A Haunted House of Mirrors

With the blindfold on, she had to guess the sensation across her hardened nipples. It was too cold and unforgiving to be her girlfriend's nimble fingers. Demanding metal caressed the gentle curve under her breast.

One after the other, she felt a sharp bite at the tips of soft, erect flesh. A chain dangled loosely at her bellybutton. Ivy seated herself in stillness, waiting. This is what she'd come for.

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Later, she would remember the mirrors. It was a house full of them. She could see herself in every direction. She came from every angle, every version. The ones she loved. The ones she avoided. But all of them were her. Every reflection was a promise, a warning, a self she could not ignore.

Tight green pants pressed into her hips, her crop top revealing the gentle swell from pant to midriff. Her favorite plant-based pleather jacket kept the cool autumn air away. It felt warm and constricting and slightly claustrophobic on her shoulders right now.

Harley had texted her to meet at midnight. The place was long closed. No kids or vendors hawking popcorn or cotton candy. Just quiet. Even so, the salt of the sea carried in on the night air, sharper under the full moon rising outside.

She continued deeper into the hall of mirrors. Her phone read as "12:08" with no service inside the concrete building.

"She'll be here," Ivy murmured. "She always is."

Quiet settled. Only moist breath and bootsteps echoed across the silver surfaces. Her ears hunted for girlish giggles or chains scraping the floor.

Nothing.

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Ivy's wrists were secured behind a wooden chair, firm but careful. A warm hand curved around her jaw before a black ball gag parted her lips.

"Breathe," Harley murmured.

They were in the heart of the maze. Blue, pink, and green blurs fractured around her as the maze held its thousand reflections. Then silk slid over her eyes. Darkness returned like a lover.

Ivy breathed in the sweet scent of bubblegum deeply, savoring the trailing sweetness. The chain at her chest trembled with each breath.

Suddenly, Ivy heard the scratchy record of nylon fabric brushing near her skin. The nipple clamps sent an unforgiving, steely trill through her. Ivy slackened her mouth around the ball, but she refused to let a gasp escape her. Her toes curled inwards inside of her boots.

"My little chickpea. I thought we could do something special tonight," she squeaked. Harley's birdsong voice continued pitching with each syllable. "I got a little treat in store for us tonight," she purred, "but I want you to beg me for it."

Harley took off the gag and shoved her thumb into her mouth. Tongue met the hard surface greedily, like a hungry baby demanding more of mother's milk. Ivy could feel Harley's smile in the way she pressed her thumb deeper into her mouth.

Bare legs wrapped around her in the chair, and she could feel the weight of her girlfriend on her thighs as Harley straddled her. Her head was yanked backwards by Harley's free hand. Deep red hair that shone like garnets when in the sun was grabbed by the fistful at the back of her neck.

A sigh escaped her at last. The hand at her mouth slid down to the base of her neck. Harley's hips started grinding on top of her. Moisture was gathering in her tight, vine embroidered pants. Minutes passed with hands caught in Ivy's hair, pulling needily. They took turns exchanging deep, soft groans that would creep out between their locked lips.

A smooth, wet tip of tongue caressed each open crack and crevice on her ears and neck. Ivy nibbled on each bubblegum bit that passed by her, searching for more each time.

"What's your treat? Is it this torture? Or does it vibrate?" Ivy caved in at last.

A gasp from the woman on top of her. She felt a hand cup around her breast and squeeze. "It's a warmup. What I have for you is pink and tentacle-y. The best part is though- is that it's eco-friendly."

Harley jumped off as graceful as a cat. Fleshy, warm thighs left cold shadows where they had once been pressed. Ivy's pants were down around her ankles in a swift, hot tug of motion. Warm hands pushed her knees further apart as she felt a cold object spread across her outer and inner lips. It moved up and down, nodding its arm yes and no.

"It's glass."

"You're so thoughtful, pumpkin," she said, voice breaking. Harley bit down on the inside of her thigh. "No, babe, seriously. Fuck plastic. I want you to fuck me."

Harley brought the hot pink glass dildo up to her face. All Ivy could feel was a cold, deeply textured object asking to be sucked on. It slapped at the edge of her mouth. Ivy's tongue stroked at the circular muscles.

"That's a good girl," Harley murmurs. "You look so fucking perfect right now I just want to put you into a pie and eat you."

Ivy deepens her efforts. It swishes in her mouth, covered in saliva, and then suddenly she can feel Harley's lips against hers. The tentacle is pushed up against between her legs. Their lips locked, warm squishy fingers meet flesh while the dildo points its way towards her inner sanctum.

The pressure releases from her thighs, and she can hear Harley panting in short, hot breaths. Ivy is still strapped to the chair, hands bound behind the back and legs to the legs of the chair, blindfold on. She stretches her knees against the confines around her. The dull pain aches against her ankles and shoulders. The pull of pressure adds to her pleasure.

