The last few weeks had been the very definition of fun. Ever since Agnes had “accidentally” bumped into Becca at her yoga class and shared an evening drinking and eating sweet desserts, the insect queen had been slowly instituting her plan to completely corrupt and own the little redheaded cheater. She wanted vengeance on her for driving her out of her city and, essentially, putting her on the path of ruin. Becca had to pay for her arrogance and for her “holier-than-thou” beliefs; and Agnes was making great strides towards that goal. She would break her, down into little, quivering pieces, and remade in such a way that would be of best use to the insect queen.

She could see it happening, the stripping away of Becca’s resolve each and every day that they came across one another. Agnes was relentless in adding the pressure. She dangled temptation just out of Becca’s reach over and over and over again and it was sheer deliciousness to watch the redhead squirm and attempt to regain her composure. Given the events that Agnes had inflicted on the redhead in the last month, even she had to admit that she almost felt bad for the redhead.

Almost being the operative word here.

The first salvo had been the dance the two of them had shared in the dessert bar. The music had been serendipitous, allowing for a lot of close dancing and grazing touches. That was fun as Agnes cackled into the night, remembering the disappointment on Becca’s face when she suggested a dance rather than anything else that was being hinted it.

A few days later, Agnes called Becca in a panic, stating that she had been locked out of her apartment. Becca would arrive to find Agnes outside her door, damp and dressed only in a towel that somehow seemed too small to cover her nude form. The explanation was that she had just gotten out of the shower and was on the phone with a coworker when she stepped out and accidentally slammed the locked door behind her. Silly her.

Next had been an impromptu movie night. Agnes had asked Becca over to watch some silly movie to help inaugurate her new, far simpler apartment. Explaining that the central air unit was needing to be fixed, Agnes walked around her apartment, lacking certain undergarments that presented quite the visual show for Becca as they sat almost too close while watching movies. No need to go into too much detail of her actions that night, but the insect was assured that, by the end of it, Becca was just as frustrated and unsatisfied as their reunion.

After that, Agnes had invited Becca along to a spa day with her, claiming that a co-worker had given her two tickets for her birthday. Much to her delight, Becca agreed and the two of them spent the day, dressed only in soft white robes; Agnes had the misfortune of getting a robe that was seemingly too big and kept falling off her shoulders, opening a bit too wide whenever she walked. She found it hilarious, Becca however seemed just more and more flustered; which was also hilarious to the insect queen.

Now, today, would be yet another example of Agnes’ cruelty towards the redhead so seemed about the explode every time she saw her. In this particular instance, a mutual friend of the two women, a mutant they both knew from their time at Xavier’s named Lorna who also could manipulate metal, called onto them to invite them to a theme party she was throwing. Agnes would have told the emerald-haired halfwit to **** off, but upon learning that Becca was going, immediately hatched a new plan.

A few hangouts and some careful whispers in Lorna’s ear, and the theme of Preachers and Prostitutes had been chosen; essentially people had to dress up as either holy or provocatively. It was all in good fun and, of course, if no one wanted to attend, Lorna understood, but so far everyone was so tickled by the idea that they immediately signed up for it. Agnes was pleased by this, especially since it would only continue to serve her purposes of driving Becca up the wall.

The berry was almost ripe for the picking.

---

Confident footsteps, followed by the firm clip-and-clap of heels echoed down the hall of Becca’s apartment building. The stride was slow and yet determined, carrying with it the thunderbeat, the presentation that someone of importance was walking by. Of course, the few people who were already in the halls or were peeking through peepholes, would find that the owner of said steps was none other than Agnes Nicholas. Though they didn’t know her name, they would remember the scantily clad woman the rest of their days.

The plan was for them to meet up at the party. However, Agnes had other ideas. It was time to push the redhead a bit further. Already Becca was wearing down, unconsciously following a few simply “suggestions” that Agnes offered her. Now it was time to keep pushing that envelope and see just how obedient her new toy was going to be, and if she were ready to move onto phase two. The first step would be to catch her off guard and offer her a ride to the party. After all, that’s what friends do, isn’t it?

Walking up to her ex’s door, Agnes stood there for a second, smoothing out the trench coat that she wore over her body before she popped open the buttons to reveal what she chose as her outfit for the party. She went for something quite scandalous: a black leather minidress with mesh openings on the sides that showed off her smooth, bare skin. Black stockings ran up her legs, attached to garter belts and slipped up, tantalizing beneath her far-too-short skirt. Straps across her chest pushed out her chest, offering a wondrous window of her chest, a focal point that Agnes was sure that her ex would adhere to. All-in-all, she was a vision of beauty, temptation, and authority, precisely what she needed to push the redhead into the corner she wanted her to be.

