmost to put every ounce of desire, need, every last shred of love she possessed and felt into the single syllable. Tara's face seemed to glow as the word faded from her lips with a hiss, leaving her mouth open, expectant.

"So, then... am I your mistress now?" she asked levelly, her gaze caressing Willow's lips.

"Oh yes," Willow whispered. Tara's hand crept back up her body, tracing the curve of her waist and torso through the fabric of her tunic, finally reaching her neck. With a single finger she lifted Willow's chin, smiling at her intake of breath, then gently but firmly held her jaw. She leaned close, turning Willow's head slightly to whisper in her ear.

"Then I am your mistress," she said, letting her warm breath tickle Willow's skin, "that shall be my name, Kitten." Her tongue darted out to flick Willow's earlobe, sending a shiver through her. "Say it," she murmured.

"Mistress," Willow whimpered. Tara's grip on her grew looser, her hand on her jaw more gentle.

"I know, Mistress," Willow replied, understanding – she had only to speak Tara's name to signal a pause in their game. Tara drew in a slow breath, and her hands both moved to Willow's shoulders.

"Good Kitten," she whispered. "Lift up your arms for me." Willow obediently stretched her arms above her head, grinning as Tara lifted the hem of her tunic, slowly sliding it up over her shoulders, revealing her torso and her silk-clad breasts. She gently tugged the neckline over Willow's head, then paused, with Willow's arms still in the tunic's sleeves.

"I've got an idea, Kitten," she murmured, watching Willow through lidded eyes, "do you feel like indulging me?"

"Oh yes Mistress," Willow replied quickly. With a touch Tara drew Willow's arms down to her shoulders, folded behind her neck with the tunic still tangled around them. She laid a palm flat on Willow's chest and gave the slightest push, rewarding Willow with a pleased smile as she began taking small paces backwards. Tara guided her until she gently bumped into the stone wall.

"Now, arms up again," Tara said nonchalantly. "And hold on." Willow lifted her hands, each clutching a handful of fabric. When her knuckles touched cool metal through the cloth, she realized what Tara had in mind, and drew a shuddering breath, anticipating.

Tara reached up and hooked the body of the tunic over one of the coat- hooks on the wall, so that Willow remained trapped unless she let go of the garment and withdrew her arms from its sleeves.

"Hmm," Tara murmured approvingly, so close Willow could feel her words as the breath of them wafted across her cheek, "much better... Tell me Kitten, how does this make you feel?"

"I-I... vulnerable, Mistress," Willow answered honestly. The fact that she was restrained only by her own grip made no difference; her Mistress's words held her. Tara gently nudged her legs apart and leant forward, resting her chin on Willow's shoulder, her leather-clad thigh pressing against Willow's skirt, teasing her with the friction over the junction of her legs.

With a chuckle that made Willow shiver, Tara drew her earlobe between her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue back and forth over the rounded nub as she sucked on it. Willow bit her lip to keep her moans quiet, not wanting to betray too much pleasure yet, when she was sure her Mistress was only beginning to play with her. On and on Tara went, sucking, nibbling, and Willow couldn't keep her body from responding as it desperately wanted to. Wriggling her hips she managed to hike her skirt up a few inches, enough to create some slack between her legs, so she could press herself properly against Tara's thigh, and feel the firm contact fully on her sex, through the dampening fabric covering it.

Tara's gloved hands stroked Willow's sides, up and down as her lips and tongue slowly robbed her of all self-restraint. As Willow began to grind her hips rhythmically against her thigh, Tara let her hands drift forward, each taking a satin-clad breast in its palm, holding, squeezing the pliant flesh. Willow's moans took on a new urgency, no attempt made now to keep herself in check. Still Tara sucked on her lobe, urging Willow on, letting her press her breasts into her palms, her moist center against her leg.

All at once she stopped and withdrew, stepping to one side. Willow couldn't contain a dismayed whimper, her hips instinctively arching forward, searching for the lost pressure, her legs buckling slightly, leaving her hanging from her arms. After a desperate moment she managed to compose herself, steadying her breathing, standing straight again, waiting.

Tara let her wait for a long minute, sensing, even enjoying, the effort it took Willow to keep from looking at her, to maintain her willing, submissive posture. Leaning casually against the wall beside Willow, she contented herself in watching her lips, slightly parted, trembling as she drew deep breaths that lifted her chest most invitingly.

