Boldly hiding her nervousness, Harrow rang the doorbell and patiently awaited for the owner of the house to open the door. She experienced a state that could be compared to having a pack of misbehaving squirrels doing backflips inside her stomach for the entire day, and thankfully, hearing the footsteps approaching started to calm them down. At least those backflips were more due to excitement and anticipation than anything else.
Before agreeing to meeting her potential date for the second time to negotiate the details, Harrow casually interrogated Palamedes about this Gideon he apparently knew well and was good friends with, and that he never thought to tell Harrow about. Sextus patiently answered her paranoid inquiries, she learned a whole bunch of completely useless, but placatingly innocent stuff and was ultimately assured that if anything goes wrong, Palamedes will avenge her death as soon as possible. ("Nonagesimus, there is really no need to dramatize it like that. Gideon is a harmless dork and a softie," were the words of assurance from him, and never hearing words like "dork" or "softie" from Palamedes before, Harrow had no other option but to believe he had a reason to use them sincerely.) The meeting itself (or date, as Gideon put it) went... better than Harrow expected. Even though the most substantial memory Harrow carried out of it was about Gideon's eyes lit with golden fire and one corner of her mouth constantly moving up as she cracked her hideous jokes at her.
The door opened, and it was like the memories stepped out of her brain to meet her, which, well, was quite literally the thing.
"Hey, sweetheart," Gideon grinned at her widely and invited her to her house with a courteous gesture.
Harrow followed the invitation silently and, once she recollected herself from the brightness of Gideon's cat-like eyes, was stunned with another view. Gideon greeted her wearing baggy cargo pants, heavy combat boots and a simple black tanktop exposing her bare, extremely muscular arms. Harrow's overanalytical brain quickly estimated that she couldn't lock her fingers around Gideon's forearm, and much less so - around her bicep.
There was an entry in Harrow's brain of Gideon mentioning that she worked as a blacksmith full time (neat), and attended fencing classes in free time (hot), but somehow that didn't prepare Harrow to see these activities so clearly expressed in Gideon's tall, stately physique. She looked like she did heavy lifting for fun and did pushups with girls sitting on her back just to impress them. Her eyes followed Harrow's dark gaze glued to the shape and curve of her shoulders and arms, and Gideon winked and flexed an arm at her knowingly.
In other words, Harrow needed a moment.
"You sure about make up?" Gideon asked in the meanwhile, keeping her tone playful, emboldened by Harrow's immediate, bodily interest in her. "It's gonna get ruined."
Black eyes darted to Gideon's amber ones sharply.
"Is that not the plan, Gideon?" Harrow asked, narrowing her pretty eyes. She did go easier on make up this time after lengthy consideration - nothing like her usual warpaint, only eyeliner and lipstick.
"Oooh, okay, we're going this like that, I like it," Gideon stammered in response, getting agitated. There was something inherently provocative in Harrow's attitude, in her snarky remarks and sharp tongue, that made Gideon want to needle at her and find out where this goth nun would give in, or worse, find out where she, Gideon, would do the same.
There was a moment of silence loaded with tension between them, standing together in the hallway that Harrow did not bother examining. Gideon crossed arms on her chest, towering over Harrow, her slanted grin softened by the warm expression in her eyes, lit with patient awaiting for the cue. Harrow was very glad that she insisted on Gideon ditching her aviators for the entirety of the session. She recalled her safeword and forced herself to calm down. Then, after a considerable pause, she finally said:
"To the floor."
