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In Chains

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Wednesdays were Harrow’s favorite day of the week. Because on Wednesdays Gideon’s shift at the gym ended early. Like clockwork, Harrow would hear the front door open at around twenty past five, then the clatter of keys being put in the little ceramic bowl on the entrance wardrobe. Further sounds would then drift from the kitchen, the telltale noise of pots and pans being put to use. And after somewhere between a half and a full hour, Harrow’s study door would open, Gideon would walk in, give her a kiss on the top of her head, gently shut Harrow’s laptop closed and lead her to the dining table so they could share the meal she had labored on. Harrow knew Gideon had learned the hard way not to simply call for her. She’d acknowledge it and then lose herself in another pile of satellite pictures of dig sites or grave goods inventories regardless.

“I swear Harrow, one day I’m not going to come home because I’ll have buried myself so you can dig me up again and be like oooh my, now these are the most luscious bones I have ever laid my eyes upon. Call the Smithsonian, this skeleton needs to ride the T-Rex, it is simply that cool and awesome. These bones will make all my rival archeologists look like australopithecuses”, Gideon had told her once. 

“Australopithecines.”, Harrow had answered.

“That’s what I said.”

Harrow had only rolled her eyes but vowed to herself to do better. Gideon deserved to be met halfway at the very least. 

Dinner with Gideon was not the reason for Wednesday being her favorite day of the week, though. She enjoyed that privilege almost every day. (Occasionally, Harrow even prepared the food. She would never admit it but the day Gideon’s opinion on her cooking went from “kinda nutritious, probably wouldn’t make a Victorian era child waste away on the spot” to “are there seconds?” Harrow had felt a pang of pride. Still she knew her domestic talents lay more in the realm of crisply folded laundry and thoroughly managed bills, taxes and assorted other paperworks.) 

No, Wednesdays were her favorite because the evenings of the same were devoted to all manners of carnal depravities. Or as Gideon called it: “taking the beast with two backs out for milkshakes and a movie.” or “gland-to-gland combat” or a hundred other horrible metaphors she plucked directly from her stream of consciousness.

And so, with the lasagna leftovers packed away, Harrow said: “I have something for you today.”

Gideon perked up at that. “Oh?”

Harrow took her time to answer: “I could tell you what it is beforehand. Or you may choose to let me surprise you. We won’t need to make new negotiations for this.”

“I want to be surprised.”

That was fast. 


The way to the bedroom on these evenings was always a sort of transmutation for Harrow. With each step on the stairs she shook something loose, leaving an ice-hot rawness she allowed one, and only one person in the world to glimpse. Yet despite Gideon’s eyes boring into her back, Harrow knew Gideon could not see it. But she would feel it, later on. Like always.

Harrow had prepared the room in advance earlier today, it wasn’t much that she needed for what she had in mind tonight. 

She watched silently as Gideon took in the tableau before her. A length of glinting steel chain was hanging from two hooks on the ceiling before the foot of the bed. From the chain, her gaze drifted to the black box on the nightstand, no doubt pondering its potential contents. Harrow used it to keep miscellaneous equipment in there until she needed it, keeping it out of Gideon’s sight in order to minimise distraction. 

The chain wasn’t new, so Gideon must be thinking her surprise was in the box. 

She was wrong on that account.

“Are you ready to begin?”, Harrow asked.

“Sugarlips, I was born ready.”

"Then come here and kiss me.”

There was always something frantic and untamed to those first kisses of the evening that Gideon gave her. Almost as if, should she do anything other than lick brazenly into Harrow’s mouth, it would pain her physically. And so she allowed for Gideon to push her down onto the bed, she allowed herself to be engulfed by Gideon, showered in kisses, nuzzled and nibbled. Harrow let her roam for a bit before she’d reign her back in. 

They were still fully clothed at this point, Gideon huffed at this disdainful state of not-nudeness and tried to snake a hand up under Harrow’s shirt.

“No.”, Harrow said.

When Gideon didn’t stop -in her defense, she was busy applying her lips to Harrow’s pulse point- Harrow buried a hand in the hair at Gideon’s nape and wrenched her away until they were eye to eye. There was an indistinct sound at that from Gideon. But not one of discomfort.

“I said no.”, Harrow repeated herself, her grip tightening.