Finally she relented, slowly lifting a hand to Willow's mouth, where she delicately touched a fingertip to her lower lip, rolling it down before trailing her way down her jaw and neck. She felt the convulsive swallow as her finger passed; then she dipped into Willow's cleavage, stroking down to the center of her red satin bra, then back up, tracing the round contour of the tops of her breasts, one and then the other. She repeated the motion several times, taking quiet note of Willow's reactions, the slow, unmistakable building of her need, as the gloved fingertip moved back and forth.

"You're mine," she said quietly, altering the course of her finger slightly to trace across the swells of Willow's breasts, her soft, thin leather sliding easily over Willow's satin.

"Y-yes Mistress..." Willow said shakily, her eyes fluttering closed as she concentrated on summoning her fleeting voice. Tara smiled and let her forehead rest against Willow's arm, her hair falling down to cover Willow's shoulder, the ends tickling her skin. She fixed her attention on Willow's nipples, each standing firm, quite visibly protruding through her bra. Her fingertip circled each in turn.

"I know you're mine," she whispered, flicking a nipple, drawing a gasp from Willow. "But, because it pleases Mistress..." she let her finger rest just below the other nipple for a moment, long enough to feel Willow's breath catch in expectation – then flicked upwards, earning another gasp, "...I'm going to prove it anyway."

She savored Willow's shuddering sigh, then stepped in front of her, gently tugging the cup of her bra down, exposing her left breast. While her hand again covered the other, Tara leant down and held her open lips about Willow's nipple, a fraction from touching her. She let out a long breath, heating Willow's skin, teasing her most delicately while, just to the side, her hand began a fierce massage, squeezing firmly, lifting its breast free of the bra and clutching tightly to it.

"Oh goddess," Willow moaned, just on the edge of hearing, "oh yes, oh yes, please Mistress, please..."

Tara took another deep breath, held it, and felt Willow hold hers as well. She let the warm air escape her, caressing the nipple that was almost within her mouth, and to contrast the gentle stimulation, took Willow's other nipple between her fingers and pinched it, exactly as firmly as she knew Willow would like. Willow moaned loudly, her shoulders moving from side to side, causing her chest to move also, one breast caught tightly in Tara's hold, the other brushing against her open lips as it swayed.

"Enough teasing?" Tara enquired, her lips opening and closing on the hard nipple as she spoke.

"Ahhhhh-ohhh-pleee-ee-eeaaase," Willow begged, her voice catching on every syllable, almost as if she were sobbing. Tara closed her lips finally, applying the full force of suction she could create to Willow's straining nipple, teasing it with her tongue just as she had Willow's earlobe earlier. Willow gasped and arched her back, pressing herself completely into Tara's hand and mouth.

With not inconsiderable discipline, Tara maintained her composure in spite of the erotic spectacle physically pleading for her touch. Softening her grip on Willow's other breast, she drew her lips back, holding her nipple instead between her teeth, judging the pressure to perfection. Willow's head lolled from side to side, incoherent moans escaping her lips, and she shuddered, trembling, caught between pulling away from the tingling bite and pressing herself into it. She barely noticed as Tara's free hand crept up her back and pulled free the ties of her bra, undoing first the shoulder straps and then the main tie, leaving the satin to fall to the floor, unregarded.

Quickly, Tara switched sides, opening her mouth wide and engulfing Willow's other nipple, along with a reasonably portion of her breast. Willow cried out in pleasure as, within the velvet warmth of Tara's mouth, her tongue set to work, up and down, one moment flat against her skin, the next pulling back, dragging its tip along her nipple as if enticing her in deeper. Her legs gave out again, but this time Tara's arms, one around her waist, the other flat against her front, hand covering her free breast, held her upright.

Tara gave her a moment to steady her legs, then moved slowly downwards, her hands preceding her, going to Willow's waist as she kissed her way across her trembling stomach. With deft tugs she undid the laces on either side of the waist of Willow's skirt, letting it slide down her legs. Her mouth reached Willow's navel, and she delved her tongue into the depression, swirling about as if trying to reach into her core from the outside.

