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“Are you serious.”
It’s technically a question, but Stelle doesn’t pose it as one, flushing furiously as she tugs at the too-tight fabric of the black leotard.
Aventurine’s crooked smile remains fast in place, as he looses a soft chuckle. “Entirely.”
Stelle lets out a huff, blowing a strand of silver hair from her forehead. The outfit is even more humiliating than she imagined, barely covering her sensitive parts and leaving the rest of her exposed, complete with a pair of bunny ears affixed to a headband and a soft, cotton pom-pom sewn to the rear.
Aventurine brings a hand up to his chin, examining Stelle’s attire with an appraising eye. “Missing something, though,” he comments.
Stelle’s brow furrows. “Yeah. It’s missing a whole lot of fabric.”
He lets out a soft, amused exhale. “Not quite. Wait there.”
Aventurine turns to the lockers behind him and opens one. Stelle takes the opportunity to reach back and try to pull the edges of the leotard further down over her rear, to very little avail. Aventurine assured her that it was, in fact, the correct size, but Stelle has a hard time believing him. After all, he’s the one who got her into this mess.
Well, if she’s being honest with herself, it’s just as much her own fault as it is his. Everyone had warned her against getting into any kind of game of chance with Aventurine, but after one too many drinks at the Penacony Grand Hotel lounge, she’d been unable to turn him down when he challenged her to a round of cards.
She’d won the first round, which emboldened her enough to agree to a second, then a third. After that, the details are fuzzy, but she recalls the words “let’s make this interesting” falling from his mouth. She should have known he was playing her from the start, but quitting while she was ahead has never been one of her strong suits, and now…well, here she is.
Until today, Stelle, wasn’t even aware that there was a casino in the Penacony dreamscape, though she supposes it ought not come as much surprise. She is surprised, however, that this…thing Aventurine has given her to wear is the uniform staff are expected to wear in this part of the park.
She’s unsure exactly what his motives are. Now that she has stepped right into his carefully laid trap, what exactly does he hope to gain by making her wear this ridiculous outfit while serving drinks at the casino? She’s been racking her brains ever since they arrived here, but he’s given away nothing.
He finds what he was looking for in the locker before long, and turns around with a small, circular tray, attached by two small cables to what appears to be a collar. Aventurine holds it out to her. “Here.”
Stelle takes the contraption with cautious skepticism, mouth twisting downwards. “What’s this for?”
“What do you think?” He tilts his head to one side, still wearing that damnable smile. “To carry the drinks, obviously. Need help?”
Without waiting for her to answer, he steps forward and takes the collar part, bringing it up to fasten around her neck. Suddenly he’s close enough for Stelle to feel his breath on her bare skin, and though she opens her mouth to protest, the sound sticks in her throat. Heat rushes to her cheeks as Aventurine buckles the collar snugly, and then steps back to adjust the tray. With the collar now in place, the tray rests just beneath her breasts, digging in just enough to be slightly uncomfortable. His hands move a little too close to her body for her liking as he situates it, and getting a hold of herself, she smacks him away. “Can’t I just hold the tray?” she mutters, shifting.
“Normally, yes,” Aventurine says. “But I’m afraid that won’t be possible in a moment.”
“What do you—”
She looks up to see him holding something else, eyes twinkling. A pair of sturdy-looking white leather cuffs, with delicate lace adorning the edges, connected to one another by a short chain.
Stelle recoils. “You don’t expect me to wear those?”
“Of course I do?” His smile widens. “Or don’t you remember the terms of our bet?”
Stelle bites back a retort. He knows damn well that she doesn’t, but she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. He could be lying; Stelle wants to think that she’d remember if the deal had included a caveat like this, but it’s impossible for her to say. Maybe he’s just trying to see how far he can push her. Though she has no idea exactly what’s going on in that head of his, one thing she is sure of is that he’s enjoying making her squirm.
Still, she’s come this far, and though he certainly has ulterior motives at play, Stelle doesn’t think he actually means her any harm. It’s only for one day, she reminds herself. Maybe it won’t be that bad.
With a sigh, she holds out her hands, but Aventurine clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Guess again.”
She blinks, and realizes after a moment what he wants. “Are you—” she starts to ask the question again, but stops herself. Of course he’s serious, and he’s relishing in her incredulity. Clenching her teeth, she slowly turns and places her hands behind her back.
She can practically hear his shit-eating grin as he secures first one cuff, then the other to each of her wrists, checking the snugness of each one before he steps back. A knot begins to form in the pit of her stomach, but she waits until he’s finished before shooting him a glance over her shoulder. “Are you satisfied?” she grumbles. “Can we get on with it now?”
“Hold on,” he says. “We’re not quite ready yet.”
Stelle rolls her eyes. Aventurine moves quickly back over to the locker and withdraws a few more items, though his body blocks most of them from Stelle’s view. She lets out another huff, and finally can’t hold it in anymore. “Seriously, what is all this for?” she asks. “What are you getting at?”
