Mavis and the Featherlight Ch. 01

Mavis chuckled. So this was what Rose got up to. Oh, how exciting.

Her attention turned back to the lock, her fingers slowly cupping it as she smiled, slowly blushing. To use a lock - Such a wonderful looking lock, too - for something like this? It was utterly devilish. Picking locks on one's doors and windows was one thing. Picking locks on cages, on restraints, was another. But picking a lock meant to secure, control and firmly fasten away one's sex into cold, unyielding steel -- particularly of this quality -- was quite different altogether. Such a lock would silently follow the device, and its wearer, everywhere -- endlessly oppressing them, ensuring their security. Their frustration. Their 'chastity'.

She took a moment to imagine herself, trying to pick herself free from a chastity belt that Rose had fitted on her -- her sex throbbing behind the tight, chilling steel -- and quickly, her whole body was trembling, her face flushed. This was awakening something inside her, she was sure of it. Rose already took more dominant roles in their bedroom. As a situation, a realistic one, it made perfect sense. This notion of mixing work and play, talent and sexuality... Locks, and her love life. Oh, my. That dimension would be... Quite, erotic. And rather frighteningly enchanting.

She blushed. Might Rose wear a chastity belt? P-Perhaps...? No, surely not, but... How could she know? Rose... She flushed, realising that she'd never seen or felt the angel's bare waist. Never even seen under her clothes. She'd heard slight sounds, though, now that she came to think about it. Gentle grinding and little clicks, as the angel moved. And strange sensation of warmth at the bottom of the angel's tummy, the one time she'd touched there. Perhaps a strange hardness, beneath the many layers of the angel's soft, thick dresses, the few times she'd been allowed to lay her head there?

But, no. No! Rose wouldn't be into that... Surely, it must have either been imagined, or easily explainable by other factors. The angel carried plenty of tools on her person. It was surely not...

Mavis pouted. Could she be, though? Could she be wearing one? And... If she was...

She banished the new wave of lewd thoughts, glancing down at the guard again. She could think about that later. For now... Perhaps it would fit her? She shut the box, glancing over the Enochian letters, uncomprehending -- Before flipping it open again and holding the belt up, pushing herself up onto her knees to compare the waist size.

No, probably not. Too small.

And besides, a small part of her noted - this belt didn't belong to her, and therefore probably wasn't hers to play with. Judging by the note, it was probably her girlfriend's job to repair it. Mavis wouldn't interfere, though it saddened her a little. She laid it back in its box, shutting the lid.

...

She couldn't help but open the second one.

Another chastity belt. This time, so very different. Softgrip, read the inscription. Nr. 011647. It looked a little more luxurious than the Maiden's Guard, being rather generously padded with soft rubber -- however, it looked much heavier as a result. On top of that, this curved metal, rather than being unintrusive, looked as though it were intended to wrap the wearer's waist like a hard metal shell - a rigid, weighty fortress, completely impregnable to frustrated fingers and various tools alike. A shimmering metal brief, even, as strange as it was bewitchingly beautiful -- one that almost seemed designed to frustrate the free movement of the wearer's legs. Mavis had to wonder how the hell such shapes must be machined. It must have been thick enough in places -- particularly above the crotch, which Mavis supposed was the point -- to put multiple inches of space and metal between surface and skin. Yet, in other spots, the metal was almost wafer thin. Such pieces were quite impossibly shaped to have not been made extremely carefully by hand, which, with this level of required precision, Mavis could only see as insanity. More surprising was that Mavis couldn't see how this belt opened at all -- only the embedded, plus shaped keyhole in its front. Oh, how fascinating. Were the anatomy present that this belt had been designed to fit, there would simply be no getting free from it once it was locked on. That anatomy almost made her jealous -- though, as she quickly reminded herself, such body types were something angels were quite known for.

Quickly, the elf realised that this belt, too, had a note from Rose.

Maj. FAULT -- beautifully made lock, but stuck closed after failed st, requires d-i + replacement (hf only -- possible write off?)

How saddening. Not that she'd pick any working lock, let alone one that meant so much to the most important person in the world to her...