Gideon lurched towards her instantly, uncoiling from her relaxed position and colliding with Harrow bodily. The movement was so quick that it felt as if Gideon simply teleported to her, her arms grabbing Harrow by sides and turning her around. From there, she gripped Harrow's wrists, and Harrow, struggling to break free, realized with a rush of adrenaline that no matter how she pulled and twisted her hands, she simply could not move them. An image from memory: Gideon's fingers cautiously holding the rim of a soda can; an explanation: her enormous strength prompting her to be delicate then. She was not delicate in this moment with Harrow, battling her attempts to resist with implacable steadiness of an industrial press machine, forcing her to bend her elbows and putting her small, stubbornly balled into fists hands against the stomach, wrists crossed together. Harrow was utterly helpless to stop this advance when Gideon, satisfied with her hold on her, yanked her close, back to chest, and pressed her mouth to Harrow's neck with an excited wet exhale.
The whole maneuver took mere seconds, it was embarrassing: Harrow did want a takedown, but the execution where she barely put up any fight wasn't how she imagined it, and so she tried again, pissed off. Gideon did not mind, inexorable in the face of Harrow's continuous struggle to break free, making Harrow feel even smaller in her hands, surrounded. She writhed and lurched her body in any direction that gave an illusion of an escape, trying to find a steadier footing and swerve out of Gideon's hands like a hagfish caught between rocks. Given an opportunity, she even elbowed Gideon under the ribs (it impressed Gideon to no end: she thought that if only Harrow had more strength in her non-existent muscles, that sharp elbow would stab her squarely in the spleen and cause some serious damage). But in the end, the harder Harrow struggled, the harder Gideon gripped her as Harrow tried to find some sort of leverage against Gideon's firm, immovable frame which resulted only pressing closer to her, adhering them together in an exothermic chemical reaction.
Gideon calmly let Harrow go wild until the smaller woman was exhausted, admiring the violence of Harrow's attempts to break free. It was as if Harrow wasn't concerned with the strength disparity at all, and there was a very healthy suspicion that the moment Gideon gave in just a tiny bit, Harrow would try to twist out of her grip and bite her on the way out several times, possibly giving her rabies in the process. Feeling all the sharp angles of Harrow's almost weightless body against her chest, Gideon got pinpricks of excitement run over her skin. She half-expected Harrow to make small talk, was prepared to have a cup of tea before beginning the show, when Harrow dropped the cue and Gideon had to act on it, so unwilling to disappoint her with hesitation.
They only just had started, and both were already out of breath from each other.
She moved one hand to hold both Harrow's wrists together (Harrow immediately made a weak try against it, and Gideon loudly huffed a laugh into her ear - she didn't even break a sweat yet), and let her freed hand roam over Harrow's stomach and chest.
Harrow watched that long-fingered palm roughly go over her chest, grabbing at her shirt and bra under it, and in the same moment she felt Gideon's knee pushing between her thighs from behind. She made an indignant noise, too paralyzed with wild rush of adrenaline to move, only her legs twitching to move together and close, useless.
"Easy as shit, Harrow," Gideon whispered into her ear hotly, numerous metallic rings adorning it touching the redhead's lips with tiny specks of cold.
Harrow prepared some remark, tensing with her entire body and straining her hands as she tried out Gideon's grip on her wrists, and Gideon readily cut her off. She pressed her hand to Harrow's lower belly, shortly sliding over the skin bared between the shirt and her pants, and dragged down between Harrow's legs in a gesture of deliberate possessiveness. The touch made Harrow stand up on her toes as no other direction of movement was free for her, but it did shit anyway: Gideon just palmed her inner thighs and went over the crotch with played nonchalance, her other hand keeping Harrow's convulsions at bay. She ended up with her head lolling to the side, almost as if resting it on Gideon's shoulder, stunned with realization that this was enough to make her blood rush to her lower regions.
Listening to Harrow's strained breath attentively and battling with the sheer glee she felt from overpowering Harrow while still having an impression that this wasn't an easy fight, Gideon took a brief pause in her endeavors. This was a crucial moment, to let Harrow immerse in the situation and decide for herself if she wanted out, and it was up to Gideon to provide this window before escalating. She kept her hold on Harrow's wrists steady and left her free hand to think for itself as it traveled up under Harrow's shirt, inching fingers under her bra with clear intent.
