The Collar 4: Halloween | By : foobar137 Category: +M through R > Phineas and Ferb Views: 8378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Phineas carried the large duffel bag down the dorm hallway. Chris, one of the other guys on the floor, dodged around him, then turned back to him. "You two are coming to the party at Phi U tonight, right?"
"Wouldn't miss it!" Phineas said, patting the duffel bag. "These are our costumes."
"Sweet. See you then!" Chris turned and trotted away as Phineas arrived at the door to the room he shared with Isabella.
Officially, it was her room. She was a resident assistant in one of the freshman dorms, supervising a coed floor. Phineas's official room was on the other side of campus, a triple shared with two lacrosse players. Since Isabella had a room to herself, he'd effectively moved in with her within a couple weeks. As the RA, she'd been able to get him spare keys to the building and the room.
They'd been in a romantic and sexual relationship for about five months now, ever since the incredible day when they'd both realized that not only were their interests in each other mutual, but so were their interests in a BDSM relationship. Most of the time, they were partners. She was on the soccer team, and in student government; he'd gone into student government as well to spend more time with her. They worked on homework together, and went on dates.
And then, sometimes, in their room, she'd put on her collar and he'd tie her to the bed, or spank her, or punish her in other ways. Sometimes he was her master, and she was his willing slave.
He still wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed that, but he was incredibly glad he had.
He shifted the duffel bag so he could unlock the dorm room door. Isabella would be back in a little bit. He really hoped she liked her costume. It hadn't taken as long to make as his own had, but the two of them together would be serious contenders for the Halloween costume contest at Phi Upsilon Kappa, the fraternity that Chris was pledging. She'd asked him to pick costumes, since she was busy enough that she couldn't do much to help.
As the door closed behind him, he dropped the bag onto the twin bed that they shared. It made for close quarters, but being able to be with her all night was well worth it. They'd gotten through the awkward first few weeks of sharing a living space with a few arguments, a few fights, a few concessions from each of them, and a lot of make-up sex.
He unzipped the duffel bag and started pulling out the components of his costume. He'd be going as Delft Phaltar, the evil bounty hunter from Space Adventure 5 and 6. The long black cloak was on top, and he removed it, revealing his steel-grey armored chestplate. He paused to admire the blaster burn he'd carefully marked in the shoulder. The silver and midnight-blue trim was still visible through the wear and marks it had taken him hours to replicate. The black open-face helmet came out next, then the midnight-blue gauntlets.
The door unlocked with a click, and Isabella came in. "What'cha doin'? Hey, it's done?" she asked, nodding toward the costume as she set her backpack down.
"Yeah, it came out really well," Phineas said. "See?" He held up the chestplate to show her.
"Delft Phaltar? Cool. So who am I..." she trailed off, looking at the duffel bag. "Phaltar's armor is going to fill that whole thing. What's my costume?" she asked suspiciously.
With an evil grin worthy of Delft Phaltar himself, he pulled out a brass-colored metal bra from the end of the duffel bag. "I know you're a big fan of Princess Allyra," he said.
"That doesn't mean I was planning to wear a slave outfit to a fraternity Halloween party," she said, her eyes narrowing.
He set the bra down on the bed and walked over to her, sliding her backpack off her shoulder. She looked up at him, still giving him a dubious expression. He put his arms around her, and she leaned into his chest, taking a deep, calming breath as he kissed the top of her head. She looked back up at him with a bit of a smile.
He reached up and hooked a finger into the gold necklace she wore, which was marked with his initial. He'd given it to her before prom, and they considered it her public collar. Not that they were playing 24/7 submission, but it was a reminder of how she'd chosen to submit to him. She shuddered in his arms. "I was figuring you might like the chance to go be my slave out in public, on the one day that people won't take it too seriously," he said quietly.
Her expression was conflicted, but she took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Let's see it."
Isabella pulled Phineas's cloak around herself more tightly and tried to keep from shivering in the late October air. Many of the houses on the street had jack-o-lanterns on their porches, although Halloween wasn't actually for a few more days.