He turns around with a look of obviously feigned confusion. There are several more strappy-looking devices in his hands, all made from that same white leather, but Stelle is too frustrated to try and figure out what they all are. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he says, with a step forward.
“I mean,” she says, with a glare, “why are you making me do this? Can you just be straight with me, for once? What do you get out of this?”
His gaze locks into hers, and she searches, but his face reveals nothing. There’s a motive, there has to be, but whatever it is he’s hiding it well.
Aventurine approaches once again, with one corner of his mouth turned upwards. “That’s easy,” he says. “It’s fun.”
Stelle’s eyes fall to what’s in his hand, which is, sure enough, another collection of straps made from the same material as the cuffs now locked onto her wrists. “So…” she struggles to form a sentence. “So, what? You’re just making me do this because you’re bored?”
“Do I need a better reason?” he asks. “Perhaps I just thought you’d look good in the outfit.”
Stelle opens her mouth to argue, but can’t come up with a reply before her attention is pulled to the firsts web of leather Aventurine has in his hand, which he is fiddling with as if trying to find the right end. After a moment, he steps in close, once again with no warning, and sending another rush of blood into Stelle’s face. “Now, hold still,” he says, and before Stelle can react, he’s wrapping the straps around her body.
The contraption seems to be a harness of some kind, which she only barely manages to realize as Aventurine quickly and expertly buckles it on. Each strap is anchored by one of three metal rings, which rest above her breasts, below her breasts, and at her bellybutton, respectively. They fasten in the back overtop of her arms, keeping them firmly pressed against her back and immobilizing her even further. It seems almost impossible for Aventurine to have affixed the device to her so quickly, but by the time she’s registered what’s happening, he’s already closing the last buckle.
Stelle’s heart leaps into her throat as she realizes just how helpless she’s been rendered. Though not uncomfortable, the bindings hold her entire upper half prisoner, and judging from the rattling she hears behind her, Aventurine still has more. Something is beginning to coil deep in her lower stomach, and it’s a feeling she’s not sure she likes.
She starts to turn around. “Okay, that’s enou—”
The word gets halfway out of her mouth, and is abruptly smothered as something round and rubbery is forced into her mouth.
She’s too surprised to resist, and Aventurine pulls the ball past her teeth from behind. A soft panel attached to the front presses up against her lips, holding the ball in place. Stelle lets out a muffled yelp of protest. The gag tightens around her face as Aventurine wastes no time buckling it at the back of her head.
“Sorry,” he says, with a tone that does not sound sorry at all. “Was getting tired of hearing you complain. At least this way, you won’t have to worry about making conversation with the patrons, hm?”
Stelle does her best to swear at him. It doesn’t come through as anything more than an annoyed growl, but Aventurine seems to get the gist anyway, chuckling as he moves to her front and buckles a second strap on the panel gag under her chin. “There,” he says. “Just one more thing.”
What now? Stelle pins him with a poisonous glare as she brings forth another pair of cuffs, matching the ones on her wrists, but with a longer chain between them. “No kicking, now,” he says with a wink, and bends down to affix the cuffs to her ankles.
As if the high heels she’s been forced to wear wouldn’t hobble her enough, the chain between the ankle cuffs is just long enough to allow her to take small, careful steps; assuring that she won’t get very far should she try to run off. Aventurine stands up and takes a step back, eyes passing over her in examination. He seems overall pleased with his work, despite the fact that Stelle is currently trying to light him on fire with her mind.
“Well, that just about does it,” he says, gaze sweeping her up and down. Though his cards are kept close to his chest, something in the way he looks at her makes her wonder if “fun” really is all that’s to this. To think it could be a simple as that seems almost ridiculous—would he actually go to such lengths to get her dressed like this, put these restraints on her, just because…he feels like it? He likes it? Is this somehow, in his strange, twisted mind, his idea of flirting?
Unfortunately, she can no longer ask him. He moves past her to the door behind her, where the locker room opens out into the casino. “Better get a move on,” he tells her. “Don’t want to be late for your shift, now do you?”
He gives her a gentle nudge. Stelle stumbles, but catches her balance, determined not to fall—she refuses to humiliate herself further, if that’s even possible. She feels the burn of embarrassment travel all the way from her cheeks to the tips of her ears and down to her collarbone as several of the casino’s patrons turn to watch her enter.
And all the while, she is acutely aware of Aventurine’s eyes on her, following her every move. She sneaks a glance back at him. He’s made his way over to the bar to the right, and settles into one of the cushioned barstools as he shoots her another wink.
Stelle turns away before he can see the flush deepen in her cheeks, and lets out an exhale through her nose. If he’s telling the truth, and all he wants from her is a show…well, she doesn’t have much choice now but to let him have it.