Some days Harrow wished she could capture those beautiful moments when Gideon surrendered. So that she might watch them over and over again and lose herself in the nuances. Her expression softened, she averted her gaze, cast it downward for a few seconds before she could meet Harrow’s eyes again, demurely now. Where before she had been vibrating with the need to act, she stilled now. Like a pool of water when the wind abruptly dropped, she was now waiting for Harrow to cause ripples in her again. 

Gideon’s hands retreated, she sat back on her haunches on the bed, watching Harrow intently, who had sat up as well and was searching for something in the black box on the nightstand. 

She retrieved a collar. Simple black leather, nothing flashy but of quality make. 

The next movements happened with practised ease, Harrow fastened it around Gideon’s neck, who held perfectly still for that, then, Harrow tested its fit -not too tight, yet not too loose- and when she was satisfied said: “Go ahead, undress yourself and take your spot, face the bed.”

Gideon took slightly longer to take off her clothes than was strictly warranted. She hadn’t been asked to put on a show, so she didn’t. But Harrow noticed the subtle flex of abs and biceps as she pulled off her shirt and bandeau, careful not to get tangled in her collar. And the way she took off first her pants and then her boxer briefs instead of both at the same time so she could draw Harrow’s attention to her thighs and calves twice, Harrow noticed that as well. 

When she was done folding her clothing and setting them aside, she walked toward the chains where Harrow was now already expecting her. 

Much like Gideon taking her time with undressing, Harrow drew out chaining up Gideon. She took two measured steps until she stood behind Gideon, rested one palm on a shoulder blade and slowly trailed her fingers from there all the way to Gideon’s hand, raising goosebumps on her path, feeling tendons and corded muscle shift for her. Then she took the unresisting hand, as well as the chain, which she looped around Gideon’s wrist and fastened it with a carabiner. She hadn’t pulled the length of the chain taut yet, so Gideon’s arm settled back at her side when she let go of it. 

She proceeded the same way with the other wrist.

Gideon’s backside was a marvel to behold and Harrow indulged herself in the view for a minute or two. She resisted the urge to touch, however, instead she only used her eyes to rake down from Gideon’s nape, the long divot of her spine to her firm glutes.  While Gideon had put away her clothes, Harrow had retrieved another, shorter length of chain from her box. Now she picked it up from the dresser behind herself and stepped forward until she stood so close to the other woman’s back, she managed to draw a shudder from her with only her breath ghosting over her skin. A light kiss to her trapezius was enough for Gideon to angle her head, giving Harrow broader access. In invitation. But Harrow withdrew her lips, instead she fastened the piece of chain she’d been holding to the front of Gideon’s collar. After it was secured, she dropped it down her chest andbelly with a soft clink clink. It must have been cold against her skin but Gideon did not flinch. 

Its length wasn’t random or even based on an estimate. It was exactly long enough to span between the collar -when Gideon bowed her head- to and over the thatch of hair between her legs. It would offer no relief whatsoever, yet it was substantial enough for Gideon to feel it whisper over herself whenever she moved or even just breathed. 

“You may vocalize but not talk unless asked or prompted. Hold onto the chain around your hands, if you let go at any point, I’ll consider that a yellow. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”, Gideon said and did as she had just been instructed.

Harrow had always liked chains more than rope, because unlike rope, chains gave auditory feedback. They tinkled and rattled and Harrow listened to them tell her “she is yours now.” as she bent down to pull it taut and secured each end in a floor tether, lifting one of Gideon’s arms upwards over her head after the other. 

Harrow stood back up, still at Gideon’s back she said: “I promised you a surprise and I stand by my word. Will you be good for a few minutes on your own while I retrieve it?” 

“Yes.”, came the answer again. Gideon shifted and widened her stance somewhat to get more comfortable in her restraints.

Harrow wasted no time then and disappeared into the enclosed walk-in wardrobe of their bedroom. She took everything off except the threads of lace that could only still be categorized as “underwear” by utilizing a lot of wishful thinking. She had put those on earlier today with her other preparations, meaning they needed little adjustment now. They were the reason she had not wanted Gideon’s hands under her shirt earlier. Lastly, she took the knee-length robe of black sheer and silk hems from its hiding place, slipped into it and tied it closed. An oxymoron of a gesture as that did absolutely nothing to conceal what was underneath.