"Sorry," Phineas said, putting his arm around her. "We're almost there."
She glared at him. "I'd be fine if I had some actual clothes to wear."
"I'll be there with you," he said softly. "It'll be okay. And since it's a fraternity Halloween party, we won't win the contest unless your costume is really sexy."
"Is it?" she asked him with a smile.
"Yes. Yes, it is," he agreed instantly.
She laughed. "Yours isn't so bad either," she said. The costume did look good on him, she had to admit, a nigh-perfect replica of the famous steel-grey armor. A black cloak would complete it, once they got inside and she gave it back to him. Dangling from his utility belt were his phase blaster and mag-restraints - high-tech handcuffs which she'd have to wear during the costume judging. And, most likely, when they got back to her room, but that one she was looking forward to a bit more. She might not be wearing the rest of the costume by that point, although it would be easy enough for him to ravish her with it in place. Speaking of which...
"I'd probably feel better if there were any underwear with it," she said. Her own costume was equally iconic - the gold-colored metallic bra, the long red loincloth dangling down from the front and back of the golden belt around her hips, and the steel collar around her neck, with the chain dangling down almost to her knees. But Phineas had insisted that the costume be authentic...
He looked at her, shocked. "But Amie Reynolds said that she didn't wear anything under it!"
"She also said she wasn't happy about that," Isabella muttered. Amie Reynolds, the actress playing Princess Allyra, had actually made some rather scathing comments about the lack of underwear with her costume.
"You want to do it right, don't you?"
Isabella was spared the need to answer by their arrival at the front door. "Hey, Phineas, Isabella," Chris said. Chris lived down the hall from them, and was pledging Phi U. "Nice Phaltar costume. Does that mean...?" He leered at Isabella, and she fought to not clutch the cloak around herself. She didn't mind showing off for Phineas, but she didn't like the look Chris was giving her.
"It does. Let us inside before she freezes to death?" Phineas said.
Chris stepped aside, and they entered the hallway. Inside, the party was getting started - there were people roaming the room ahead, including some other couples. She saw a young woman in a skimpy genie costume holding hands with a young man in an Air Force uniform, and a couple both dressed in red lifeguard swimsuits - his a long set of swim trunks, hers a red string bikini.
It's not any more revealing than a bikini, she thought. It's just a costume. There's other women here wearing just about the same thing.
Chris was watching her expectantly. She unclasped the cloak and handed it to Phineas, and Chris's eyes bugged out.
"Wow!" Chris said. "I think you may have a lock on the contest! I am really looking forward to seeing you in the finals!"
Phineas smiled as he put the cloak on, then took up the chain attached to her collar. "Thanks," he said. "We're going to go get something to drink."
"Enjoy, you two!" Chris said as they turned away. Isabella knew even without looking back that he was staring at her ass. She could feel her heart racing uncomfortably.
It wasn't just Chris, she noticed - all the guys were checking her out; so were some of the women. The rest of the women mostly looked sympathetic. There was even another Slave Princess Allyra, although the other woman's companion was dressed as Allyra's significant other, Spacefleet captain Sondar Stibb. The other Allyra nodded at her as Phineas led her back toward the drinks.
The hall toward the bar area was crowded, and as they walked through it, Isabella felt a few 'accidental' touches where guys bumped into her. They all came on her bare skin, somehow. She tried to look to see who it was, but Phineas hadn't noticed, and was still holding her chain, so she had to keep up with him. She tried to wipe away the feeling of the hands on her.
The fraternity's advisor sat by the bar, making sure that there was no alcohol being served. Chris had told them that once the costume contest started, the advisor would head up to watch, and then usually leave; that was when the beer and liquor came out of hiding. Isabella had already decided she wanted to leave as soon as the contest was over.
Phineas got them both sodas, then led her over toward some seats on one side. She recognized a couple guys from her classes, but wasn't sure they recognized her. They weren't looking at her face.
"Hey, you okay?" Phineas asked quietly. Isabella looked worried, like something was wrong. He had hoped she'd be able to enjoy this, but it didn't look like she was.