Well, she might have done so just once. Or twice. Someone of her talents wouldn't break things, after all. The first one, to her surprise, had been one of the hardest picks she'd ever done -- the angel's irritation at finding it open giving way to pride as Mavis recounted it to her later on. The second had been plucked away from her before she got anywhere, the angel smiling warily at her as she slipped the lock into her pocket and invited the elf for a meal out. The lock in front of her was different, though. She'd never seen a keyway with this shape -- and the key, which lay in the bottom of the box, looked rather strange too.

This belt wouldn't have fit her anyway.

...Why was she noting that?

The only box left was the big box. Mavis slowly put away the broken Softgrip, sliding both of the smaller boxes under the bed -- making sure they were in the same places they'd been before as warily, her eyes settled on the big one.

Oh gods, what am I doing? She mused. My poor Rose. I shouldn't be doing this to her. The thoughts danced around in her head. Ah, but oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Up came the lid. And Mavis's breath caught in her throat.

Another chastity belt, yes -- but this chastity belt was very different. It was the largest and most solid looking of all of them, and its name -- according to subtle, almost handwritten lettering that she again had to tilt her head to just the right angle to read -- was Featherlight. Nr. 004265.

The metal was noticeably thicker and denser than that of the other two belts -- at the crotch, Mavis measured two inches. She wondered about a price, noticing at that point the tiny clockwork gears hidden inside -- and a quiet, gentle ticking that could barely be perceived. She had thought the last two belts, heavy and finely crafted that they were, must have cost a fortune to make. This one, though... It put them to shame. It was the heaviest one, she also noted, as she carefully lifted it out of the ornate box it had come in. Her eyes darted to the note, dismayed to see several vague problems that apparently made this belt, too, unusable for its original purpose;

FAULT - engine not disablable, configuration mechanisms jammed, all settings stuck at MAX after operational test. fs dead (does not impair lock)

FAULT - lock defensive enc. disabled in previous repair attempt (apparent acc., tdc via ungrounded ley cable ml) REQ re-enc with leyweaver, meaning d-I + replacement (i.e. hf, i.e. write off ☹️)

Probably very fun to wear.

Mavis sighed, trying to ignore how hot and bothered she felt as her eyes slowly moved back to the belt, turning it over in her lap. The shiny, polished steel surfaces distorted the version of her face that looked back at her, her searching eyes travelling down to the pretty cross that adorned the front -- the church cross -- as her fingers skated softly over the thick metal edges. Slowly, she began to tremble, taking in how thickness and density of the metal waistband, and noticing the six keys dangling from the keyhole, their heads all different colors -- red, black, green, blue, orange, purple. Red was the key currently inserted. There was a label attached to the keyring, too:

-1 Unlock

0 Inert

1 Tantilise

2 Trace

3 Temper

4 Tease

5 Taunt

6 Torment

7 Terrorise

8 Punish

9 Unwind

Mavis had no idea what that meant.

Quickly, the belt took back her attention. This waistband... She ran her fingers over it. How had they done that? How do you do that with metal? The subtle shaping, the curl and wind of the thick band as it ran not in any kind of circle, but in a carefully measured, almost anatomically cast trace of someone, somewhere's cute little waist. Each part of it curved and twirled subtly in all three of the possible directions, in a way that would not only squeeze the wearer's waist tightly and snugly, but would seat the belt comfortably atop their widening hips as well -- flaring out at the bottom, as if to melt over the top of a rounded butt... Quite like Mavis's.

Mavis swallowed nervously, lifting herself up onto her knees and holding up the belt alongside them to confirm; This belt would, in fact, almost exactly fit her.

What kind of girl was this chastity belt for, though? 'Fun to wear?' Oh, Mavis agreed, it must be. This thing was beautiful. But the craftsmanship... This was just impossible. This had to have been done, either by hand over months, working day after day in a forge, or... Or...

