Putting A Cap On It

Sighing erotically, Lucy could swear that the pounding club beat was vibrating her clit between her legs and making her breasts buzz. Squashed as they were between her body and the man she was grinding like a horny jackrabbit up against, she couldn't know for certain, but she sure felt it. She felt the bassy thrum of the chorus rejuvenate her muscles as it redoubled its efforts to give the dance floor occupants a good time -- and to make her love-lips vibrate harder -- and she ran her hand along her slit through her pants, feeling a hard length between her knuckles on the other side, indicating the arousal of her partner. They'd eyed each other up some hour or two ago at the bar, sidled across drink by drink until they'd ended up side by side, then had shots poured for each other until the room went dizzy and the dancefloor decided it was time to move itself into place underneath them. They'd swung and bopped, growing closer and closer together until Lucy's nipples were as hard as his cock was and crammed against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly up on either side of her as his muscular hands gripped her ass, working her hips up against him in time to the beat like a breathing, horny sex toy.

The pair eventually worked their way to the front of the crowd where they shook the stage for a while, a lot more hands than just their own sliding over their only half-covered bodies. People pounded the floor, drinks flew, and screams and shouts filled the air in the middle of the incessant pumping beat. After a while, sweating bathtubs, the pair sidled away, Lucy's pants half around her waist and her shirt torn at the neck so that she now had a deeply revealing v-neck and her partner's completely missing. They worked their way to the back, then found the walls and each other's lips. When Lucy felt them, she tasted sweat and salt and raw desire, and she couldn't help licking it up and diving in for more. The pair pashed for a while, his strong arms gripping her sides just below the armpits, thumbs beneath her bosom, half supporting her against the wall with his grip and his body pressed into hers, the empty space between their bodies taken up by the heat and both their engorged genitals.

When the club wall disappeared, it replaced itself politely with a hallway. Then the hallway swapped shifts for the front -- and then the back -- of a hotel room door. When at last the door couldn't handle the interlocked couple, it bowed out of the game and let the bed pick up the slack, which it did willingly. Before she really knew it, Lucy found herself flopping bodily backwards onto a double-sized mattress, the sheets until now untouched, soft and welcoming along her frame. She felt everything not bolted down on her body wobble and roll, and, blonde-red hair billowing out around her, she turned on the spot to look over her outstretched, blurry arm. Beyond it, only just visible outside the bubble of focus that was her mental capacity at the moment was a glowing green alarm clock, which read 2:18. Or 5:18. Or something with three upright, fat digits in it -- about the only thing Lucy could tell for sure was that it

wasn't

was midday, honestly. She felt the bed move beneath her half-parted legs and looked down to see the bulky frame of her night's lover climbing over her, and she grinned, reaching for him. They kissed, and when his hand slipped up against her sopping pussy over her pants, she moaned into his mouth and rocked up against him.

At some point her pants came off; with it she took the liberty of removing what remained of her shirt -- she couldn't remember later if she'd stood up to take off her pants while he'd simply ripped the rest of her shirtfront open, grinning with desire at her, or if he'd pulled her pants off while she'd torn her shirt away on the bed. Either way, that article of clothing was toast now, and she was pretty sure she'd left it somewhere in the hotel. It sure wasn't with her anymore. The shirt came off and the bra was a simple obstacle that she quickly and efficiently tossed to the floor, groaning as her breasts were immediately and hungrily ground beneath two strong, rough hands. She pushed bodily up against her attacker and he readily slipped two fingers inside her slick core, effortlessly exciting a deep, shuddering sigh from her body as she moaned at the pleasure of it. At some point -- presumably when she'd undressed herself, she couldn't remember but it made sense -- he'd also stripped, and as she felt the fingers sawing in and out of her blissfully, she bit her lip hard and looked down at the red raw cock that she now wanted inside her more than she wanted to keep breathing.

She begged him for it, and he obliged, sliding his length along her lips and making her buck and push in a vein effort to catch him at the head and tip him inside her. She put his hand on her neck and she felt the pounding of her heart in her head, chest and pussy as air was reduced to a minimum. He let her breathe right as she needed to, and she felt the thrilling buzz wash through her as the endorphins from life-saving air returning to her body intermingled with the pleasure-rush of pure animal sex, almost cumming then and there. He applied more pressure and she arched her back against him, pleading him silently with every fibre of her being and more to fuck her senseless.