Slow and easy, Gideon reminded herself, this was this goth nun's first time.
"Disappointing," Harrow rasped, looking up with her head on Gideon's shoulder, "if that's how intense and interesting it gets, I think I'll be better off studying."
Wow, that was just insulting.
"Pfft- We just started, Harrow, hold your skeleton horses," Gideon laughed. The remark stung, and she gave in to the provocation, shoving Harrow's bra up and palming her small breast in her hand. That gave her the incredible feeling of Harrow shivering with her whole body against her, and she quickly followed the impulse to move her hand down and unceremoniously shove it down Harrow's pants.
"I said," Harrow's voice was shaky but it was unclear if it was because she had Gideon's hand in her panties or because she was concentrating on sounding as bitchy as possible, "to the floor."
Gideon waited a second, admiring how Harrow, riled up, attempted to ride her knee. She grinned:
"To the floor it is."
Harrow had some time to examine Gideon's living room now.
She had a good guess that the main bulk of the furniture wasn't supposed to be cramped in just one corner miserably and was moved out of the way of the action. Otherwise it would have been really dumb, in Harrow's opinion, to keep coffee table, the sofa and the chairs so untastefully glued to the desk with the gaming console and the TV. There were things that didn't seem out of place and that she could note from her position: shelves with what looked like an impressive collection of comic books (she couldn't help but sneer at that), glass displays full of action figures, and arrays of swords, daggers and some intricate metallic decorations with unclear purpose fixed on the walls. She wondered briefly if those were Gideon's own works.
But mostly she was simmering in a weird mix of anger, embarrassment, arousal and anger and embarrassment due to arousal.
A suspiciously looking hook on the ceiling caught her eye, right above her, and Harrow deduced that it wasn't really a hook for lamps.
She shivered, imagining she was freezing: her brain connected "naked" and "on the floor" together and sent her body signals to anticipate cold drafts, even though Gideon's house apparently had some amazing insulation and decent heating. Calming herself down, she tried the leather cuffs on her hands (tough luck), and her ankles (even tougher luck, even though she kind of could draw her knees together), noting that nothing else was straining her body and it wasn't even that uncomfortable, that there wasn't anyone even looking at her in the moment.
It helped a little. Then she got pissed again that Gideon really just dragged her to the living room, put her on the floor, undressed her with alarming efficiency and then freaking cuffed her arms and legs to huge metal rings just casually embedded between parquet planks ("They're removable," Gideon explained it to her while battling with Harrow's attempts to kick her right into that lopsided grin), and freaking left her here ("Shit, I forgot the lube and other stuff. I'll be right back, babe," Gideon said then while Harrow was drilling her with eyes full of melting rage at her). Fucking audacity of that woman. Harrow was mentally preparing the list of insults and complaints for the moment when Gideon returned - what was even taking her so long? - and-
The sound of heavy combat boots stomping on the wooden floor suddenly made Harrow flinch in the cuffs.
"Kept you waiting, huh?"
The owner of these stupid boots approached Harrow, naked on the floor, hands cuffed above her head, legs spread apart and cuffed at her ankles. Harrow watched as she placed the bottle of lube onto the floor next to her, the other stuff - vibrator head of a classic magic wand - sticking out of one of the side pockets of her cargo pants. Gideon had a face of a cat preparing to play with a mouse, her yellow eyes lit with eager anticipation, and Harrow felt so small compared to her, again, even smaller than before, at complete mercy of a woman who threatened her with good time. Sweat pored on her forehead, and Harrow felt her heart beating in her throat, and at the same time - heat pulsing in her cunt in sync with it.