Clearing her throat and slipping a wrapped package into her other hand, she raised her fist and gently knocked upon the smooth door. Now it was just time to wait how Becca would respond when opening the door.

Becca was unsure how much more she could take.

After Agnes’s birthday, Becca made a promise that she was not going to push for anything to happen between them. She was open and receptive to something uncomplicated, (if that was even an option,) but she would not suggest it, provoke it, or jump on the signs Agnes was putting out.

And Agnes was pulling out all the signs. The way they danced together at the dessert bar was provocative and intense, but led nowhere. Then there was the lockout with Agnes stranded in a towel that offered the tiniest glimpse of forbidden skin at any given moment. Becca wanted to believe Agnes would not lock herself out intentionally, but then came the movie night. It seemed particularly ill-fated that Agnes’s central air was “busted,” but there was no way her decided lack of bra was not a conscious choice. By the time she invited Becca out to a spa trip, she knew what was coming: the least relaxing spa session of her life catching slips of skin.

How was Becca supposed to stay strong and not succumb to her base desires when Agnes was making every effort to appeal to them? She was not historically strong-willed with Agnes, and that was before she was a human showcase of sex appeal. With Lorna’s party coming up, Becca almost considered cancelling when she found out the theme and realized Agnes would be there. It felt like too much.

Except that would make Becca a crappy friend. They wanted to be friends, which did not involve running away because she could not deal with the attraction between them. Agnes could have made her life easier, but that was no excuse for making excuses and avoiding her. She would go to the party and somehow make it through the night. There would be other people; she would not have to spend all her time with Agnes. Manage the challenge without avoiding it completely.

Becca had a lacey red nightie to wear to the party; sexy, but nothing too overt. Being safe was important if she was going to be around…

Knock knock!

It could have been anyone, but Becca had the tingly feeling down in her core; it was Agnes. She made her way to the door, still in her casual house clothes, and opened it to reveal Agnes, who was doing some revealing of her own.

God, help me.

Becca tried her hardest to keep her gaze at eye level. ”Oh, Aggie,” she greeted nervously, ”W-what a surprise! Ah thocht we were gonna meet at, ye know, th’ party.”” Somehow, she was no longer surprised that Agnes flipped the script. She had no mental energy to question it. It was all tasked with reminding her hands that there was to be no touching, regardless of how many… tantalizing selections of skin there were on display.

Agnes was having too much fun. That was a fact that she was thankful for. If this was just a straightforward revenge mission, then it would be over far too soon. She could have easily bedded Becca any number of times and then have done something awful to her and called it a day. But this wasn’t an everyday revenge story; this story required Agnes to be a paragon of patience and understanding as she slowly broke down whatever resolve Becca had.

Well...had left

The last month had been tremendously exciting for Agnes Nicholas, pushing her into situations that seemed altogether impossible, including being locked out of her apartment, dysfunctional central air, and tantalizingly short bathrobes. Becca had surprisingly been in control of herself throughout each and every ordeal, but Agnes could see those cracks forming in her former lover’s veneer. She saw those longing glances, those disappointed pouts, and the look in her eyes that practically begged Agnes to rip her clothes off. But she wouldn’t -- not just yet. After all, one does not pick the berry until it is at is ripe and plumpest.

Speaking of plump…

Agnes smiled sweetly, adjusting her buxom chest a little when the door opened to reveal her far more casually dressed partner. The redhead looked utterly comfortable, but totally out of theme for the evening planned. If she was going to the party dressed like this, she really didn’t know if she was supposed to be a preacher or a prostitute. Either way, she didn’t capture the look of either in any way, shape, or form. Of course, she was a tad early so maybe Becca had other plans, but Agnes would toss them out the window soon enough.

>>”Oh, Aggie...W-what a surprise! Ah thocht we were gonna meet at, ye know, th’ party.””

Agnes pouted slightly, her crimson lips pursed into a perfect look of mock dejection. ”Aw, you almost sound disappointed.” she said, her crystalline eyes locking onto Becca’s mismatched. ”What’s wrong honey?” She asked, taking a slow step forward, her risque outfit all the more revealing the closer she stepped to the other. ”You seem a bit...I dunno...flustered.” There was a paused as she waited for Becca to answer. After a few moments, she leaned in and spoke in a low, and yet firm voice. ”Invite me in.”

That wasn’t a request.

Agnes was unquestionably a vision, as though someone wrapped up the personification of sin in black leather. She was everything a Preacher and Prostitute Party was created to summon. She would unsurprisingly be the one thing at the party no one could keep their eyes off of and Becca could not blame them; she certainly had not figured out how to look away.

The surprise visit was inevitable, as was the playful teasing that followed. Becca was not disappointed; she was terrified. Agnes could act saccharine sweet, but Becca could never shake the feeling that she was cornered prey being played with. ”N-nae flustered,” she lied, ”Jist didnae expect tae see ye—ur sae much ay ye—sae soon.” It was a joke, but her delivery was marred by her clear nervousness.