Frankly, Harrow felt somewhat ridiculous in this barely-there attire. It had no appeal to her as personally, she preferred Gideon in the nude (not that Gideon would wear something like this in the first place, the thought was jarring) or. Well. In chains. 

Gideon’s preferences on the other hand…

Harrow had studied her subject thoroughly, she was ready for the examination.

She re-emerged and padded softly into Gideon’s field of vision, to the side of the bed. 

Harrow took it all in. How Gideon’s eyes widened in disbelief. The sharp intake of breath that left her mouth opened slightly. The fresh sound from the chain as Gideon strained against it and another sound that could have been a garbled“oh fuck , Harrow.” or could have just been a groan. Gideon’s knuckles turned white from the force with which she held onto the chain. 

Harrow took it in but deigned it no reaction. Instead, she proceeded to casually rearrange several pillows into a back rest, which she then propped herself against, her legs crossed at the ankles. Were it not for the circumstances, it would not have been strange had she produced a book from somewhere and started to read it. 

As it were though, no book appeared. No, Harrow settled the weight of her focus again on Gideon, who had recovered from the initial shock, was thus caught ogling and shamefully looked away.

This did not please Harrow and she said: “Don’t look away.”

Her gaze returned, with gratitude. As if Harrow had led her to a clear mountain spring after three days of thirsting.

“You know, Griddle,”, she started conversationally, “I have to admit I still don’t see the appeal your lewd magazines have on you. Their base nature is not my problem with them, you see. But the prose is dreadfully sub-par and the plotlines are so predictable I might as well have known them before looking at the first page.”

As she related this to Gideon, Harrow started to play with her own hands, tracing the lines on her palms or over each knuckle, inspecting her nails for dirt that was not there.

“I can’t fault the artwork for its lack of subtlety, I suppose. Not when I have you strung up like this for myself. And yes, don’t be so surprised I perused some of them. You keep them lying around quite freely. ”

Gideon sighed quietly when Harrow leaned back further into the pillows. That must have been the moment when she realized that it would be a long time yet before she would get to touch Harrow tonight.

“I apologize for rambling, Griddle, what I am trying to relay to you is this: Despite me not sharing the sentiment, your magazines are yours to enjoy. I would not think of taking them from you. However, you have been so good for me last time and besides that, it is simply my wish to offer alternative.”

Harrow drew the last word out somewhat, and while she said it, uncrossed her ankles. 

A quick motion of running a hand through her hair to get it out of her face and then her hands settled on the silk sash that held her robe closed. 

She undid the knot without a rush and let herself enjoy the feeling of the fabric dancing over her skin as she splayed it open.

Harrow had done her homework and so the whine from Gideon at the sight of what was revealed did not surprise her. It certainly satisfied her, though. 

Slowly, Harrow laid her head back against a pillow, with her jugular thus exposed, she ran the tips of two fingers from under her chin, down her neck and sternum, over the flat expanse of her stomach until she reached the band of her panties, where she let that hand come to rest for now. 

She did not need to look at Gideon to know her eyes had tagged along for the whole journey. 

Harrow’s other hand was needed elsewhere, meanwhile. Somewhat embarrassingly for Harrow, it only took her nipples the barest hint of her fingertips for them to stiffen against the lace and see-through mesh of her bra. That wasn’t enough for her however and so she roughly palmed one breast, pinching its peak between index and middle finger as she roamed over the tender flesh, letting a moan spill from her lips as she did so. 

Harrow looked up when she heard Gideon gasp, whether from the display before her on the bed or the noise Harrow had emitted was unclear. 

The chain trailing down Gideon’s front was swaying ever so slightly, she couldn’t obviously couldn’t keep still.

Harrow met her gaze and while she paid attention to her other breast, said. calmly: “We are different in another aspect, you and I. Don’t misunderstand me, this makes me in no way better than you, but pornography -no matter the medium- never did anything for me.”

She paused briefly, when a particularly hard pinch made her bite at her own bottom lip.

“When you’re away or asleep and I need release…”

Harrow’s other hand, the one that had waited for its turn on her hip bone, now joined the proceedings as well. She used it to hold the fabric of the panties to the side and with her legs spreading further, showed her ready slickness to Gideon.

“...all I think about are your hands and lips.”

The next moan, they shared. Harrow’s came from the feeling of a finger gliding over her folds and inside herself. And Gideon’s from watching Harrow do so.