She nodded, a thin smile on her face.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head. "It's fine." Her smile brightened a bit, then faded as she looked over his shoulder.
"Damn!" a young man wearing a T-shirt that said 'COSTUME' said, coming up behind them. Phineas could smell alcohol on his breath as he put his hand on Phineas's shoulder. "Now that is one seriously hot piece of ass," he said, looking Isabella up and down. He patted Phineas's shoulder, then wandered off, still looking back at Isabella appreciatively.
They reached a low couch off to one side of the room. Isabella eyed it dubiously.
"What?" Phineas asked.
"There is no way I can sit on that without showing off exactly what I'm wearing underneath this," she whispered.
"Ohhh."
A female shriek from the other side of the room made them turn. A young woman in a "lifeguard" string bikini was clutching her top, trying to keep her breasts covered, as her boyfriend was threatening to fight the guy who had apparently untied the knots on her back. Phineas winced, glad he'd made Isabella's costume harder to unfasten without being noticed - the bra was front-clasp, and the belt had a complicated clasp that was hidden on one side.
Isabella winced as the male lifeguard helped his girlfriend refasten her bikini top. She looked at the couch again, and then realized there were a couple of the fraternity brothers on the floor near it. They looked like they were casually playing with their phones, but from this angle, she could see that they were in camera mode, ready to snap pictures at any accidental - or "accidental" - exposure.
Some of the other fraternity brothers were intervening in the brewing fight, but she realized that the one who'd tried to remove a woman's costume without her consent wasn't getting kicked out. Which meant he'd probably try it again on somebody else's costume.
I'm done here, Isabella decided. She needed out now. She tried to figure out how to convince Phineas to leave with her. Do I say I don't feel well? Do I tell him these guys are beyond creepy? Do I...
She realized what she needed to do. She set down her soda, untouched, and tugged on Phineas's sleeve, pulling him away from where he was watching the incident. "Hmm?" he asked.
"Red," she said, using her full-stop safeword for the first time.
He looked at her, puzzled, and then his eyes widened. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I need to get out of here. Now. This place is giving me the creeps, and not in a Halloween way."
"Gotcha." He glanced back at the lifeguard couple, then nodded. "Want the cloak again?"
"Please."
He unclasped the cloak and put it around her shoulders. "Let's go," he said, taking up her chain again and leading her toward the door.
As they approached the way out, Chris saw them. "Getting some air?" he asked.
"She's not feeling well," Phineas lied smoothly. "Sorry, need to get her home."
"Aw, that's a shame," Chris said. "You two were a lock for the final three, and they have the women go topless for that."
Isabella shuddered with relief as they got past him. "Topless?" she whispered incredulously.
"Sorry," Phineas said. "I didn't realize. My fault."
She pulled the cloak about herself more tightly. "I'd think we'd have heard beforehand."
"Evidently not." He paused. "I am sorry about the costume. I thought you'd be okay with it."
"So did I, until it came time to go out in it," she said. "I should have spoken up earlier. I could have called 'yellow' and you would have listened."
"You shouldn't need to call your safewords for that sort of thing, though."
"No, but it's nice to have them." She smiled up at him, the stress of being at the party washing away and leaving a feeling of relief. "And it's nice to know you'll listen when I use them."
"Always." He put his arm around her as they walked, the chain held loosely in his other hand. The walkway back to her dorm was quiet, but the sounds of parties echoed faintly from just off-campus.
She sighed happily. "It worked out. And I'm sure you'll find a way to take advantage of this costume tonight."
He laughed evilly. "I certainly can. Would you like me to?"
"I wouldn't object..."
He looked around, and dragged her into a dark recess off to one side of the path. "Wait, what?" she said, trying to catch her breath as he pulled her wrists together in front of her. With quiet clicks, his mag-restraints locked around her wrists, pinning them together. Oh, God, she thought. Here?
He grinned at her evilly. "Wait, what, Master?" he said in a low voice. He turned her around to face the dark corner, and pressed himself into her back as his arms wrapped around her. She couldn't see a thing, but she could feel the hard plastic of his armor against her back. Both hands slid inside the cloak, one resting on her bare stomach as the other slid down her leg.