And then, suddenly, Agnes’s tone shifted. It was not the first time, but it still sent a ripple across Becca’s skin. Agnes wanted to be let in and, with all the cylinders in her mind misfiring, she could not come up with a reason why she would disobey.

…Not disobey. Say no. She meant there was no reason to say no.

”Ay coorse, yes, sorry. Come in.” She stepped back and moved to the side to grant Agnes entry into her apartment. Becca noticed the box Agnes brought along with her and raised a brow. ”Oh shoot, this was nae a birthday party, was it? Ah didnae gie anything…” Becca wondered who on the party guestlist might warrant a gift, or who would have the guts to ask for such a risqué theme party for their birthday.

Agnes had all the looks of a predator on the hunt. Her coy smile painted her lips but it wasn’t a genuine as it used to be before her transformation. Before Agnes would be been coy, bashful, a little meek but still held her own level of sexiness that some just absolutely loved. It was what had kindle the flames of her affair with Becca over the years. But this? This woman was altogether different. She knew precisely what she was doing but she carried enough confidence that seemingly made it impossible to battle against.

Standing back, she observed the other woman a bit more closely, seeing that she indeed looked flustered and most certainly was surprised to see her. However, despite being thrown for a loop, Becca wasn’t exactly tossing Agnes out on the street. If anything she was conflicted as to what to do. It was a good thing then that the insect queen was here to relieve her of any such confusion.

>>”N-nae flustered...Jist didnae expect tae see ye—ur sae much ay ye—sae soon.”

She gave her a smile, a small one, but one nonetheless concerning her attempt at a joke. Becca was funny, yes, but it wasn’t humor that she was after right now. Rather she was preoccupied with other tasks that redhead was good at, tasks that she here to take advantage of.

So, not giving her “cute” comment any real response other than her smallest smile, she then leaned, her eyes firmly locked onto Becca’s. She wore an expression that she wasn’t kidding, but the smile on her face was disarming all the same. Once she had the Scot’s full attention, she firmly told the other to invite her in. There were many ways that could have been interpreted but, right now, she was only thinking of the most basic -- entrance into her home.

>>”Ay coorse, yes, sorry. Come in…”

Becca was quick to backtrack, stepping aside to allow Agnes entry. The brunette smiled sweetly towards her, a reward for following orders, and stepped in. A sway carried Agnes’ hips forward, only somewhat exaggerated but mostly a part of her regular gait considering her far more curvaceous and tantalizing backside. As she stepped into Rebecca’s home, she shifted the package she had between her arms as she pulled off her coat. As the fabric spilled away from her, it revealed the outfit that she wore with utmost clarity. Honestly it was designed to take anyone’s breath away, she could only imagine what thoughts were bombarding the other’s head when she caught sight of her.

Standing in her heels which had tightened up her legs and made her rear more pronounced, she lifted the coat up and handed it off to the side, waiting for Becca to take it. Surely she couldn’t be expected to hang her own coat in someone else’s home? That was just rude. As she waited, though, it would seem that the package that she carried had drew the lovely redhead’s attention.

>>”Oh shoot, this was nae a birthday party, was it? Ah didnae gie anything…”

Her eyes squinted as she smiled, turning the face her. Agnes tilted her head, her eyes the very picture of innocence as she lifted the package. ”Oh no. It’s just a regular party,” she said with a nod. ”No no, sweetie, this…” she gestured to the package in her hand. ”...is for you. And apparently I was right to do so. If you’re going dressed like that...tsk tsk.”

She stepped back, her scrutinizing gaze following the redhead’s body as she started to walk around her. Each click of her heel resounded like a thunderclap in the empty apartment. She made her way around Becca, her gaze not shying from any curve she surveyed. When she returned to stand in front of the redhead, she sighed heavily and locked in on her gaze again.

”But don’t worry hunny. I’m here to save the day. I saw this and immediately thought of you.” she lifted the package towards her. And, much like before, at the door, her voice lowered to such a sweet but commanding tone that it would have startled anyone. ”Put this on.”

Agnes always had a way with Rebecca. The redhead developed into a strong-willed woman, but Agnes knew how to get what she wanted when they were together. Whether it was sweet talk or teasing or her clever charm, Agnes knew the right things to say. It was why Rebecca knew that, if Agnes had only asked, she would never have left for London. At the end of the day, Becca loved Agnes and, unless it meant going against who she was, she wanted to do the things who would make her happy.