Gently, but unmistakably firmly, her hands closed on the insides of Willow's thighs and spread them. Lower and lower Willow sank as her feet were parted wider on the floor beneath her. All the while Tara kept kissing her, pressing lips and tongue into her skin. Willow's moans were constant, and Tara believed she could actually feel the fluttering of her core through her lips. Finally Willow was at full stretch, her legs parted as far as they could comfortably go, thus lowering her body so that her arms again bore some of her weight.

Tara slowly stood, breathing warm air over Willow's abdomen and cleavage as she rose, until finally she was upright in front of her, markedly taller now, thanks to Willow's posture and the slight advantage of her own heels over the flat-soled soft leather boots that were now all Willow wore. She stared down, holding Willow in her gaze, and with deliberate slowness brought her hand to the apex of Willow's thighs.

The glove kept her fingers from tasting Willow's moisture, but even so she could simply feel the slickness of her folds, the ease with which her leather slid over Willow's sex, her middle finger gently intruding between her lips, into the softness within. Willow's eyes closed and her mouth opened, a silent exhale marking a pleasure that she couldn't find voice for. Forcing herself to remain disciplined, Tara reached her fingertip to the entrance to Willow's center, then paused, quite still, just a fraction into the tight heat offered to her. She held her breath, watching Willow – she felt the struggle within her, the strong urge to thrust downward, to take the gloved finger within herself to the hilt, an urge denied only by force of will.

"My glove likes you," Tara continued, "I think... it would be very enjoyable... to feel you around me, like this..." She stirred her finger, wriggling gently back and forth, stimulating Willow while still denying her the sensation she truly wanted.

"Please, Mistress," Willow murmured in a tiny voice, "please, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease..."

"Eyes open, Kitten," Tara commanded. Willow stared into her gaze, hiding none of the slow exultation she felt as Tara gradually eased her finger inside her, fraction by fraction, until her clenching tunnel held its full length, the rest of her fingers and her palm flattened against her sex.

"Very enjoyable," she repeated, "oh Kitten, you're so lovely and warm... you love this, don't you?" She brought her other hand to Willow's chin, lifting it, tilting Willow's head back, all while her eyes held Willow's.

"And you're being such a good Kitten," she continued, "I know you must want so badly to move... to thrust... I could let you, couldn't I? With just a word..."

She tilted her head to one side, an enigmatic smile on her lips, then all at once she slid her finger from Willow and withdrew her hand entirely. Willow's lower lip trembled with want, and her gaze pleaded. Slowly, Tara brought her hand, the glove now slick with Willow's arousal, to her mouth, and dragged her finger over her lips, painting them with moisture.

"Not yet, Kitten," she said in a stern voice. "You see, a Mistress must do more than simply enjoy her Kitten... she must take care of her. And that includes disciplining her when she's been a naughty Kitten." She let her hand drop again, but this time merely brushed her fingertips through the curls of hair crowning Willow's sex.

"No panties, Kitten?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "And I know you worked through lunch today in the workshop, so you didn't change then... You must have been naked under your skirt all day. Such a naughty Kitten. Such a... shameless Kitten... Tell me, while you were sitting at your desk, reading and making notes and studying... when there was no-one nearby, and you hidden by all the clutter in the workshop from prying eyes... did you touch yourself, Kitten? Stealthily lift up your skirt, stroke your sex... rub your clit... did you slide your fingers into yourself and imagine it was me? Tell me."

"N-no Mistress," Willow managed. There was a hesitation in her voice, one which Tara heard, and knew Willow was doing nothing to disguise – her answer, while true, left more unsaid.

"But you wanted to, didn't you Kitten?" she asked with a knowing smile. Willow's cheeks reddened, and her lips trembled.

"Mmm," Tara hummed, nodding, "no doubt about it, such a naughty Kitten. And what does a conscientious Mistress do with a naughty Kitten?"

"Yes," Tara said in a low voice, "she does." She turned and walked away from Willow a few paces, then turned again. "Come here, Kitten."

Willow brought her feet back together and stood, slipping her arms out of her tunic, which was hanging from its hook. She obediently walked to Tara and stood in front of her, arms at her sides, head tilted down but looking up at her from beneath her brows, curious.

"Aroused, Mistress," Willow replied quickly. Tara smiled, and began to walk a slow circuit around her, her eyes moving up and down her body.

