Taming Kit Pt. 04- Kit's Pleasure

Author's Note:

This is Part 4 of Taming Kit, part of a larger ongoing work exploring themes of power, desire, emotional tension, and shifting dynamics between multiple characters. While this chapter contains explicit scenes, not every chapter will. The story is a slow burn with layered emotional development and psychological complexity, so each installment builds on the last.

⚠️ Content Warnings:

This chapter contains consensual BDSM, D/s dynamics, restraint, face-sitting, oral sex, voyeurism, and dirty talk. Themes of emotional manipulation, power struggles, and possessiveness are present throughout the story. Reader discretion is advised.

If you're just joining us, I recommend starting from Part 1- Lessons for Gia to fully experience the emotional arc of these characters. ????

Gia-

The sound of the door makes my eyes flutter open. I expected her to be gone.

But there she is.

Kit.

I blink, half in a dream, half still warm from the touch of her hands and the ache between my thighs. I didn't realize how much I wanted her to come back until she did.

She steps into the low light, every inch of her like a shadow dressed in sin.

The first thing I notice are her thighs. Strong. Defined. The kind of strength that comes from intention, not vanity.

There's power in the way she moves, like she owns the floor beneath her feet. The fishnet stockings she wears only emphasize the cut of her legs, every step a reminder of how she owned me earlier and made me hers.

Her stomach is flat, and toned. Not soft, but not carved into abs either. Just the kind of body that makes me ache to touch and explore.

The black bustier clings to her like it was stitched onto her skin. Over it, a lace bra frames her small breasts, the fabric doing little to hide what is underneath. I can see the slope of her nipples through the mesh, hard from the chill or maybe from the look she gives me--like she is about to ruin me all over again.

And her hair. Long, auburn waves spill down her back and over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that makes her look a little feral, and maybe a little divine.

She looks like temptation wrapped in confidence. Like something I should run from, but can't.

My breath catches. She's here for more.

And I want more.

Kit steps closer, her eyes scanning my face.

"I couldn't stay away," she whispers. Her voice is low and husky and sends shivers down my spine. There's a weight behind her words, like something has shifted in her.

She kneels beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek with the back of her hand. Her touch is soft, but there's a strength to it. The same strength that pressed me down and unraveled me earlier.

"Gia, I know you've had a long night," she says, her eyes searching mine, "so I need you to be honest with me."

Her thumb traces my bottom lip.

"Are you too tired? Or would you mind if we play some more?"

The answer is immediately on my tongue, but she quiets me before I can speak.

"I want you to know there is no wrong answer here. You don't owe me anything. I only want what you're willing to give."

I can't help but smile.

"I'd love to play more, Mistress."

Kit's answering smile is slow, dangerous, and deeply satisfied.

"Good," she says as her fingers curl around my jaw. "Because I'm not finished with you, yet."

Her kiss is hard, and deep. I can't keep myself from moaning into her mouth.

"Back on the bed sweet Gia. Arms up, legs spread. I want you right where I had you."

I don't hesitate. I stretch myself across the bed and offer myself to her without a word. There's something exhilarating about being bound, about surrendering every inch of myself to this powerful woman.

I love the sound of the buckles sliding home. The feel of the leather is hard against my skin. I love the way Kit handles me. She's firm, unhurried, and sure of herself. I shouldn't, but for some reason I've never felt safer... or more exposed.

Kit slowly runs her hands up my thighs and I shiver with anticipation. Her palms are warm and steady. Her thumbs brush beneath the edge of where the restraint meets my skin and she lingers there. Just long enough to make me squirm before leaning in close, her breath hot against my inner thigh.

"You look so fucking good like this," she murmurs, her voice low with want. It lands in my chest like a lightning strike. I ache to be used, to be the thing Kit wants, the thing that makes her lose control.

My mind races. Will she take it slow? Will she be rough? Will she freely give her praise or make me scream for it. I tremble, waiting, wanting everything she can give me.

I want to please her. I want to be good for her. I want to watch her as she comes undone.

Her fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin. She's deliberate, teasing, never quite touching the places I want her to touch the most.