When the hand relaxed and the air vortexed back into her mouth, she shuddered and bucked. Only now there was something different about the intercourse -- what was it? Had he entered her? Was he bending down to eat her out? Had he stepped away to tease her more? She moaned throatily and a "please god more" escaped her dry lips, still unable to stop herself from pulsing and bucking. But the sensation down below was uniform and unyielding, and the steadily up-tilting curve to her pleasure was levelling off. What was going on?

Looking down, Lucy saw that he was still there, kneeling between her splayed legs, touching something between them. She wondered if she was just so numbly over-aroused that she couldn't feel him anymore. Then, he sat back on his knees, cock still standing stiffly to attention between his legs, and clapped at her. She gasped past her teeth and struggled to sit up on her elbows.

'Now,' he said, speaking out loud for the first time since the bar. His voice sounded strangely different without the shout being half phased out by a beating bass drum. 'Let's have some real fun with you, shall we?' Lucy gasped and did manage to struggle to her elbows, practically shuddering as she went.

'Huh?' she gasped past panting breaths at him, sucking air in and out as if she'd run a mile under ten.

'See this?' Her sexual partner indicated her crotch, and she looked down. She hadn't noticed it before but now that she focussed, she saw a sort of plastic lump over her body there, about the same shape as her outer labia but larger so that it covered it up. It was a light pink colour and had three small pink LEDs in the centre which were presently blinking one after the other in a slow rhythm. 'This is a girl trap. It's a sex toy designed for subs, or for doms with a sub fetish. I bought it a while ago and it works wonders; it's designed to use your own body to paralyse you. Perfectly harmless and stops working after you cum, which, helpfully, this won't let you do until I remove it.'

Lucy gasped again and sat up more fully. 'Fuck have you done to me?' she asked.

'Oh, nothing,' the man said. 'It's just for fun. Trust me, when I finally take this out of you, you'll blow your top like you've never done before. You'll thank me, really.' And with that, he pressed the top button on the cap covering Lucy's pussy, and turned her on.

If Lucy had thought she was aroused before, she was quickly proven wrong when that tiny little thing went to work. One second she was hot as a volcano, the next, her whole pussy was lit up like a vibrating sex-toy for men, literally shaking beneath the thing clamped over her body. She felt every bit of her insides thrum, and her jaw fell onto her chest and stayed there. Her eyes went fuzzy and she struggled to do anything but lay there, tense as a board while her body came to life.

'Uses electric impulses,' he was saying as he took her by the legs and dragged her unresistingly to the edge. 'Muscle and nerve stimulus. You're not disabled, but you'll sure feel like it.' He laughed, his drunkenness giving him a rush of power. 'I love this thing!' Lucy struggled to focus, struggled to move, struggled to think around the blistering buzz, but all she could do was focus irresistibly on the vibration.

Something inside the cap -- a little rubber clip or loop or something -- was looped up under her hood and stimulating her clit like mad, and although there was no tube or shape inside her, there were little hard rubber arms hooked up inside her top and bottom edges that were holding it in place. She reached one arm out to grab and remove it, but her arm felt like it was holding a jigsaw, and in the time it should have taken her to reach down and rip it from her body, she could only manage to uncoordinatedly wobble her arm about in the air.

'It's stimulating you with a frequency that should be overpowering motor function,' the guy said. 'You can move, but it's very hard to do, and right now I need you to focus on kneeling for me, and not on touching your pussy.' Despite trying not to do just that, Lucy found herself being lifted to her still bent legs and sinking to her knees, and when her arm refused to do more than dip in the air, she did just focus on properly kneeling down, forcing her feet flat and her legs apart. It was like trying to control herself with a remote control she'd never used before; she had to concentrate on one direction at a time, and when you reduced the human body to that kind of movement, doing something as complex as grabbing a toy embedded in your cunt was a bit like VR flying a 360-degree drone first-go. She gave up, and when the cock appeared in front of her, she let it into her mouth willingly, already horny enough to blow him regardless and resigned now to her half-immobilised state of sexual paralysis under his control.