"Master," she breathed, leaning back into him. She could have fended him off if she had wanted to, but she had no desire to. She was his, and he was claiming her. His mouth was nibbling on the back of her neck, one hand was stroking her stomach, and the other...
She suddenly remembered that she had no underwear under the loincloth. Master Phineas had evidently kept it in mind, as his hand slid to her inner thigh. "Open," he murmured against her neck, and she closed her eyes and shifted her feet to give him access. He wasted no time, his finger parting her labia and finding her rapidly-moistening center.
She moaned quietly as his finger circled her entrance, gently probing, gathering a touch of slickness before sliding back through her slit. He came near her clit, and her hips rocked as she attempted to guide his hand where she wanted it.
"Hold still, slave," he said quietly, and she tried to hold herself in place despite the stimulation. His other hand came up between her breasts, and she felt the metal bra loosen as he unlatched the front-closure on it. His hand slid inside the cup as the stiff nipple poked into his palm.
The hand between her legs was driving her toward the edge. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open as she felt her body getting ready to explode.
And then it left, and his other hand moved off of her breast. Her mouth closed and she turned her head, opening her eyes to give him a beseeching look.
"That ought to hold you until we get back to the room," he said. He shifted the cloak to cover her again, without refastening the bra or removing the cuffs. "Let's go." He picked up the leash that had been left dangling and led her back to the path.
She looked around; it appeared that nobody had seen them in the dark corner. She hurried her steps as much as she could, trying to get to her dorm room so Master could finish the job he'd started.
Phineas unlocked the door to the dorm, then led her down the hallway to their room. He unlocked their door, and she hurried in, dropping the cloak as soon as he'd closed the door. She knelt down in front of him, her eyes downcast. "Master," she said.
He tugged upward on the chain connected to her collar, and she looked up at him. "On the bed," he said. She stood as gracefully as she could, then laid on the bed. She lifted her bound wrists up to the headboard and spread her legs to the corners of the mattress. She felt the loincloth laying between her legs, her only covering, as the metal cups of the unfastened bra fell to her sides.
Phineas turned on the sound dampener he'd built, which would keep whatever noises she made from leaking out to the rest of the dorm. He looked in a drawer in the nightstand, pulling out a few short straps. One quickly attached her wrist cuffs to the headboard, while the other two fastened her ankles to the bedposts. She squirmed, feeling the play in her bonds. They'd learned quickly that if he tied her down tightly on the narrow mattress, she couldn't get her legs apart enough for him to take her. He hadn't made that mistake twice.
He slid his hand up the inside of her leg, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. As he reached her inner thigh, she felt his finger brush up, along the edge of the loincloth and away from where she needed him. Softly, she whimpered as she rocked her hips, hoping to draw his attention to her center.
"So, Princess," he sneered in his best Delft Phaltar imitation. "The Overlord will pay me well to return you to him. But he did not specify what condition to return you in, just that you be alive and in one piece."
"You'll pay for this, Phaltar," she spat.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But that is for then, not now." His hand slid up to her bare breast, caressing it. The nipple was achingly hard, waiting for him. His finger brushed across it, a tiny detonation of sensation, and her breath caught.
"You...you...yeep!" Her voice turned into a squeak as he pinched the nipple, hard, not a playful pinch. Her breathing was coming more heavily as her body reacted to his touch, to her helplessness, to his smug knowledge that she was all his and that this was what she wanted.
His fingers slid back down her stomach, stirring up butterflies in their wake, before reaching her loincloth. "I think I shall take part of my reward now," he said, his finger sliding along the edge of the red cloth that was her only covering.
"Do your worst," she said, but her voice was shaky and filled with need.
"On the contrary. I shall do my very best, so that even after the Overlord turns you into one of his pleasure slaves, you will know that no other touch can compare to that of Delft Phaltar." He flipped the loincloth up, over her leg, so it hung off the bed to her side. She could feel his gaze upon her, on the small thicket of curly black hairs she fought to keep trimmed and the parted, slick lips below it.