But with what tools? What could curl and form such dense, thickened metal in such a wonderfully intricate and pretty way? What was Rose hiding from her!? Really! Her fingers darted around the front shield again, noting the many flaring leaves of metal under the edges -- quite definitely designed to press into the wearer's skin harder than the belt itself, redirecting all manner of tools into pits of cold steel. She poked at what looked like little doors under the front shield, and then, her fingers finding themselves unable to pry their way inside, ran her way over the part where the wearer's pubic area would sit -- tapping at the dome-shaped metal mesh, behind which sat more layers still of metal, glimpsed gears, and carefully drilled channels for fluids. Her fingers flitted through the hole in the rear bar, clearly made to use the bathroom without obstruction. They wriggled mischievously.

As she turned the belt back around, she noticed the keyway again. It was another lock. Another lock, made to lock away another person's sex... She shuddered, admiring the careful integration as she slipped out the key, noting curiously that there wasn't any noticeable rasping sound as it raked its way out. Her fingertips swept around the keyway, then, her fingernail pushing its way inside and, of course, not being able to turn the lock. She tried the keys, noticing most of them didn't work. How strange. She noticed how the lock didn't do much to resist them entering. There were small, noticeable bumps, of course, but no sound -- no clicks or rasps. She'd never worked with a lock that felt like this before. It must have been very well lubricated. Or... Or, something. And extremely carefully made. Or, at least, one of those... Her eyes narrowed in confusion as, finally, she re-inserted the red key -- the first one that had been in the lock -- and found, with a start, that it was the first one that turned. She rotated the red key several times, noticing that it would turn the lock, and the inner cylinder of the lock body around it, both left and right in full rotations -- even though the belt wouldn't open, or really do a thing. She pushed at it in irritation, noticing that the lock would now allow itself to be pushed inwards -- and when she turned the key then, to the right...

Not only the inner cylinder of the lock turned now, but the outer one too. But still, nothing happened. Nothing, except that the lock stopped well short of a full rotation. The first time she turned it all the way to the right, however, clearly noting 10 distinct positions, the belt made a loud noise -- the rapid spinning and rasping of gears, making her jump up. Had she broken it?!

Little appeared to have changed. Things worked as before. But the ticking, had just... Stopped. She turned the key back to its original position, tilting the belt around anxiously as, quietly, the ticking resumed. She sighed. Thank goodness.

The key could still be removed. She could leave the lock in any position, little engraved lines on the outside tracking the positions of the two cylinders. The first layer of lock rotation didn't seem to be affected by this either -- she could still rotate the inner cylinder in a circle, over and over. But... How did it even...?

Mavis looked at it, slightly irritated. What was the point of this? "Lefty loosy, righty tighty, right?" She said to herself. "Yes?" She asked the belt, pushing the red key in and turning it all the way to the left.

As if in response, the waistband's parts fell open, separating in her lap.

Curiously, and slightly warily, the elf pushed them back together, hoping that she knew how to relock the thing. She took a moment to take note of the locking bolts -- they seemed to simply be big deadbolts, formed to lock the hinged parts of it together when the lock was closed. To accomplish this, some rotated 90 degrees to lock in place -- others, however, slid in a circular motion, driving their thick deadbolts through all three of the intersecting components. She locked it again, tugging at the parts once she'd rotated the key all the way to the right, where it again stopped halfway -- then turning the key to almost the position that would make the locks spring open, and finding the belt locked with the same tightness. It seemed that turning the key once would already snap all of the bolts rapidly and fully into position, the click making her jump slightly with its forcefulness as she listened to it again. And given that, she had no idea what turning the key further was doing. Warily, unlocked it again. Locked it. Unlocked it. She opened the waistband, twisting at the key to try and observe the bolts moving more closely -- and finding that it wouldn't turn, then. Apparently, she wasn't allowed to see the bolts engage while there was no connecting parts for them to secure themselves through. "Alright then," She said, poking at the stubbornly sheathed bolts sadly, unable to find any kind of pressure button that might be telling the belt it wasn't properly closed -- "Keep your secrets."