Things were different. Becca would always have love for Agnes, but it no longer felt like they were “in love.” And yet, she still felt like she was ready to bend to Agnes’s whims for entirely new reasons. They always had amazing sexual chemistry—a fact which, on occasion, got them in trouble—but Agnes’s sexual energy was totally different. Whereas she once drew Becca in with intimacy, now it felt like Agnes’s sexual will was pushing on her. Far less emotional, but heaven help her, it was still incredibly hot. Becca was ready for that will to push her and pin her to the nearest hard surface.

It all begged the question: what was Agnes waiting for? If she was getting the impression Becca did not want her, she was dead wrong. Becca was not making the first move because… well…

Why wasn’t she? It was not exactly out of character for her. She could say she was trying to be better after all the things that happened the last time, but that excuse rang hollow. Maybe she was waiting because… well, it did not feel like her place. She was waiting on Agnes before she decided to do anything because it felt like she was supposed to.

Agnes held out her coat and, quickly and wordlessly, Becca took it and walked toward a small rack off to the side of the door. When she turned back around, she had to take a moment to process the reveal of the package. It was something for her? Agnes made a comment regarding Becca’s clothing and suddenly, she felt incredibly lackluster. ”Ah wasnae wearing thes,” she muttered quietly, flushing with embarrassment.

The last word caught in her throat as Agnes circled her, assessing her. Becca felt a sudden tingle as goosebumps rippled across her skin. She stood still, not objecting, but waiting for what came next. A box was held to her and she received it, looking down curiously.

And there came the command. “Put this on.” She was being given something to wear. Becca had an outfit picked out for the party, but she did not think to point that out. She lifted the lid and ran her thumb across her clothing for the night. Black leather. Not much of it. Becca would certainly fit in at a Preachers and Prostitutes party. Hell, she would stand out if not for her proximity to Agnes.

Her heart skipped. As her hand lifted the outfit slightly, she spotted a single accessory in the box. A collar. Why did that have her heart racing? She bit her lip hard, looking back up to Agnes. She was given an order, after all. ”A-aye,” she replied nervously. ”Ah can… gae gie changed in mah room.” Rebecca’s eyes did not want to pull away from Agnes (for so many reasons,) but she started to step away toward her room.

Becca was adorable. To think that she was going to a sexy party dressed like that? The young insect queen merely shook her head, almost pitying the poor girl. Though she knew that Rebecca really wasn’t planning to go out like that, it gave the brunette a chance to walk around and inspect her closely. She half expected the redhead to shrink under Agnes’ eye, but, if anything, she stood up a little more at attention, almost willing to earn the the blue-eyed temptresses sapphic approval. But Agnes was not going to be so generous just yet.

Once she made her way around to the front, the gift clasped behind her back, she gave the redhead one more careful look up and down before Rebecca tried to squeak in defense of her attire.

>>”Ah wasnae wearing thes,”

The words were soft spoken and quite possibly could have been missed if Agnes weren’t watching and listening like a hawk. Her bemused expression never left her lips, instead almost taking on a mocking appearance of something listening to another fumble as they tried to defend themselves. These words were lost upon Agnes, however, as she merely handed the package over to Becca, telling her that she was her personal savior, bringing her appropriate clothing.

This was capped, of course, with a silently uttered command -- put it on.

She waited. She wasn’t kidding. If anything the tone of her voice should have been an indication that there was no arguing the point. Becca could have spend thousands on a new outfit for the party, used up her rent money, whatever, it didn’t matter to Agnes. All that mattered was that she do what was told. With a saccharin smile on her lips, she awaited the redhead to take the package from her hand.

The box was lifted away as the redhead took what was offered to her. Her fingers began to rolled over the smooth, leather material. It was skimpy, to say the least, and certainly would have shown off a variety of assets. If there were a contest as to who could look the most whorish, anyone would have won with a dress like this. But the pièce de résistance, of course was the additional prize sitting within -- a collar. Smooth, black, furred along the interior for comfort and including a night, silver ring upon the front of it, anyone would be proud to have a collar like that.

Agnes waited. She stood, her hands clasped behind her back, her head tilted as she awaited the Scot to follow her orders. It only took her a few seconds of thoughts before Agnes saw the bobbing of her head in agreement. Oh goodie...

>>”A-aye...Ah can… gae gie changed in mah room.”

A single, shaky step was taken -- and that was all she was allowed.

”No.” Agnes said with a sweet and yet firm voice. She waited until Becca paused and turned to look back at her.

Her smile returned as Agnes continued to watch Becca like a hawk. Slowly she bent her knees, sinking into the sofa that was behind her. As she sat back, reclining, the brunette slowly raised on of her stocking covered legs and slipped it across the other in a slow, sensual motion. Gently she rubbed the calves of her leg across her knee and stopped once a good bit of her upper thigh was peeking from under the seam of her attire. Finely manicured hands folded over the other, glistening with red points under the dim light of the evening. But it was those eyes, those crystalline eyes like two diamond tipped drills boring deeper and deeper into the porcelain flesh of her standing, quivering toy, that demanded full attention.