Knowing well the effect of her appearance from this particular angle, Gideon deliberately made a full circle around Harrow, stopped near Harrow's middle and then demonstratively stepped over her, looking down directly at Harrow's face. Her feet placed on the floor by Harrow's sides, she watched with deep satisfaction how Harrow's obsidian eyes widened and went up. Harrow's breaths deepened as she stopped her gaze at the boots first, then traveled higher as she was hit with the realization that it was naked and incapacitated her versus fully clothed and unrestrained Gideon. Gideon made sure that in the end of her journey up Harrow was met with her the most on-brand shit-eating grin.
Looking her in the eyes, Harrow visibly shuddered again and had to bite her lower lip, small white teeth bothering her painted black mouth.
"Gotta admit, you look hella cute," Gideon could not resist saying out loud. She loved it when she could rile up a woman like that without even touching her.
She half-expected Harrow to hiss something snarky in response, but instead, Harrow sucked a deep breath in, her eyes turning slightly glassy. Gideon felt an electric jolt of satisfaction rushing through her already - Harrow was getting into it, and she couldn't wait to put her hands onto this frail, slender body and mold it like clay and drive Harrow absolutely insane.
Gideon knelt on the floor, straddling her and reaching out her hand to cup Harrow's cheek. Harrow was biting her lower lip so hard that it must have hurt, so Gideon could not help herself, brushing her thumb on it gently, urging her to unclench her jaw a little and smearing the black lipstick on her chin at the same time. Harrow's eyes were black holes, irises and pupils of the same shade of abyssal void, indistinguishable, it was hard to tell her immediate reaction to the touch just by looking into them. But she was twitchy and fretful under Gideon, her lower lip trembling slightly under Gideon's thumb as she let out a shaky exhale, her ribcage strained between Gideon's thighs. Letting the weight of her body press Harrow down just a little harder than necessary, Gideon took her face in both hands, looking directly at her, and then dragged her hands down Harrow's neck and bare chest.
She could count Harrow's rips with her fingers as she went over her sides, subtly checking if Harrow was ticklish (she wasn't - a shame), then returned them up to knead her breasts. They were small, each completely covered by Gideon's large palms. Gideon squeezed and rubbed them, feeling Harrow's nipples hardening under her hands, and then pinched and pulled the nipples with her fingers.
Harrow attempted to arch her spine, her body rising up after Gideon's hands, but she was pressed down to the floor, Gideon's mass and heat grounding her and holding in place even better than the cuffs on her limbs. She strained her wrists, the natural response to an intimate touch - Gideon was really, really good with her long fingers dancing on her chest, playing with nipples and finding sensitive places on the sides of her boobs and clavicles and neck, - hindered by the cuffs, preventing her from reflexively reaching out to put her arms around Gideon's broad shoulders. It was maddening. She was aflame with desire to fight against the restraints, and yet the very fact that she was demoted to a passive role to merely receive that igniting touch only fanned those fires harder. Gideon above her looked at her with intense focus, pupils wide and rimmed with warm gold, jaw jutted forward, and even that habitual curve of her mouth looked more concentrated rather than mocking. A stray lock of her red hair was falling over her eyes, and she kept shaking it off, unwilling to take a hand off Harrow to tuck it in place even just for a second.
One of Gideon's hand ended up sliding up her neck again, fingertips following the line of her jaw angle, brushing delicately over her sharp chin, thumb going over that worried with teeth lower lip once more and leaving more black lipstick stains on Harrow's cheeks. She pressed the thumb between Harrow's lips next, and surprised, Harrow parted them for her with a noise, letting Gideon push her finger into her mouth and brush it against the upper row of her sharp teeth and her hot and wet tongue. Harrow, being the good and obedient girl, wrapped her lips around Gideon's thumb and gave a half-hearted attempt at sucking on it, not due to the lack of enthusiasm, but rather because this was the moment when she started moaning under the pressure of Gideon's expert touch on her chest.
