Author's Note:
This is Part 4 of Taming Kit, part of a larger ongoing work exploring themes of power, desire, emotional tension, and shifting dynamics between multiple characters. While this chapter contains explicit scenes, not every chapter will. The story is a slow burn with layered emotional development and psychological complexity, so each installment builds on the last.
⚠️ Content Warnings:
This chapter contains consensual BDSM, D/s dynamics, restraint, face-sitting, oral sex, voyeurism, and dirty talk. Themes of emotional manipulation, power struggles, and possessiveness are present throughout the story. Reader discretion is advised.
If you're just joining us, I recommend starting from Part 1- Lessons for Gia to fully experience the emotional arc of these characters. 💋
Gia-
The sound of the door makes my eyes flutter open. I expected her to be gone.
But there she is.
Kit.
I blink, half in a dream, half still warm from the touch of her hands and the ache between my thighs. I didn't realize how much I wanted her to come back until she did.
She steps into the low light, every inch of her like a shadow dressed in sin.
The first thing I notice are her thighs. Strong. Defined. The kind of strength that comes from intention, not vanity.
There's power in the way she moves, like she owns the floor beneath her feet. The fishnet stockings she wears only emphasize the cut of her legs, every step a reminder of how she owned me earlier and made me hers.
Her stomach is flat, and toned. Not soft, but not carved into abs either. Just the kind of body that makes me ache to touch and explore.
The black bustier clings to her like it was stitched onto her skin. Over it, a lace bra frames her small breasts, the fabric doing little to hide what is underneath. I can see the slope of her nipples through the mesh, hard from the chill or maybe from the look she gives me--like she is about to ruin me all over again.
And her hair. Long, auburn waves spill down her back and over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that makes her look a little feral, and maybe a little divine.
She looks like temptation wrapped in confidence. Like something I should run from, but can't.
My breath catches. She's here for more.
And I want more.
Kit steps closer, her eyes scanning my face.
"I couldn't stay away," she whispers. Her voice is low and husky and sends shivers down my spine. There's a weight behind her words, like something has shifted in her.
She kneels beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek with the back of her hand. Her touch is soft, but there's a strength to it. The same strength that pressed me down and unraveled me earlier.
"Gia, I know you've had a long night," she says, her eyes searching mine, "so I need you to be honest with me."
Her thumb traces my bottom lip.
"Are you too tired? Or would you mind if we play some more?"
The answer is immediately on my tongue, but she quiets me before I can speak.
"I want you to know there is no wrong answer here. You don't owe me anything. I only want what you're willing to give."
I can't help but smile.
"I'd love to play more, Mistress."
Kit's answering smile is slow, dangerous, and deeply satisfied.
"Good," she says as her fingers curl around my jaw. "Because I'm not finished with you, yet."
Her kiss is hard, and deep. I can't keep myself from moaning into her mouth.
"Back on the bed sweet Gia. Arms up, legs spread. I want you right where I had you."
I don't hesitate. I stretch myself across the bed and offer myself to her without a word. There's something exhilarating about being bound, about surrendering every inch of myself to this powerful woman.
I love the sound of the buckles sliding home. The feel of the leather is hard against my skin. I love the way Kit handles me. She's firm, unhurried, and sure of herself. I shouldn't, but for some reason I've never felt safer... or more exposed.
Kit slowly runs her hands up my thighs and I shiver with anticipation. Her palms are warm and steady. Her thumbs brush beneath the edge of where the restraint meets my skin and she lingers there. Just long enough to make me squirm before leaning in close, her breath hot against my inner thigh.
"You look so fucking good like this," she murmurs, her voice low with want. It lands in my chest like a lightning strike. I ache to be used, to be the thing Kit wants, the thing that makes her lose control.
My mind races. Will she take it slow? Will she be rough? Will she freely give her praise or make me scream for it. I tremble, waiting, wanting everything she can give me.
I want to please her. I want to be good for her. I want to watch her as she comes undone.
Her fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin. She's deliberate, teasing, never quite touching the places I want her to touch the most.
"I could take my time" she says, almost to herself. "Make you beg." She drags her nails up the skin of my hips and over my stomach, pausing just before the swell of my breasts. My nipples harden for her.
She leans in low until her mouth is just above my ear "Would you like that sweet Gia? Want me to play nice, or make you scream?"
My heart stutters and I try to clench my thighs together but the blasted restrains keep my legs open.