"I'm sure," she said part-way around, grinning a little wider as her gaze lingered on Willow's pert bottom. She reached down and lightly drew a fingertip along the shallow crevice between buttock and thigh, causing Willow to tense, her cheeks firming even more.

"Your discipline will be one of patience," Tara explained, returning to stand in front of Willow. "I know how demanding the heat inside you is right now... you will pleasure your Mistress, without release of your own, as I instruct you."

"Once that is done..." Tara paused, biting her lip lightly as she again ran her eyes the length of Willow, "...we'll see. Take your boots off now Kitten, I want you up on the bed. Kneeling."

Willow obeyed quickly got onto the bed, settling herself on her knees on the edge, facing Tara. She folded her feet neatly beneath her buttocks, and on an impulse drew her arms back, crossing her wrists in the small of her back, which she straightened as much as she could, thrusting her chest forward. Tara took a pace forward, standing right in front of her – now a head taller – and looked down.

"Very pretty, my Kitten," she complimented. "Now, tell me... this," she stroked a hand over her bustier, from the top down to its lower edge at her waist, "do you like this, Kitten?"

"Thank you, Kitten," Tara smiled. "It feels good. To be held tightly, enclosed... maybe I'll let you try it sometime. But for now, I think it's served its purpose. Remove it for me, Kitten – but don't touch anything else... not yet."

Willow reached for the tiny bow at the top of the laces, and carefully undid it. With Willow's hands still on the bustier Tara took a deep breath, her bosom pressing the sides of the garment outwards, pulling the laces around their buttons. She lifted her arms, linking her fingers behind her neck as Willow completed the task of unlacing the bustier. Once done, she carefully maneuvered the stiff leather around Tara's torso, finally lifting it clear to one side and placing it carefully on the bed, her hands gentle on the smooth leather, and the silken black lining on the inside. Tara inhaled again, displaying her breasts at their most prominent, and couldn't contain an amused grin as Willow's eyes fixed on them and her breathing became shallow. Another breath, and Willow's gaze moved up and down gently, following the immediate objects of her desire as they lifted and settled.

"Do you like what you see, Kitten?" Tara asked, regardless of the obvious proof staring her, so to speak, in the face. She leant down, undoing the straps on her boots, and Willow's eyes followed her breasts as they swung gently, then settled back against her chest as she straightened.

"Oh yes Mistress," Willow murmured in an awed voice. Tara smiled and delicately lifted her feet free of the boots, nudging them aside.

"Hands behind your back," she instructed, "I like that posture for you, and you won't be needing them for now. Now," she went on as Willow complied, "when Mistress pleasured you a moment ago, were you paying proper attention?"

"Yes Mistress," Willow said, unable to suppress a slight touch of incredulity that she could possibly have been aware of anything else, let alone be distracted.

Willow was already rising to kneel upright when she hesitated, looking questioningly up at Tara.

"Exactly the same, Mistress?" she asked. Tara let her grin widen, showing her teeth.

"Yes Kitten," she replied softly, "you know the... range of sensations your Mistress enjoys. I expect all of them."

"Yes Mistress," Willow breathed joyously, even as her lips drew near Tara's breasts. Tara arched her back as Willow teased her right nipple with the tip of her tongue, then the left, alternating between one and the other, her caresses becoming more pronounced each time. From teasing contact she moved to long, full licks, starting well below Tara's nipples, her tongue crossing over them and reaching more skin above with each pass. As Willow bathed her breasts, Tara did her utmost to contain the signs of her growing, immediate arousal, but there was only so long she could hold out – Willow took her restraint as a sign that she should try harder, and soon nothing could keep the moans of pleasure from escaping Tara's throat.

Her mouth fell open as Willow finally closed her lips and began to suck, tongue still dancing energetically within the warm confines of her mouth. Unable to use her hands, she quickly moved her mouth from one breast to another, bestowing the same attention on each, never letting either nipple go without stimulation for more than a few seconds. Tara found the rapid contrast between the warmth of Willow's mouth and the room's cool air against her wet skin maddeningly arousing, and quite without realizing it her hips began swaying. Responding of its own volition to the sensations permeating Tara's core from her breasts, her body danced an erotic rhythm, anticipating her lover's touch in even more intimate regions.