The hellfire of a smile stretched innocently as Agnes offered a careful shrug. ”Why go all the way over there?” she purred tenderly. ”I mean, Becca, let’s be honest. I’ve already…sampled...absolutely every little inch of you.” She grinned. ”What’s left to hide?”

And so Agnes sat and waited. Maybe Becca thought she was kidding, maybe she didn’t quite hear her, whatever the case, the insect queen was a paragon of patience. Tap-tap-tap, her fingernails drummed on her knee. She continued to wear a look of slight amusement as she looked over the redhead but said nothing for a few moments until, finally, she issued to softest of feathery sighs.

”Becca…” she said with drawn patience. ”...you’re going to make us late.”

Rebecca pulled the daring piece of clothing from its box and held it up. She was no stranger to sexy gifts and outfits from Agnes, but most of them skewed toward the playful and the flirty. There was nothing coy about her new outfit for the party; it was raw, exposed sex appeal in a skimpy black leather package. It would be thrilling to wear in the bedroom, let alone a party full of friends and acquaintances.

And there Becca was, going to put on the outfit without complaint. She was ready to abscond to her room for some privacy, but Agnes’s voice stopped the redhead in her tracks. It was one word. She was not harsh or demanding, but it was definitive nonetheless. Robbed of her movement, Becca could only turn back to understand what Agnes was asking of her, even if she could feel the answer deep down.

Agnes reclined on the sofa, relaxing like she was getting ready to watch a show on television. Only, the show had nothing to do with a half-hour sitcom or trashy drama. Becca was the show, up for consumption by hungry blue eyes.

It sounded like Agnes was explaining her reasoning to help Becca understand, but they both knew it did not matter; Agnes was not making a suggestion. The reasoning was flimsy because it did not need to be convincing. She proved that when, after a short pause of Becca processing, Agnes cautioned her against making her wait. ”A-aye. Whatever ye say, Aggie…”

Ignoring her elevating heart rate, Becca grasped the hem of her top and slowly pulled it up her body and over her head. Agnes always liked it when she took her time, and this was all for her benefit, after all, right? Jeans were slowly unbuttoned and shimmied away. Her fingers nimbly undid a clasp and pulled down a waistband and soon, her underthings were a small pile in the ground.

She stood for a moment so Agnes could take her time to reacquaint herself with the view, including the new tattoo on the inside of her hip. She took the skimpy leather bodysuit and slid it up her body. It covered less of her than a one-piece swimsuit, cutting high up her hips with a predominantly exposed midriff and, of course, ample cleavage. She was a certified sexbomb, showing off plenty of freckled skin.

But the outfit was not complete. Becca held up the last piece: her collar. She looked it over for a moment, before looking back to Agnes. She did not put it on herself, and instead held it out to Agnes. It was not a protest. It was just logic: ”Pets dinnae put oan their oon collars, richt?” No. That was the job of the pet’s master.

This was the moment of truth. As Agnes sat on the comfy sofa, one elegant leg crossed over the other, she calmly sat and awaited Becca’s decision. Agnes had been a whirled of lust and sensuality since she had met the redhead back in the yoga class. She had been teasing her with glimpses of what she missed, toying with her emotions,and overall appearing as a conundrum of the girl that the Scot once knew. But none of that as left in Agnes anymore. She was sex personified and she was beating down the walls of the redhead’s resistance one brick at a time. Exactly how much more could she take?

It was time to find out. Before Becca had left earshot, Agnes stopped her with the utterance of a single, firm word. No. Becca would not be leaving. While she said it with all the sweetness of honey straight from the comb, there was a commanding enough presence in it that would have stopped anyone. Becca halted and meekly looked back to her. She seemed rooted in her spot, unsure of what to do, but Agnes had the perfect idea.

There. She would change in front of her. There was no reason to be shy now. They were ex-lovers after all and everything that Becca had, Agnes had seen in a variety of positions, scenarios, and fantasies. It was a perfectly logical explanation but logic wasn’t the true reason behind her words. Rather the insect queen enjoyed the crumbling resolve that was left in the redhead. She could see it falling apart inside of her head, tumbling down like a cheap settlement in an earthquake. Agnes only widened her smile. Becca wasn’t moving so she wasn’t complying, but she wasn’t denying her position in this either. She just needed another shove.

And so she suggested that Becca should get a move on. After all, she was going to make them late for the party. A small pout was added to Agnes’ lips but while it may seem like she was begging, she was certainly not going to be the one crawling on her hands and knees. Nails drummed on her knee and she pushed the urgency on Becca to make her decision.