She heard the rattle of the chains again as Gideon leaned into them, she kept shifting and tensing, her only means of interaction with Harrow was the midday sun heat of her stare. 

Soon, the one finger was joined by a second one and the pace Harrow set for herself was agonizingly slow. Not for herself, not at all, but for Gideon, who was at this point reduced to panting.

Occasionally, Harrow pulled out completely to circle her clit before thrusting back inside and gradually, she felt an orgasm building. After a dozen more strokes, her toes curling already in anticipation, it threatened to overtake her. 

Before it could. Harrow stopped her movements, took away her hand. Her hips bucked once or twice, trying to chase after something that was no longer there. 

Harrow stayed silent, busy with catching her breath. Gideon whined for her. 

“Hush, when I come is not for you to decide.” 

When she had regained control of herself, Harrow tied her robe closed again, got up from the bed and walked over to Gideon.

A flush had spread over her freckled, golden skin. Deepening its color beautifully. Harrow gently placed a hand on Gideon’s cheek, who leaned into it readily. Craving any amount of touch that was offered to her. 

“I hope you liked your surprise...are you alright, beloved?” Harrow saw that Gideon was still holding onto the chain with both hands, but she needed to be sure. 

A nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes...yes. Green.”

“Good. I’d like us both to calm down somewhat before we continue. Would you like to wait as you are or have me give you something to tide you over? Think about it before you answer.”

Gideon thought. Harrow waited.

“I want it...please.”

She received a light stroke through her hair for her good manners. Then Harrow turned to the black box once more and retrieved a pair of nipple clamps. Gideon knew those already, her eyes widened hungrily at the sight of them, the tips capped in black rubber and linked by -what else- a thin silver chain. Harrow stepped close again. Appreciatively, she drew long caresses with her free hand over Gideon’s rippling abs, then up to cup first one breast, then the other. Gideon held herself straight through this, her posture again impeccable. 

She didn’t waver even when Harrow placed a single kiss on her sternum, and applied the first clamp. She drew back to place the second one. Still no sound from Gideon, but if her heavy exhales and half-lidded eyes were anything to judge by, she was not unaffected.

“I will be back soon, beloved. If you can hold out for me until then, you will get to touch and you will get to find your own release. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Harrow.”, Gideon said, her eyes now closed tightly as she dealt with the feeling of the clamps. They weren’t very tight. Harrow had picked them that way, so they could stay on longer.

“Good girl.”, she said. And meant it. And loved the way Gideon’s thighs quivered ever so slightly at the words.

With that, Harrow left the room, kept the door open and took the stairs down to the kitchen. She would hear Gideon if anything happened. They had tested this beforehand. 

Three deep breaths and she had calmed herself enough to prepare a mild cup of lapsang souchong. She liked this ritual, she did not always leave Gideon waiting. But when it was part of their play, Harrow liked the contrast of her hands going through the calm motions of making a cup of tea all the while her mind was on fire with the image of Gideon in her restraints. Her perfect body, her trusting, amber eyes. The devotion in it that Harrow was never sure she really deserved. 

Harrow sat down by the dining table. She waited for her tea to reach drinking temperature. Which always seemed to take too long and not long enough. Then she drank it. Not hastily. It had been too expensive not to savor its taste with each sip, which was specifically the reason why she used it for this and not her everyday blend. When the cup was empty, she stood back up, put it in the sink and went back upstairs to take care of her girlfriend.

The sight that presented itself to Harrow was breathtaking. Gideon had not calmed down. Harrow could not truly fault her for that as she herself hadn’t done so either, not really.

She’d worked herself into a lather, she shone with sweat as if she’d done a hundred push ups. Her eyes were still closed. In intervals, a shiver or tremble would run through her, or she would jerk her hips against the chain tantalizingly dangling between her legs. It would then catch slightly on the other, much thinner chain hanging horizontally from nipple to nipple, making her only more desperate.

Harrow could smell her arousal, and see it too as she came closer, the insides of her thighs were glistening from it. Carefully, Harrow made contact by cupping Gideon’s cheeks in both hands. That seemed to ground her, at least somewhat, her eyes opened and with a rasping voice that made something deep in Harrow ache with longing said: “Harrow...please.”