He fucked her face for a while, milking himself on her tongue. He wasn't rough, but he did hold her head and slip down her throat. She gagged and he let her breathe until she was used to him before he began to fuck her face slowly and methodically. Dumbly sitting there like a blow-up doll, she let him fuck her head, tense all over and still vibrating like the dickens. When her mouth was slick with his lubrication and he was grunting with the effort, he pulled out and lifted her by the armpits onto the side of the bed, leaning over her and straddling her body to breast-fuck himself with her tits. She watched him push her breasts in tight around him and just stared, frozen and shaking as his slick, engorged penis shot up her cleavage between her mounds, her nipples stiff as diamonds at their peaks.

All the while the machine between her legs controlled her, vibrating with a strange non-present electricity that shot through her nerve endings and zipped along her skin, making every part of her quiver and jolt. Every time she tried to move, she felt that electrical tension in her muscles, and whenever he moved her to change positions, he altered the setting so that she never got the chance to get used to it. Being so strangely electrical, with a pulsating, sharp sort of sting to it, it kept her constantly stimulated but eternally unsatisfied, forever on edge as if her orgasm's progress had been halted from building and was simply forced to stay where it was. Some settings helped her build higher, others didn't gel so well with her body and she cooled off -- it was these times that she was most mobile, and so horny out of her mind and desperate beyond sense to cum, she just gripped him and fucked him back -- but it always ensured she never achieved release.

By the time they were back on the bed, Lucy was practically gibbering. She was gleaming with sweat and shaking and her chest, face, pussy and hands were slick to dripping with both their excretions. She'd blown him, breast-fucked him, given him a handjob, and even had him slide against her ass, though he hadn't gone in, all mindlessly willing to go along with it and barely able to resist, her body plasticised by the toy clasped over her body. By the time he flipped her like a doll onto her back again, spread her wide and reached in towards the on-max-setting device, she was aching, blubbering, over-stimulated and focussed single-mindedly on one thing; release. She could have had a gun put to her head and she'd have tried to fuck it in that moment. A meteor wouldn't have meant anything to her; the building collapsing would probably have sent her over the edge. Her wide eyes glazed and hyper-focussed all at once, she pleaded him with her whole being. Grinning and deeply satisfied, he stroked himself and watched her doll-like body tensed to total motionlessness beneath him.

'You're fucking amazing girl,' he said. 'What a goddess. Harry, by the way.' Lucy hardly processed the words; if he'd asked, she wouldn't have been able to reply with her own name if she'd tried. But he didn't. Instead, he reached down, and lifted the latex-cupped flat pink pussy-cap off her body. Puffy and red and over-stimulated to hell, her clit fully visible and a long, thick, stringy dribble of lubricating juice like warm glue bubbling and pouring out of her, the second it came away with a sticky sucking sound Lucy's legs shot together and she creamed. Literally.

Screaming and bucking violently Lucy came with the fury of the sun and squirted directly up against Harry's naked body as she convulsed as if she had been electrocuted. Her legs shot together and her back felt like it nearly broke as she arched it. Her muscles, tensed up for so long, burned as they were asked by her orgasm to buck and pulse, and halfway through it as she crested the peak and overloaded, she went limp and floated on the very edge of consciousness as the orgasm threatened to push her over the edge. For a few moments, it did, and she lay there, bucking and puling limply, her raw and wide cunt overflowing, the muscles in her lower half all squeezing and contracting powerfully, making her jolt and squeeze. Harry stroked to the sight, and when Lucy's arms twitched and she groggily raised her thoroughly empty head, hair messy and eyes half rolled back, he grinned and leaned over her.

'My turn,' he said simply, and slipped inside.

Six thrusts later, Harry gasped and unloaded. He pulled out and coated her pussy like a cake, bucking as his own ejaculation came. Lucy just gasped and let her head fall back onto the bed, utterly spent.

Collapsing on his back beside her, Harry himself passed out for a bit, one hand on Lucy's hot body, his half-hard cock resting on his navel. Too spent to think, the pair slept the rest of the morning off, and woke up sticky, aching, naked and hung-over side by side. The pair groaned and took a long time to come to fully, and when they finally did, Lucy could only stare in awe at Harry and his little toy and swear at them both. For a long time, that was all she did, mentally incapable of processing the night before. When harry stood to go shower, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, body used and abused and her mind overflowing. As the shower came on and a whistle emanated from the bathroom, the smell of steam slipping into her nostrils past her heavy hangover, Lucy swore again at the blank ceiling.

'Fuck me,' she breathed, her skin tingling, her body on fire. '

FUCK me...'

That was exactly what Harry had done. And, if he could, would do again. She certainly wouldn't stop him.