The Jacket

By DX

A con artist meets her match when a mistress gives her a magic jacket that will provide the best orgasm ever.  The jacket will release her after her second orgasm.  Succulent erotic artistry!

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Copyrighted 4/2018, all rights reserved.  May not be reproduced without prior written permission.

 She was a con artist, a grifter, using her big, deep dark eyes, button innocent nose, and soft pouty lips as tools of a clever trade.  She looked young, had sweet, succulent breasts, and a perfect derrière which allowed her to wriggle her way into her mark’s wallet.

 I was unconcerned at first, but when I heard she was working her way into my territory…  well, can’t have that.  I politely warned her off and she, not realizing the danger, ignored me.  As a woman of wealth and power I took it as a direct insult.

 I do not suffer insults well.

 So, I laid my trap.

 It didn’t take long for her to wander into my club.  It was the perfect place for her to work.  Rich men and high priced drinks, she would be a kid in a candy shop.  I watched her from my private table as she made her way in.  She wore a lovely short black dress, elegant yet mildly naughty.  She made her way to the dance floor and began moving to the beat.  Her sad eyes, and dower lips were part of her cover story; young thing, out of cash and hope and prospective, makes her way to the club to dance and take her mind off her impending eviction, or brother needs an operation or go blind, or the dog has cancer, and some guy watching her cute little ass swaying would ask, ‘Why so sad?’ and she would bat back the tears, tell them the sob story, and walk out with a couple grand by nights end.

 I hate thieves and thievery and I will not tolerate it in my domain.

 I slowly made my way to the dance floor, the DJ sensed me and changed to a slow jam.

 My killer heels clicked, my sequined dress sparkled, my hair cascaded over my shoulders and my amber eyes peered at her like a cobra.

 She smelled my wealth in my perfume.

 I boldly took her hand and pulled her close, her breasts against me, and we began to dance.  I saw her eyes avoid looking at the massive emerald nestled in my cleavage.  She knew it was there and I could hear her brain calculating its worth as we danced slowly and provocatively as she imagined the jewel in her collection. 

 There on the floor we were quite the show, two hot chicks swirling around.

 The show had yet to begin.

 A predator of my caliber knows its prey.  She was thinking she was in control.  That she lead the dance; topping from the bottom.

 In reality she was in deadly peril.

 I struck smoothly, definitively, my lips locking with hers, sucking her into my passionate kiss.  She shivered beneath my grip, almost purring.  I reveled in her lips, tasting her strawberry gloss.  I knew all eyes were on us now, watching the pretty girls making out on the dance floor.  Too much attention was bad for a con artist, but I needed her off guard a little.  As I kissed her neck, I whispered into her ear, “If you were with me, I would dress you so fine.”  I licked her throat and felt her pulse with my tongue.  “I would take you to my penthouse and show you amazing delights!”

 Her face slipped back to sadness, readying her story of woe to start her con, but before she could speak I silenced her with a kiss.  I could feel her heart betray her as it filled with real passion.  Her skin flashed with gooseflesh.  “Come,” I whispered, “let us away to my private chambers.”

 It was the tiniest micro-emotion, her poker tell, as her face brightened ever so slightly.  It was time for privacy, when she could spring the con on me.  If she did it right, she would take me for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, and not even sleep with me.  She nodded weakly, submissively, at the idea of alone time.

 I lead her to my private elevator and used my key card to call it.  I held her close, possessively, my arm draped about her small waist.  “My sweet little thing,” I cooed.  “I must get you out of these things and into something nice.  Something you would like.”  I kissed her again.  She was giving up on trying to give her con for now as the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman like myself seemed imminent and intriguing.

 As we stepped into the elevator, she asked quickly, almost cattish. “What would you have me wear?”

 I pulled her close as the elevator rose.  “I have many, pretty things for you, but first, I think, my magic jacket.”

 Her eyes filled with naughty mirth.  “Magic, you say?”

 “Oh, yes!  Powerful magic!”  The elevator doors opened and I swept into my penthouse, leaving her to walk by herself and take in spectacle.  Her eyes were truly amazed at my glass vaulted ceilings and my vast display of expensive works of art.

 With two glasses in hand I reclined on the couch.  She joined me as I poured.  I noticed she didn’t drink until I did.

 We kissed.

 “So, this magic jacket?”  She asked, her voice a little trembling, her heart beginning to race, her pretense of a con all but gone.

 Through heavy lidded eyes I regarded her.  “Oh, it is quite the kink.”

 Her eyes became impish as she became the naughty schoolgirl.  “And how is it magic?”

 “It gives you an orgasm.”  I said, matter of factly.

 Her eyes sparked with askance.  “An orgasm?”

 “Oooh, not just any orgasm.”  I purred and slid closer.  “It promises to be the best orgasm ever.”  My hand brushed her breast and felt the nipple turn to stone.  “It tickles and plays and titillates everything until you come like a raving banshee.  You’ll think you have lightning in your veins and your skin was made of stars.”

 Kissing her again, I could read her body; my trap was sprung.

 “And you would give me this?”  Skepticism touched her smile.  “A present to a complete stranger?”

 I sipped my drink.  “To watch you have the orgasm of a life time, yes indeed.”

 Peering into her eyes, I watched her thought process.  A fancy magic jacket of orgasms would be a good, easy night’s haul.  “May I see it?”

 “It’s right here.”  I purred as I pulled it from its hiding place behind the couch.  I gently laid it across her lap.

 “Mmmm, leather.”  Her fingers danced across it.  “Oh, it’s so soft!”

 I shook my head.  “Carbon nano-tubes wound into thread and woven and textured to look like leather.”  I took the sleeve and brushed her cheek.  “It feels like leather, smells like leather,”  I tickled her little nose.  “but stronger than steel and virtually indestructible.  Inside its thin fabric is a web of nano-technology that detects your vital signs, endocrine levels, and nerve impulses.  It knows instantly what makes you happy and what makes you very happy.”

 She played with the sleeves, becoming surprised when she got to the ends.  “What?  A straight jacket?”

 I smiled playfully.  “I told you it was kinky.”  I touched her thigh.  “I didn’t think you would be afraid of a little kink.”  I slipped my hands under her dress and slid it up over her head with a single pull.

 “Am I to be naked?”  She giggled as I plucked at her bra.

 “The more skin it contacts, the better.”  She looked over the jacket as I slipped off her panties.

 She looked at the buckles curiously.  “These don’t look standard.  Do they lock?”

 “Mmm, hmm.”  I leaned forward, licking her nipples.

 “And you keep the key, I presume?”  I could tell she was wondering how far this game should go.

 “There is no key.”  I whispered, peering into her eyes, my face close to hers.  “It automatically unlocks after your second orgasm.”

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The Art Collector

If the future, corporations will achieve the right to take ownership of regular people.  Once in their fold, they can submit them to their will.  One corporation submits our hero to become the ultimate in art!

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https://subscribestar.adult/posts/938333

Wild body mods!  Surgical crafting!  One must suffer for their ART!

From the Gag Order archives, The Art Collector!
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/938333