One time, Harrow had made her wait much longer -checking up on her in intervals, though- she’d wanted to see where Gideon’s limit was. Amazingly, it had been at over three hours and even more amazingly, Gideon had climaxed violently after the wait, despite Harrow never even laying a single finger on her. A murmured “Will you come for me now?” had been enough.

Harrow did not want that tonight however. She craved contact.

“Thank you for waiting so patiently for me. You’ve done very well.”

She came close and leaned up, on instinct, Gideon tilted her own head down to meet her halfway. Considering everything Harrow had subjected Gideon to, the kiss was still well coordinated. It was hungry too and Harrow knew just the thing to sate that hunger. 

She broke away from Gideon’s mouth toward her jawline, laying out a string of kisses there to distract her from the moment she carefully took away the nipple clamps. There was still a jolt and a cry from the other woman at the sudden change in sensation but she recovered from it.

“I will undo your restraints now so that you can collect your reward afterwards. You may relax your posture but keep still otherwise until I tell you to do something else. Say so if that is not possible for you at any point.”

It had not been a question so Gideon only offered another nod. 

Harrow bent to unhook the end of the chain from one tether and slowly let it glide through her hand, one of Gideon’s arms coming down as she did so. The other followed after. Gideon wobbled once on her feet but then stood steady. 

She rather liked the look of the chain still looped around Gideon’s wrists, with the rest pooled by her feet, so she did not take it off completely quite yet. Neither did she take off the collar.

“On your knees.”

Harrow sat down on the edge of the mattress before Gideon, who had followed her command with new clink clink clinking.

“You may let go of the chain in your hands now.”

And then, in a softer tone:

“Come closer, I want your mouth on me.”

Gideon did not need to be told twice, she closed the distance and as if unwrapping a present, guided Harrow’s legs apart so she could sit between them. Similarly, she used one hand to hold the -now soaked- fabric of her panties to the side, much like Harrow herself had done earlier. 

One last look upwards, to make sure she would not be told off at the last moment, and when she found only desire in Harrow’s eyes, Gideon set her lips to Harrow’s cunt. 

Resisting the urge to come earlier paid off for Harrow now, all her nerves were still tuned to receive and Gideon expertly lapping at her set them off like fireworks. She greedily canted her hips for more and Gideon delivered, she dragged the flat of her hot, wet tongue from entrance to clit, again and again until Harrow could do nothing but lay herself down on the bed fully and writhe and moan and tell Gideon to never stop. 

Gideon certainly did not stop, instead she focused on circling Harrow’s clit. She gave a groan in gratitude when Harrow’s fingers tangled in her hair, adding the vibration of it to her ministrations.

What made Harrow come in the end was that, and the whisper of the chain up her leg when Gideon needed to use one hand to hold her hips down.

Liquid warmth spread through her from her center to the tips of her fingers and toes and Gideon worked her all the way through it until Harrow had to nudge her away, before she’d get oversensitive. 

Harrow gave herself only as much time to come down from it as she strictly needed before tugging at Gideon’s collar.

“Come up here.”

Gideon crawled up into the bed and let herself be guided onto her back. She whimpered when Harrow’s hand found her aching core, she helplessly clenched around nothing as Harrow teased at her entrance.

“Please Harrow, no more. I...mmmh..I can’t.”

Harrow let the broken rule slide and showed mercy. 

Two fingers curling inside her and an even rhythm and Gideon was starting to dissolve into her component parts under Harrow. It didn’t take long at all.

Her release always took her so forcefully, she tightened around Harrow’s fingers, pawed and gripped at the sheets and sobbed in relief as she rode it out. Harrow thought she had never seen anything as beautiful before, just like she always thought when she saw it happen. 

Finally, Gideon slumped down, utterly spent. She barely moved as Harrow removed the chains around her wrists and the collar. She made the smallest sound when Harrow got up.

“I’ll be gone for less than one minute.”, she placated her. 

First, Harrow spread a blanket over her, then she hurried to get Gideon a glass of water and a hot water bottle. For someone who generated so much body heat normally, Gideon tended to get cold after their sessions. Harrow removed the black box from the night stand, set the water in its place and slipped under the covers. Gideon curled up close.

Harrow liked the next part as well. She would place a hundred kisses on each of Gideon’s abused wrists, scritch her scalp and say her praise and wait for her girlfriend to come back from her quiet place. 

She couldn’t wait for next Wednesday.