When Willow finally began taking Tara's nipples between her teeth, there was nothing she could do to remain upright. Lacking the support Willow had enjoyed while suspended on the wall, and simply too aroused to stand, Tara lunged forward, pinning Willow to the bed, momentarily smothering her in a wealth of soft flesh as, on hands and knees, she arched her back, pressing all of herself to Willow's eager mouth. Willow never faltered in her joyous task, her head turning one way and the other, engulfing each nipple in turn as it hung down to her, while wriggling into a more comfortable position, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, arms still beneath her back.

"Good, Kitten," Tara gasped, "good... so good..." Supporting herself with one arm, she used her free hand to cup her breasts in turn, offering each to Willow's lips as she moved from side to side. Caught in a maelstrom of sensation, Willow's mouth like an ocean whirlpool drawing on her breasts, she had to struggle to retain control of herself. With a supreme effort she lifted her body, dragging her moist nipples out of range of Willow's eager mouth.

"Very good," she whispered breathlessly, "very good... outstanding... a little reward for you, my hungry Kitten..." She leaned down to kiss Willow, her lips matching the voracious appetite she had just felt, her tongue leaving no corner of Willow's mouth unexplored. Gently urging Willow further onto the bed, so that she lay stretched out beneath her, Tara relented for a moment, giving all the pleasure she could through their joined lips.

"Thank you Mistress," Willow breathed when Tara drew back from her full, moist lips.

"You're welcome, my Kitten," Tara smiled, shifting her hips slightly to get comfortable, straddling Willow's waist. "You may use your hands now... you remember I said I had a surprise for you?"

"Yes Mistress," Willow nodded, "but I thought... isn't this the surprise?" Her hand brushed against Tara's leather-clad thigh.

"Good guess, Kitten," Tara chuckled, "but no... this is the wrapping for your surprise, and now, it's time for you to unwrap it. Slowly."

Willow's hands obediently went to the row of brass buttons running over Tara's crotch. She undid the first, at her waist, taking a trembling breath as it popped open. Tara leaned forward, resting an elbow either side of Willow's shoulders.

"Eyes here, Kitten," she instructed, prompting Willow to meet her gaze while her fingers continued their work below her waist, navigating by feel and familiarity. One by one the buttons were undone, the front of Tara's pants yawning open wider and wider, revealing her mound to the open air. At last Willow ran out of buttons, and though she had conscientiously kept herself from touching Tara throughout, she knew that her sex was revealed – she was sure she could feel the heat radiating from it on her hands.

"Now, Kitten," Tara murmured, "put your hand on my stomach, flat... there... now slowly, down..."

She watched Willow's eyes intently as her hand edged downwards, noting the slight confusion that crept into her gaze when her fingertips reached her mound, turning to surprise as she reached further, her eyes wide as she finally cupped Tara's mound in her palm.

"Uh..." Willow barely managed to say, nodding. Tara sat up again, looking down her body as Willow's eyes fell to her crotch, framed by the open sides of her pants, resting herself comfortably on Willow's unresisting hand.

"Goddess," Willow breathed reverentially, drinking in the sight of the expanse of smooth skin, naked where previously soft blonde hair had crowned Tara's center. She moved her hand slowly, drawing her fingertips lightly across Tara's bare mound, the tip of her tongue darting out unconsciously to moisten her lips.

"Do you like what you see, my Kitten?" Tara asked, her voice quiet, with just a hint of vulnerability to it.

"Yes, Mistress," Willow said emphatically. Tara smiled, and the slight tension in her flowed away, leaving her to settle into Willow's exploratory caresses.

"Ahh... mmm... I'm glad," she breathed happily, "I hoped... you would find it..."

"Erotic, Mistress?" Willow supplied, rubbing her palm over the naked skin, while her fingers gently stirred among Tara's folds lower down. "Arousing? Sensual... irresistible..."

"All of the above," Tara grinned. "Now... mmm... do you remember what your disciplining is to be, Kitten?"

"Yes Mistress," Willow said promptly, her fingers keeping their slow, steady rhythm, "I'm to pleasure you..."

"That's right, Kitten," Tara nodded, swinging her leg over Willow and laying back, gently pulling her lover on top of her. "Very thoroughly, Kitten..."

Willow bit her lip as Tara held her hips and pulled her soaked center against her stomach.

She watched as Willow shivered, controlling herself in spite of the overwhelming desire to satisfy the ache in her core.