>>”A-aye. Whatever ye say, Aggie…”

There. She could practically hear the walls fall and the dust fill the air. Agnes was in. She as embedded down, deep in the redhead’s mind. While one could easily assume that the redhead was just playing along because of the dress and theme of the party, that wasn’t the case here. Agnes knew that she had her, that the last defense Becca had was ripped through that moistened paper; and that made the hive queen purr.

Her chin dipped but her sapphire eyes never left the redhead. She sat, waiting, watching as with expressionless interest as the Scot started to peel the clothing off of her alabaster body. It was reminiscent of the old days, when Becca used to offer a striptease to the brunette in order to get her way with something, or just for fun. However, while Agnes used to be enraptured by this display, barely able to contain herself, the queen merely sat and watched. The only sign that she was actually paying attention was the subtle flick of her eyes as she followed falling clothing or the lines of the freckled woman’s physique in just her under things. Soon enough she was bare to the world -- Becca's world being Agnes that is.

Slowly the dress that she had brought replaced the copious amounts of skin that Rebecca had shown off, but not by much. Rather the dress couldn’t have been skimpier. And it was tight, adhering to Becca’s body like a second skin. She wriggled into it until it was on and smoothed out and presentable. It put mini skirts to shame and the cleavage that showed clearly left little to the imagination. But Agnes only smiled as she watched her new toy’s will be ground into the finest dust and sent scattering to the wind.

All that was left was the collar. But, in a move that would make the insect queen close her eyes and memorize it for the rest of her days, Becca didn’t put it on; instead she held it out for her to take. Perfection, she cooed to herself.

.>>”Pets dinnae put oan their oon collars, richt?”

Agnes scrutinized Becca closely for a moment or two from her position, eyes flicking between Becca and the collar in her hand. Once enough time had passed, Agnes uncrossed her legs, pushed herself up from the couch, and stood. The leather of her own dress sang beautifully in the quiet room. Straightening up, Agnes took a step forward, then another. Her heels clicked-and-clacked against the flooring, each leg crossing over the other, adding a sensual sway of her rounded hips. She stepped up to Becca but rather than take the collar right away, she turned and started to walk around her. One, delicate hand graced Becca’s shoulder as she walked, correctly the redhead’s posture, before she ended up directly behind her.

Again, no words were spoken, but she didn’t continue her circling either. Rather, Agnes merely stood behind Becca, chewing on her lip in thought, not letting the Scot turn around to observe her. She was testing her, seeing just how broken the redhead. When a full minute had passed, a small breath was taken as she carefully extended her hand out, over Becca’s shoulder, gestured for the collar to be placed there. When it was, a soft, airy laugh filled the space between them. Gently she moved Becca’s hair out of the way as placed the collar exactly where it belonged.

After attaching the clasp, she sighed as she leaned in and whispered hotly in Becca’s ear. ”Good girl” And, as a reward, she carefully nipped the redhead’s earlobe with her teeth. It was a gift...one that Becca better well be appreciative of.

There was a thrill in disrobing in front of Agnes, but Rebecca was unexpectedly frustrated. She remembered the old, flirtatious displays she would put on and the way Agnes would watch like she could not get enough. She was not ignoring the show, but she was not reacting either. Sharp blue eyes were just watching her, seemingly waiting. Was she not doing it right? What was she missing?

Rebecca did feel a sense of satisfaction when she was finally in her gifted garb and Agnes smiled. She did approve, which felt important. Then again, was she really fully dressed without the very intentional accessory? She played what she was learning to be her part, offering up the collar so Agnes could do what Becca knew deep down she planned on doing for weeks.

Standing silently, Rebecca held her breath as Agnes surveyed her. She felt the delicate touch of a hand on her shoulder offering the tiniest nudge. Becca corrected her posture almost instinctively at the prompt. She felt Agnes finally standing behind her and time seemed to hang still as Becca waited for some sign of what to do next. A hand broke into her field of vision from over her shoulder and Becca placed her collar into Agnes’s palm.

Hair was pulled away from Becca’s neck, and she felt it: fur-lined leather encircling her neck. It began loose until it was clasped in place, hugging the delicate skin of her neck like it was tailored to fit.

At Agnes’s whispered words of affirmation, a shudder of pleasure ran through Becca. She felt the teeth delicately biting her earlobe after the warmth of Agnes’s breath already had every part of her tingling. It was amazing but it was nowhere near enough. Without turning around, a mewling Rebecca asked, ”Please? Whit dae Ah hae tae dae? Ah want ye tae take me. Please, teel me whit an’ Ah’ll dae it…” If she sounded desperate, it was because Agnes had finally pushed her to the point of desperation.

Agnes was all smiles as she stood behind Becca, having just nipped her ear and felt the small jolt of satisfaction that slipped across her ex-lover’s spine. Like a bow sliding across a violin, she could practically feel it reverberating throughout the Scot’s pale-skinned body. It was just too adorable. Too perfect. And a surefire sign that Becca was done.