Gideon did not let her to get used to just that, moving herself off Harrow to sit on her knees between Harrow's legs. Her hands followed the motion, still on Harrow's body, blunt fingernails dragging down her chest and stomach all the way to the thighs, leaving quickly reddening trails behind and making Harrow emit a quiet, soft "Fuck" from the unexpected change in stimulation, screwing her eyes tight. Just as suddenly, Gideon switched again, rubbing her palms on Harrow's thighs in long, sensual motions. She patiently awaited until Harrow got over this minor sensory overload, her touch getting lighter as she inched her fingers closer to the inner areas of Harrow's legs, and prepared her best grin to the moment when Harrow could open her eyes again.
Upon doing that, Harrow was met with the sight of Gideon sitting on knees between her twitching legs, looming over her, looking her straight into eyes with the worst fucking smirk ever. Confirming that she got Harrow's attention, Gideon instantly dropped her gaze. Now she demonstratively watched her own hands pressed firmly against Harrow's inner thighs, thumbs swiping up the labia majora shortly and then spreading them apart. Harrow involuntarily tried to close her knees, to no use, not just naked now - exposed completely before Gideon's amber eyes devouring her whole.
She trembled, both from the way Gideon was watching her and the way she was touching her, short links between cuffs and metal rings shuffling with clink-clanking noise as she pulled her hands and legs. Gideon's long fingers kept her spread, giving Gideon an amazing view on her vulva - small, pink labia minora with the swelling nub of the clitoris already showing itself from between them, a shiny smear of lubrication already dripping from her opening. Quirking her eyebrow up, Gideon assertively brushed her thumbs up her cunt, catching a little bit of the lubrication and sliding on it easily, rubbing the clitoris between her fingers up and down several times, causing Harrow's involuntarily squirm up and down in sync with her motions.
Hearing a soft, barely audible "Ahh" of Harrow's exhale, Gideon looked up, shaking the hair out of her vision again. Harrow struggled to keep her head up to see how Gideon teased her, short black locks sticking to her forehead from sweat, mouth with half-ruined lipstick parted and curved in capricious expression of sheer want. Gideon smirked at her openly, pleased with these initial results, and decided it was time for something more thorough.
Next thing Harrow knew was the feeling of Gideon's fingers sliding up between her labia, slick with her own lubrication, fingertips brushing around her clit and rubbing it hard, at the same moment as Gideon pinched one of her nipples with her other hand. Though the trick itself wasn't anything mindblowing, the additional factors of her being unable to move freely, of Gideon watching her react with a full-body spasm gleefully, of knowing that Gideon could do that and so much more to her, they added to the intensity of sensations, turning up the heat going wild in Harrow's lower belly and making her gasp for air and try to rub herself on Gideon's fingers.
Gideon indulged her, circling her agile fingers around her clitoris and finding the patterns that made Harrow twitch and moan from stimulation.
"I like that you're so wet already," Gideon said huskily. "Eager," she added with one of her awful grins as she briefly brought her hand up in the air, demonstrating her fingers covered in the lubrication generously. Harrow felt an involuntary spasm in her cunt around nothing, longing to feel those long fingers inside her. If Gideon was even half as good with finding her G-spot as with her clit, then-
As if hearing her thoughts, Gideon nonchalantly reached for the bottle of lube and coated her fingers in it thoroughly, and then brought her fingers back to where Harrow needed them to be. She shuddered at the contact - a blob of lube touching her labia was still cool, Gideon was that quick to resume her fingerwork after this short hitch, - and felt instantly so much wetter as Gideon first spread the additional lubrication between her legs and then decisively pressed her finger into her, sliding into her cunt, nice and easy. Instantly hungry for more, the sole slender finger barely enough to bother all the receptors in her walls thirsty for friction and stretch, Harrow squeezed Gideon's finger hard, her whole body tense with chase for stimulation. It was like Gideon knew, sensing this hunger from the way corners of Harrow's mouth went down and her brows knit together in a frown, because immediately, Gideon switfly added another finger to glide in and out her and pressed her thumb to Harrow's clit so it wasn't left lonely and wanting.