"Imagine, Kitten," Tara went on, reaching a hand up to guide Willow's face down to hers, "imagine how it will be... the need inside you, when you feel my core grasp at your fingers... when my arousal floods your tongue... will you be able to hold yourself in check?"

Willow met her gaze, and from within her came the strength to answer, levelly: "Yes Mistress."

Tara smiled, seeing in her eyes that, for all her body's protests, Willow's soul was obeying without a second thought.

At once Willow was kissing her breasts, hungrily tasting her skin, sucking her nipples. Her hands went to work further down, loosening Tara's leather pants, sliding the waist down around her thighs. Tara leant her head back over the pillow and breathed deeply, wondering if she would be able to endure Willow's loving long enough for her to reach her core at all before she came, but Willow moved quickly now. Having tasted Tara's breasts anew, she moved down, kissing her way across her abdomen while her hands tugged her pants from her legs and tossed them to the corner of the bed, leaving Tara's long gloves the only piece of clothing worn between them.

Tara closed her eyes, floating in bliss as Willow approached her center. Often she would brush her cheek lovingly against the soft hair above it before settling down to eat her fill, and Tara had hoped the novelty of her new condition would allay whatever slight disappointment Willow might feel at being denied this particular sensual luxury. Feeling Willow's tongue slide across her, Tara discovered to her gleeful surprise that, far from being disappointed, Willow had discovered an entirely new sensation to give her. Willow licked her mound all over, side to side, from her waist to the crown of her sex, her swollen clit straining from beneath its hood, as if she had never tasted anything so delicious as her freshly bare skin. No stranger to the caress of Willow's tongue on all manner of delightful places on her body, Tara nonetheless was unprepared to resist this new stimulation, and in seconds her aloof manner was washed away by a tide of pure sexual heat.

"Ahhh-h-h Kit-ten-n-n," she moaned, "Go-o-od-desssss yeeesss... yess, Kitten, oh yes, yes that's right, yes..." She gained some measure of control over herself, just enough to give voice to her feelings, to urge Willow on as she wanted to, heedless of the slight chance of being overheard, heedless of anything beyond her lover. "Yes Kitten, lick Mistress, oh yes... yes baby, like that... show Mistress how good your beautiful little kitten tongue is... oh, so good... so good Kitten, oh yes, yes, ye-ESS!"

Her exclamation came as Willow, lapping at the bottom edge of her mound, suddenly moved lower and engulfed her clit, teasing around the sensitized nub of flesh with her tongue while the warmth of her mouth soaked into Tara's core. She was barely aware of Willow's fingers gently parting her folds, just another beautiful sensation among so many, but when two fingertips edged into her passage she was suddenly aware of nothing else.

Rising up off the bed, thrusting her hips towards Willow, she drove herself onto her fingers, giving an animal groan as she felt her knuckles press against her sex, the satisfaction of her consuming need to have Willow within her granting her a state of bliss, a heaven that was unparalleled, and existed only in Willow's embrace. Endurance was impossible – she cried out in pleasure, urging her clit into Willow's mouth, her whole body welcoming the thrusting fingers into her core, and like a dam bursting she came.

Willow held onto her tightly, an arm around her waist, not counting the times her sex clenched anew, barely aware of her hips falling to the bed only to rise up again as another wave of climax crested and broke within her. Warmth gushed over her fingers, coating her hand in fragrant wetness, Tara's clit in her mouth practically throbbed with pleasure as her tongue played over it, and with her eyes closed, every remaining sense filled with Tara, all evidence of the pleasure she felt. It was almost more than Willow could cope with, but some thin, strong thread of determination kept at bay her own release, despite every taste, every scent, every touch of Tara's skin and every one of her ecstatic cries that came to her ears stirring the climax within her. She felt as if, within her, a wild animal that could only endure so much before it broke free of its captivity was being baited, prodded, brought perilously close to the edge of rebellion. But she was stronger, and the wildness that shouted for her to bring her fingers to her sex, to grind her hips against the bed beneath her – even to press her thighs together would be enough – was denied.

Finally Tara was spent, and one last time she collapsed flat on her back, sighing as her sex gave up the last of its juice into Willow's waiting hand. Tenderly Willow licked her folds, her tongue soft as a cloud, perfectly attentive to the needs of Tara's over-sensitized body. At the same time, without conscious prompting, she rubbed her soaked hand over her own chest, painting her cleavage and then her stomach with the copious products of Tara's bliss.