Any semblance of the young woman she once was, the confident, strong creature that so many times had pinned Agnes against the wall in a sexual explosion of chemistry and lust, was gone. Rather all that was left was a quivering husk that seemed so thrown off balance that the only comfort she found was in giving herself completely over to the forces of natures. She was just a piece of trash floating in a vast ocean and Agnes was the current carrying her farther and farther away from the shore. If she wasn’t sure about it before, she was damn sure about it now.

She heard the intake of breath before she even heard the words. The sound was so sweet. It was meek, pathetic, a little unsure if it should be happening but it happened all the same. Her hand pulled away from Becca as she waited for the inevitable words that would follow.

>>”Please? Whit dae Ah hae tae dae? Ah want ye tae take me. Please, teel me whit an’ Ah’ll dae it…

Oh how she wished she had recorded that. How much she would have loved to have made that sad little mewing her new ringtone for the next for months, or at least until she got another equally compelling sound from her new pet. It was so desperate and tinged with frustration that Agnes just wanted to laugh mocking at her. But she didn’t. Instead, she retracted her hand, placing it once against on her hip as she took a slow, calm breath. It was time to solidly let the redhead know who was running this show.

”Oh hunny…” she whispered, just the small tinge of disappointment in her words. ...since...when do good pets ask for their rewards so rudely?”

Heels began to click, sounding like thunder in the eerily quiet apartment. Once again she was circling the other. Moving around Becca, the brunette queen moved with a slow, confident stride. Her arms circled around her, hugging her mid-section and pushing her chest up a bit more, causing them to strain against her already tight dress, threatening to spill out and provide the redhead the exact view she so desperately wanted. She made her way back to facing Becca’s head on. She stood there, any glimmer of pity completely absent from her expression; instead there was just the face of a master reminding her pet of her place.

She waited until Becca started to reply before she interrupted her by raising her hand and closing her eyes. A small pout formed on her crimson lips as she stepped closer to the other. Only when she was a hair’s breadth from the other did she continue speaking.

”What’s wrong, darling?” she cooed. The tone of her voice easily towed that line between pity, reprimanding, and sweetness. ”Do you...want me?” she inquired? ”Is that what you’re asking?” She was a bit taller than Becca now and tilted her head as she looked down upon her. Her ruby lips formed a slight smile as she earned in. ”Are you frustrated? Fit to burst?” She teased Becca. ”Address me correctly...and…” She leaned in, almost daring Becca to make the first move, knowing full well she knew that if she did, that would be the end of this little game. But she had to test Becca, just one more time. ”...ask…again...”

How did Rebecca end up here?

How did she become the plaything dressed in leather, on the verge of giving herself up to the ownership of her ex-girlfriend? She knew what getting back together with Agnes felt like; she was almost an expert at this point. It was not love now, but it was want. So much want. Too much want for one woman to handle, and all she had to do was comply for Agnes to satisfy that want.

Becca asked what it was she had to do, because in that moment, she was ready to do anything to finally earn the reward Agnes was dangling over her head for weeks. She pouted when Agnes pulled away, trying to figure out what she did wrong. Thankfully, her temptress scolded her and reminded her to mind her tone. Was she being rude? Maybe she was just being too forward. She stepped out of line and she had to be careful not to do that again, clearly.

She would be patient and wait out the surveillance of Agnes circling her, even if patient was the one thing she had no clue how to be as she slowly devolved into a quivering mess. Back straight, chest out, steady breaths, (or an attempt at them, at least.) ”Ah’m sor—” Agnes hushed her before she could apologize for her misstep, and she silenced herself quickly, learning her lesson.

Agnes took her spot front and center, the personification of sex and control. Becca looked up at her, trying to hold her composure as Agnes asked how badly she wanted her. Finally, she gave Becca the clear, direct instructions she needed. She just had to ask again and address Agnes properly. Part of her thought to question what the proper means of address was, but the feeling down in her core told her exactly what Agnes was going to be to her. She refrained from moving forward a centimeter, knowing it was not her position to make a move. Maybe in the past, but this was a new dynamic.

”Please… Ah want tae be taken… Mistress…”

Agnes possessed all the careful gaze of a predatory bird watching a mouse scurry across an open plain. However, in this case there wasn’t leagues of distance between her and her target. No, here she was directly in front of the redhead, almost daring her to make a move. Watching as he chest rose and fell with each struggling breath, eyeing the small quiver that ran across her skin at the desperate need to be touched. It didn’t escape the blue-eyed goddess what Becca wanted and while she was fine with doling out rewards now and again, she was not going to do so for “bad” behavior.