What was the black key for? That was the only remaining one she hadn't tried. She took it, pushing it into the lock -- and immediately noticing it would only turn the outer cylinder and the inner one at the same time, meaning it could only unlock and lock the belt. She couldn't push the keyway inwards with this one, either, nor turn the outer cylinder further than the first 'locked' position. There was more; If she turned the lock more than one rotation beyond 'locked' with the red key pushed in, then removed it and put the black key in, the black key wouldn't be able to move the lock at all. A lesser ranked key? She had to wonder.

This wasn't quite enough. She needed to understand this lock a little more. Or rather... The feelings of the person that would be trapped by it. The position, and angle that picking attempts would have to come from. Yes... It was, quite an interesting lock. A beautiful belt. She wanted to get to know it better. And it wasn't... She wouldn't make a mess of the belt. Would Rose mind if she, just, very quickly...?

Slowly, she got up, carrying the belt with her and laying it upon Rose's bed. Candidly, she glanced out of the window, over her large, empty garden. She pulled one of the curtains carefully shut, moving behind it to slip out of her skirt, and unbutton her underwear. She took the belt gingerly from the bed, then, opening it again with the red key.

Slowly, she compared it to her size again. It was... It really was just the right size for her, wasn't it? Mavis's thin little waist tingled from the chilling steel as she laid it around herself, immediately noting the increasing tightness as she began to hinge it shut. It took the elf a moment to align everything properly, pulling the two halves together and trying to turn the lock. She found it wouldn't. What was...? Oh, right. She noticed the front shield, still hanging between her legs. Gingerly... Slowly, and softly, wondering if she should, she lifted it up into its place -- gasping at how tight it felt, how hard it pressed into her groin, conspicuously squashing and pressing on all but one place: An elliptic dome around her tingling, moistening sex. She took a breath once she finally got it to hook in, her hands shaking from how tightly she had to hold all of the metal to stop any of the parts from slipping out of position. Her pubic hair was shaved -- a preference of Rose -- and so wouldn't get caught, even if the elf was still quite wary of pinching skin. Quickly, her fingers gripped the key, slowly turning it, until the belt loudly responded -- Click-click.

It was done. She released the belt, her heart jumping as it remained in place, and, slowly, she removed the red key.

She had to wonder how secure the belt was. Her sex felt isolated, sealed and suspended without any kind of sensation beneath the dome, and still slightly wet. Moving and rotating her hips seemed to make the gears respond slightly, turning slowly as if the belt was winding itself back up from her movements. Somehow, this made her feel in danger, her body shuddering as the reality of having just locked the sturdiest chastity belt she'd ever seen firmly onto herself sank in. As if sensing her anxiety, the ticking seemed to louden. However, she quickly reassured herself -- though something was clearly going on, there was no reason to assume she was in any danger. She had the keys right with her.

Her fingers settled on the top of the high waistband, noting that it nearly covered her belly button. She pushed against it, the belt unsurprisingly refusing to move an inch even as she angled her hips. She giggled, glancing at the mirror and seeing her own round ass, flaring out comfortably beneath the thick waistband curled over it.

Her tiny body was now beginning to respond quite sensually to the pressure of the tight, snuggly chastity belt. And just from looking at the fit, she quickly knew for a fact that there wouldn't be a chance of her pulling herself out of it. Still, she playfully tugged and shook at the thing, somehow enjoying the strange new feeling of her sex being so completely controlled; secured firmly from her reach by the cold, thick metal, and that single, strange little lock.

Controlled. Every lock she made, every lock she worked on... Their true purpose was to control something. Was someone something? Someone was certainly a subset of something. But, wasn't this ever so strange? Ever so... Tantalizingly, heart-poundingly taboo? Quietly, she picked up her skirt, pulling it up, and over the belt -- and seeing, in the mirror, that the entrapment of her body was now quite invisible -- or at least, mostly invisible. It seemed a skirt wasn't the ideal article to cover something as bulky as a Featherlight. Still, under one of her regular dresses, the belt would be quite impossible for anyone to see or find...

Did people wear these for so long? Hidden under their clothes, through their daily lives, controlled even as they went to work, went home, slept, ate their breakfast? Controlled, so firmly, so completely, even as they engaged in their hobbies? As they spoke to their friends, visited their families? All the time? All the time...