Working her hand, Gideon watched how Harrow took her fingers, pushing her hips onto them, and had a moment to admire this tender, slick cunt that looked so lickable, making Gideon's mouth fill with drool whenever she felt Harrow shiver as her thumb flicked her clit. Harrow's ribs heaved under her palm, breaths ragged and interrupted every so often by a wheezing moan each time Gideon crooked her fingers inside Harrow and pressed the tips of her fingers against the anterior wall in circular motion. Harrow's sharp elbows and knees twitched, straining the cuffs and suggesting quite strongly that if not for restraints, Harrow would be going wild with her limbs now, and Gideon couldn't help but find it super cute - and maybe slightly dangerous. Harrow seemed like the type prone to scratching and biting, and- Okay, wow, stop, if Gideon got distracted by that right now, that would be a disaster.
In order to further divert herself from that line of thought, Gideon took her hand off Harrow's chest and retrieved from her pocket the least graceful, yet the most effective sex toy ever invented, the clunky and ugly white and blue magic wand.
"I had a moment of panic when I thought I forgot to charge it," Gideon said in response to Harrow's tense gaze following her hand with the vibrator. She waved it in the air, and snorted when Harrow's eyes darted after its motions like a cat's - after a laser pointer. "I imagine that would be pretty damn awkward to have a vibe dying mid session. Not that it has ever happened to me, I assure you," she added, trying too keep her tone playful because she wanted Harrow to relax again more than anything in the world.
To her surprise, Harrow scoffed. She zeroed on Gideon's face and said:
"I don't see a problem. You have perfectly functional hands and maybe too perfectly functional mouth. It would be easy for you to compensate for any sort of technical failure on the vibe's part."
The slight tremble in Harrow's voice and the fact that Gideon still had her vagina stuffed with fingers paradoxically only added to the impression of languid bitchiness Harrow obviously went for.
"Ho-ho," Gideon huffed an incredulous laugh, the kind that would make her lower her aviators to peer over them, but without them, she just sorta bulged her eyes and snorted on her own inhale. So uncool of her.
Harrow put her head down onto the floor, pretendingly comfortable, her hips still moving in short jerky pattern as she attempted to ride Gideon's fingers without being able to leverage herself on her feet properly. She looked so damn smug, with an acidic smirk on that mouth that no ruined lipstick could make less vicious, that Gideon again had a completely unnecessary image of Harrow dominating the fuck out of her.
Ah. Maybe some other day.
Gideon shook the thought away once again and took her fingers out of Harrow, regretting to lose the feeling of her hot and tight muscles, bringing Harrow's attention to it instantly. Harrow looked up like an alarmed bird and saw Gideon lifting the wand up like a rapier before a duel and flicking the switch on. Quiet sound of its motors coming to life filled the room.
Harrow watched Gideon scrambling up from her place between her legs and leaning forward. She thought Gideon was going to stand up, but was completely taken aback when instead, Gideon put her freaking knee onto Harrow's sternum and pressed her down. The firm leather of her boot felt rough against Harrow's bare skin on her stomach and side. Gideon balanced her weight very well, most of her body mass leaning onto her other leg peacefully planted on the floor next to Harrow, but the pressure on the chest that Harrow felt was very real and- and very exciting. She looked up straight into Gideon's face and her insanely yellow eyes, breath stuck in her throat, realizing again how she was at Gideon's complete mercy and getting frightened momentarily, but Gideon gave another lopsided smile, warm and reassuring and still so freaking punchable.
"Get wrecked, Harrow," Gideon said, towering over her. She put her hand behind her, pressing the head of the wand between Harrow's legs, right at the sweet spot where the vibrations rumbled through her clit back and forth, threatening to wring out a quick, involuntary orgasm out of her very soon.
Harrow writhed in the cuffs, tormented by the sheer delight of her sensations.
She felt very threatened and was having really good time.