"I could take my time" she says, almost to herself. "Make you beg." She drags her nails up the skin of my hips and over my stomach, pausing just before the swell of my breasts. My nipples harden for her.

She leans in low until her mouth is just above my ear "Would you like that sweet Gia? Want me to play nice, or make you scream?"

My heart stutters and I try to clench my thighs together but the blasted restrains keep my legs open.

Before I can even think, the words fall from my lips.

"I want your pleasure."

Kit pulls back just enough to look at me, and for a second her expression falters. Like I've said something unexpected.

"I want to give it to you," I add. "However you want it, however you need it."

And I mean it. I want to see her skin flush again. I want to watch her as she takes that pleasure from me. I want to be the reason she moans, the reason she comes.

Her lips twitch. She leans in and kisses me, softly at first, her mouth barely touching mine, like she's testing me.

Then her hand closes over my throat.

"Good girl," she whispers against my lips and it shoots straight through me.

Kit pulls back, just enough to slide her hand down my body slow and purposeful. Every inch is torture.

"You want to give me pleasure?" She says trailing her fingers over my clit. "Then be still and take everything I give you."

She moves fast after that. No more teasing.

Her movements are sure as she climbs on the bed and straddles my face. She rips the fishnet stockings covering her and moves her black lace panties to the side.

She's beautiful and slick. I can see that she's turned on. Her clit is swollen peaking from its hood. My mouth waters. I want to taste her.

She straddles my face. The fabric of her ruined stockings pressing against my face as she settles in. I inhale her. Spice, heat, power, and I moan without meaning to.

She grips the headboard above me, and lowers herself.

"Stick your tongue out for me. I'm going to fuck it."

I do, mouth open, tongue out, breath caught in my throat. Kit lowers herself onto my face, her thighs bracketing my head, hot and trembling with power.

She tastes like heat and something heady, like I could drown in her and die happy. She grinds against me, slow at first, letting me feel her. Letting me worship.

"Good girl," she purrs, breathless already. "Just like that. Let me use that pretty little mouth."

Her pace quickens. I moan into her cunt, the vibrations making her hips twitch. I can feel my own arousal dripping down my cunt, but all I care about is her.

Then she lifts, just slightly, grabbing the headboard for leverage.

"Now suck," she orders. "I want that pretty mouth locked around my clit like you're starving."

I do it without thinking. My lips close around her and I suck, softly at first, then harder as she cries out, her voice raw and filthy and full of need.

"That's it," she pants. "God, you're so good. You were made for this. Made to take me, to please me."

The door's open behind her, light spilling in from the hallway. I glance past her hips and see a shadow leaning there.

The same tall man from before.

My breath shudders.

He's watching. Silently. Intently. And when my eyes lock with his, something inside me flares hot and sharp.

Kit doesn't stop grinding. Doesn't even hesitate. She just smirks and reaches down, threading her fingers into my hair.

"Don't pay him any mind," she murmurs. "He likes to watch."

And then her voice drops low, dirty as sin.

"But I'm the one fucking your face."

She glides over my mouth, harder, faster, riding the rhythm she's wrung from me, her body shuddering as she chases the edge.

Her eyes flick back to the man just for just a moment. She locks eyes with him... and she smiles.

Triumphant.

Then she looks down at me, all fire and hunger, and her legs tighten around my cheeks as she buries her pussy on my face. I can barely breathe as she pulses against my lips. She fucks me harder, her pussy gliding against my face, and she comes. I can feel her muscles clench. She arches her back and rather than pulling away, she pushes herself further into my space, enveloping me, her wetness soaking my mouth, her thighs trembling around my face.

My thighs squeeze together involuntarily, aching for friction. I whimper against her, desperate and dripping, just from the taste of her surrender.

She collapses forward slowly, breath heavy, heart pounding against my cheek.

I should be exhausted. I should feel used, but all I feel is alive.

When I glance up again the man is still there. Still watching. Unmoving. Like he belongs in the dark.

My heart kicks into my chest as a thought slinks into my mind, hot and reckless:

What would it feel like to have both of them?

Her hands on my throat, his mouth between my legs.