Becca was falling apart. Agnes could see it. It was why she was smiling. Her prey might think it was because she was doing a good job, and in a sense that was true. Agnes smiled as any master would over a well-trained pet. Becca stood, she spoke when beckoned, and she was desperate for Agnes’ approval -- exactly what the brunette wanted from her ex this whole time. But there was still more pushing to be done, more lessons to be proved, and so much servitude to instill in the shaking redhead.

And Agnes was going to coax every...last...ounce of it out of the pathetic Scot.

But first thing was first. Agnes saw how desperate the redhead was for attention. Even the smallest touched seemed to send ripples coursing throughout her being. And as much as Agnes wanted to oblige (not really) there was behavior that needed correction; first and foremost -- she needed to be addressed properly.

Standing before the pale-skinned woman, Agnes gently chastised her for her improper behavior. If Becca wanted to relieve her frustrations, all she had to do was ask again. However, rather than go by some ridiculous moniker as “Aggie” or even a properly tilted “Ms. Nicholas”, she wanted something that was far more fitting for this occasion. Something that, even under all the raging hormones and wanton desire that coursed beneath Becca’s skin, Becca would know as the only right answer.

Hands on her hips. Agnes carefully tapped her fingers against the leather, waiting patiently for Becca to show how much she was learning. She was always a fast learner -- she would give her that. Then, almost pathetically, the mewling kitten spoke again.

>>”Please… Ah want tae be taken… Mistress…”

The a true succubus could possess the smile that Agnes possessed now. Her fine, ruby lips stretched and curled into a grin of utter triumph. She sipped at the elixir of domination that she now held over this young woman’s head and it was indeed a most delicious tonic. But for as much as she wanted to revel in her victory, there was still more to inflict upon the redhead. As she was asked for appropriately, it only felt right that she were given her sought after award. But...only after Becca was made fully clear what was expected of her.

She advanced. Only a step, but it was close enough for Becca to feel the fullness of Agnes’ body heat against hers. A thin, leather-clad hand reached out and touched the redhead upon her bare shoulder. From there the delicate fingers slowly began to slide across Becca’s quivering skin, down her arms, moving across her midsection, and back up the sides of her ribs. Agnes was sure to avoid certain…areas as she carefully leaned in her lips once more at Becca’s ear.

”You…want to be taken…” she repeated carefully. ”You want me?” she asked again, her hot breath tickling the inside of Becca’s ear. ”No, no, honey. This isn’t a cheesy love song,” Gently she teased her body against Becca’s, the full sensation of the new, curvaceous form she had been begging for now finally against her own. Even fully clothed, after being deprived for so long it would have felt amazing to the redhead. Agnes, merely continued. ”I don’t want you to want me, my sweet pet,” Her lips dragged across Becca’s jaw, hands squeezing her hips. ”I want you…” she reached up, a hand taking Becca by the chin and turning her so that their eyes were locked so closing it was all the other could see. And Agnes smiled. ”...to NEED me.” She wrapped her arms around Becca’s body, pulling her closer. ”I want you to LIVE for me,” her fingers raked down Becca’s exposed back, leaving red trails across her alabaster skin. ”You can give that to me…” she said, her head tilting as she she firmly pulled Becca close to her, cupping her from behind and offering the smallest graze of her lips across hers. ”...can’t you?”

Becca valued her independence. She had people in her life because she wanted them to be there. She needed her friends, but they were her friends because they did not try to push her or control the way she lived her life. Hell, part of what she knew to be the problem of her relationship with Agnes had been how co-dependent they were becoming with each other in the end.

It was therefore very unexpected that she would so willingly put herself in a situation where she was offering herself to someone in such an unequal way. She would not have guessed how much of a thrill she would feel in submitting. Just shy of twenty-five and Becca was evidently still learning new things about herself.

She was giving herself to Agnes. But this was Agnes. She trusted her, right? Maybe she was a reborn bombshell with an increased libido, but it was still Agnes… right?

It was meek, but Becca had officially given Agnes the title of Mistress, and she was rewarded with the warmth of an alluring body against her. Her entire body was tingling with anticipation.

Except her new Mistress was apparently the type to play with her meal, and she was not quite satisfied with Becca’s admission of submission. Her hands traversed Becca’s speckled skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. Where her touch used to melt Becca, now it felt more like she was being primed to detonate. Wanting was not enough, but… did she need Agnes?

In the heat of that moment, it felt like a silly question. She took one last deep breath, reminding her that she could still breath. ”Ah need ye. Ah’m yers tae dae with whit ye want. Please… Mistress…”


It was almost dehumanizing, but that did not matter. What mattered was the look of approval her words earned her. All it took was giving herself up to be led by the hand like she was on a leash toward the bedroom. The party held no interest to her. All she wanted from the night was to do whatever Agnes wanted her to do. Good girls got rewards, after all.

FTB