Suddenly, Ivy feels a tug on both her nipples as the tentacle starts to deepen its way inwards. The chain between her breasts tugged and taut, Harley's spare hand began gently pulsing the neon pink object between her girlfriend's pink sweet spot.

The crescendo of moaning grew from the chair as Harley sunk her head between her legs.

Ivy knew her nipples had never been so hard in her life. The tentacle wormed its way slowly thrumming inside of her. The combination of Harley's mouth against her clit had her whole body feeling like she was hanging by ropes above a pit of lava. It killed her she couldn't reach back and grab those pigtails. The wood of the chair creaked as she pressed against her bindings, only growing the excitement.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck, babe" Ivy threw her head back, jaw tightening. The tentacle was thrust deeper insider her, steady as a boat rocking in the ocean.

"Can you say, 'you're the best girlfriend in the world,' for me, Pumpkin?" Harley begged.

Ivy felt warm hands caressing her stomach and lifting at her mound. Harley started gently sucking at where the tentacle met the swelling flesh. Those deep, gentle thrusts grew into a paced motion matching Harley's tongue.

"You're the only one who gets to do this to me," Ivy whispered, voice wrecked but steady.

Harley grabbed the trimmed, ruby bush and pushed upwards towards the dangling chain. Her thumb lengthened access to the licking area as she ran her mouth over it. The tentacle came to a moment of stillness inside of her.

Searching fingers crawled towards her pine green butthole. Ivy didn't know how Harley was managing her finger gymnastics. She hadn't seen this trick before.

One hand remained massaging her mound and another slid one wet finger into her ass. The tentacle started its rhythmic motion again. The chair wasn't the only thing groaning louder at this point.

Ivy's hot pants of breath were getting shorter as she clenched her jaw back. Harley started a low hum into her. The crescendo of the texture inside of her with the hand movements came to a scream.

Ivy released all her tension and desire through her moans. Her stomach convulsed. Muscles gripped the tentacle inside of her as Harley kept thrusting.

The moans turned into hot breath again, pushing columns of swirling air into the moist night.

Harley removed the blindfold.

Ivy soaked in the sight of ivory legs and the swell of breast caught tightly in a tank top. Her girlfriend was gorgeous, and she could only imagine being able to use this new toy on her later.

She glanced behind her in the mirror to see the hourglass shape and hint of ass peeking out as Harley leaned over to kiss her neck. Harley hovered there, breathing steadily, before lifting her head up to kiss her on the forehead.

The heart of the maze was a circle of mirrors, and she could see every angle of them together. The sight of them was more than enough to spread warmth across her lower belly.

There were more wet kisses, more gentle sucking and petting. Ivy watched it all happening in the mirrors. She saw herself undone. Messy, loose hair, mouth parted, and eyes shining. She felt her heavy head roll back as she looked up at the empty ceiling.

Ivy was a fountain of wetness, a hot spring among the Devil's landscape.

The pressure built in layers. It came through in a metal tug, a warm mouth, and slow insistence until her body stopped belonging to individual parts and became only sensation.

In the mirror, she watched herself arch. She watched a version of her, one she once feared, begin to dissolve.

"Look at you," Harley breathed, not cruel. Reverent.

Their eyes locked in a deep gaze for a moment of stillness. Nothing else existed outside of the room. Ivy felt it then. Not domination. Devotion.

Slowly, her fingers slid into her. Deep, long strokes. Ivy sucked in air between her teeth. Their eyes remained locked.

Harley gripped at her bare thigh, nails biting into the tender flesh. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration as spry fingers strummed along her clit. The eye contact between them was positively electric. Sparks fell like fireworks along the length of mirrors.

"I want to savor this moment with you," Harley said, before dipping her head between her legs.

The second wave didn't crash. It rose slowly, like a tide reclaiming shore.

Ivy didn't arch this time. She melted.

Her body loosened like a knot finally undone. Every reflection showed her soft open mouth, wet eyes, and cheeks flushed with the surrender she no longer tried to hide. Harley's hands, steady at her hips, guided her through the ache.

"That's it," Harley whispered, almost reverent. "Stay with me."

Their foreheads touched. The world narrowed to shared breath. Harley gently moaned in her ear longingly.

When it came, it wasn't sharp. It was consuming. A slow unraveling from spine to throat. Ivy's knees trembled against the bindings, but she didn't strain this time. She let herself fall into it.

She let herself be held inside it.

Harley didn't rush her. She stayed there, mouth gentle, hands anchoring, watching Ivy come back to herself in the mirrors.

"You're beautiful."

And for the first time, in every direction, Ivy believed it.