She wondered idly whether their play was over, holding out a faint hope that Tara would have enough strength left after her phenomenal climax to bring her Kitten release – it wouldn't take more than a touch, in her current state, her sex buzzing with barely-contained energy. Not that she would value her own climax over giving Tara such pleasure. There was truly more satisfaction to be found for her in fulfilling her lover's needs than her own, and that had nothing to do with playing at being Mistress and Kitten.

With a final, gentle lick, she lifted her head from Tara's sex, and was caught entirely off guard as Tara surged up beneath her, gripping her shoulders and rolling her over, finishing up astride her, staring down into her eyes with a gaze that was energized with sensual power. Not for the first time Willow was simply amazed, that an experience which should have had Tara all but unable to move had somehow only vitalized her all the more.

"Y-you came so hard, Mistress," Willow replied, wondering how long she could now hold out.

"When you come, Mistress, I... I'm more than satisfied," Willow said with a loving smile.

"Oh, Kitten," Tara breathed, leaning down to kiss her. It was soft, tender, and Willow was sure it was Tara, not Mistress, kissing her – no-one could kiss so perfectly as Tara, not even Tara assuming a role to play with her.

"That's exactly why I will always give you everything you need," she whispered. Her eyes, staring into Willow's, were deep and liquid for a moment, then she smiled devilishly, her gaze glittered with delight, and Mistress was back.

"I have one last task for you, my Kitten," Tara continued, "it will be difficult, but it will please your Mistress very much."

"I am going to taste you, my precious Kitten," Tara said, leaning down to whisper in Willow's ear, "I am going to take your urgent, throbbing clit in my mouth and lick, and suck... I am going to make love to your little goddess head with my mouth, for so long, every way I can... and I want you to restrain yourself from coming while I do."

Willow was speechless – at this very moment, the mere passage of wafts of air across her moist folds was almost unbearable, tempting her body almost beyond her ability to deny it. And she knew what Tara could do, once her lips closed around her clit... what she most certainly would do...

"You may come when you feel my tongue inside you," Tara continued, "but that will not be for some time... this will be so difficult, my Kitten... agonizing, even, such a lovely torture. A torment... will you torment yourself for me, my Kitten?"

Willow honestly didn't know if she was capable of it, but before she had even had time to think she heard herself whisper, "Yes Mistress," and Tara was nuzzling at her throat, moving down her neck. She reached out above her and found the headboard, closing her hands tightly around two of the carved wooden columns in it, her preferred position for enduring as long as she could beneath Tara's most ardent ministrations – Tara had teased her now and then that one day she'd break the columns off at the height of her passion.

'If it's ever going to happen, it'll be now,' she thought, steeling herself as Tara reached her breasts, lapping up the cooling juices coating her torso as she went. Her tongue caressed Willow's nipples in passing, but quickly moved lower. Trailing her lips over Willow's stomach, through the soft down of hair above her sex, she wasted no time in encircling her clit with her lips and beginning to apply a maddening suction.

With all her attention fixed on the single goal of resisting her climax, and even that severely endangered by the fervent pleasure radiating from Tara's lips, there was no way in the world Willow could keep from writhing expansively. Her legs lifted on either side of Tara's head, reaching over her shoulders and down her back, where Tara held her with a firm hand on either thigh. Anchored there and by her hands above her, Willow's body undulated ceaselessly, from side to side, arching up, pressing down, as if something inside her were straining to be set free, testing the limits of its confinement with increasing desperation.

For a long while Tara simply sucked, drawing Willow's clit as far into her mouth as she could, keeping up an intense pressure that traveled up inside Willow, tugging her fragile thoughts down into the seething mass of ecstasy that surged in her belly. When Willow was sure she could bear no more Tara began to use her tongue, giving long strokes that drew deep cries from Willow, as if her clit were connected directly to her voice, and every touch Tara bestowed upon her was returned immediately in wanton moans.

Willow knew she was fast approaching the point where all her willpower would be useless, and her body would come whether she allowed it or not. And she knew Tara could feel it approaching too – attuned as they were to each other, the subtlest signs were enough, and nothing in Willow's expressions of pleasure now were even remotely subtle. Willow hoped desperately that Tara would relent before she reached that point, for even in the midst of such intense pleasure, she didn't want to disobey her Mistress, no matter that her Mistress may not even care any more whether she held out. The answer came to her out of nowhere, flashing relief through her fevered mind – Tara would relent the instant Willow could bear no more, and give her permission just as Willow's climax became inevitable. That was part of the game, the Mistress as aware of her Kitten's pleasure as the Kitten of her Mistress – Tara wouldn't make her come without permission, even as she gave every appearance of pushing her beyond her limits.

It was so close now, Willow knew – so close, and Tara's mouth devouring her clit still, showing no sign of moving to deeper pastures. Willow felt a cliff approaching, knowing she could neither slow her advance, nor fly once the ground fell from beneath her. Tara sucked deeply on her – she sped up, staring wildly into the sky, carried towards the end of the world. Tara's tongue wrapped around her clit, circling her – she felt the endless space in front of her, the end of all things. Tara's teeth grazed against her, holding her in a fiery embrace – she felt herself begin to fall.

And Tara – waited, still loving Willow's clit as the ground ran out, as her climax became stronger than her will. For a moment Willow simply didn't understand, couldn't understand that she was going to fail her Mistress, her Tara... but then, in the moment when she should have felt fear at the plunge from the cliff's edge, she realized she had not yet come, some final, ultimate power held her in check, held her to Mistress's wish, and instead of falling she soared into the air, feeling the air caress every inch of her naked body.

Then Tara dipped down and delved her tongue into Willow's dripping sex, and in Willow's bliss-soaked mind the entire world burst like a soap bubble, coating her with a mist in which every tiny droplet of moisture was a climax beyond mortal comprehension. Tara held her firm, mouth sealed over her sex, as she screamed and writhed and thrust and gushed through spasm after spasm of intense pleasure. For her too, the world was gone – all that existed was her and Willow, their love wrapped around them, giving them air to breathe, warmth and light to live, the ground beneath them and the sky above them.

She kept her lips on Willow's sex long after her last orgasm had subsided, gently licking at every tender fold, gathering its bounty of moisture, pleasing with infinite tenderness, without disturbing the flushed, sensitized flesh beneath her. When she finally crawled up Willow's body, tugging a blanket over them both, she met her lover's gaze and found such a blessing there that her heart swelled to fill the boundaries of their world.

"Tara," Willow replied, sound barely passing over her lips. Tara brought her lips to Willow's, and they kissed.

"'My world burst like a bubble'," Tara read, as Willow finished the page a few paragraphs lower down.

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded, giving a little flourish of her quill to underline the end of the passage. Absorbed in her writing she hadn't noticed Tara's eyes open, until she had sat up and cuddled up to her side, her hand reaching beneath the blankets to carry on a slow, sensual caress of her inner thighs, and finally her sex, never becoming so urgent as to interfere with her writing, but promising much for later.

"Oh, yeah!" Willow enthused. "Not that I didn't like how you were before either, but, if you were thinking of staying like this a while...?"

"A while," Tara nodded, "I wouldn't want to deny you your favorite little nuzzle-spot too long, but... this is definitely stimulating."

"Oh, no," Tara assured her, "I have a lotion that keeps the skin from getting irritated... it's actually not uncommon for warriors to keep their bodies hairless like this."

"Yup," Tara confirmed, "some feel more sleek, or more able to feel the world on their skin. I'm not sure how many actually go into combat without wearing skirts or underwear," she grinned, "but I guess it's more psychological than anything else in any case... I never felt the need for training, but when it comes to pleasing my Kitten, that's another story."

"Thank you," Willow said, kissing the top of Tara's head. "And thank Mistress for me, when you see her."

"Would you like to see her again sometime?" Tara asked. "I enjoyed that game, a lot."

"One thing," Tara said, tilting her head back to look up at Willow, "next time..."

"I've got some crowns stashed away," she mused, "payment for a few odd jobs Myrreon's passed on to me, that my magic's been suited to. Do you think, maybe, a little expedition to this clothes shop of yours might be in order?"

"I'll meet you by the training field for lunch, and shopping," Tara smiled. "Actually... you know, it wasn't just clothes they had..."

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The Outfit

by Chris Cook

Copyright © 2004

alia@netspace.net.au