The back of his hand slid down her inner thigh, starting just below her crotch, and then his fingers came back up the inside of her other leg, up from her knee to what felt like micrometers from where she wanted them. "Your time as the Overlord's pleasure slave will be short, I'm sure," he continued, although she was having a hard time focusing on his words. "You are too strong-willed to remain subservient for long, and eventually you will annoy him so much that he will order your execution."
"That won't take long at all," she gasped as his fingers continued their dance around her most intimate parts, teasing her but denying her any relief. "He can't break me. And neither can you."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," he said. "Regardless, I shall begin your training here. Beg for me to take you."
"Never," she said, trying to steady her voice.
"Such defiance from one in such dire straits. Sondar Stibb is lost forever, and your precious Alliance Space Fleet is shattered. You are helpless before me, unable to resist. And now your own body betrays you."
She tried to protest, but her voice refused to cooperate. Her mouth hung open as her hips rocked, chasing the sensation that he was denying her. Her eyes were locked on his as he loomed over her. His mouth turned up in a cruel smile, as his other hand reached over to her breast. He rolled the nipple in his fingers, and she gasped.
"It's so simple," he purred. "Just surrender. Your body clearly wants this." Both of his hands were playing her like an instrument now, one continuing its maddening circle up one thigh and down the other, while the other hand pinched, rolled, twisted, pulled, and tweaked her nipple. Her thoughts were jumbled, unable to focus on anything but his touch on her over-sensitive skin. The hand between her thighs moved to their junction instead. One finger, circling her center, daringly slid through her damp lips before narrowly avoiding her clitoris. Her back arched as she chased the stray digit, and her captor laughed evilly.
"Perhaps you can beg me to keep you. I'd be less harsh with you than the Overlord. You'd have to make it worth my while, though." His finger returned, probing her slick opening, which offered no resistance to the intrusion.
She tried to make her voice work, corralling her thoughts until she could form a word. She closed her eyes to help herself focus. "Please?" she whispered.
"You can do better than that, Princess," he said, his hand returning to its orbit around her thighs as the other palmed her breast. "Beg for what you want."
She didn't care about the role-play, or the costume, or anything right now except ending the teasing and getting the orgasm her body desperately wanted. She swallowed, getting control of her voice a bit more now that he wasn't being quite as distracting with his hands. "Take me, Master," she whispered, her throat dry. "Please fuck me."
"Well, then. Are you mine?"
"Yes," she breathed. "All yours, Master."
"Very good," he said. He removed his hands, and she opened her eyes to see him press in on the plastic codpiece of his armor. With a *click* it detached, and he pulled it aside to reveal a familiar cock, the auburn forest of curls around it just peeping around the edges of the opening. He braced himself with one hand by her shoulder as he climbed between her legs, which she opened as wide as the bonds would allow. He slid down and guided himself into her as she held her breath in anticipation.
"Mine," he said as he slid into her. It was so good, he fit her just right, he filled her just right. She felt him on top of her, the hard plastic of his armor pushing her down into the bed briefly before he lifted himself up. He kept one hand by her head to brace himself, as his other slid between them, seeking her clitoris.
He found it, and her body jerked toward his, as her back arched and her mouth hung open silently. There was no world outside of the sensation, his cock moving inside her, his hands on her, the hard plastic on his thighs pressing hers apart. The orgasm she knew was coming swept over her as her limbs fought the bonds holding them fast, as she tried to wrap her arms and legs around him and merge them together.
He froze, impaling himself inside of her, as his peak joined with hers. For a timeless moment, they were united and the rest of the world didn't matter. Nothing mattered except their love and the feeling of closeness with each other.
Then reality intruded. One of the seams on his leg armor was pressing against her thigh in a very uncomfortable manner, and his chest armor was squashing her breasts. "Ow," she said.
He pushed himself up, off of her, and she sighed as his leg moved away from her thigh. "Ow?" he asked.
"Sorry. The armor's a bit uncomfortable from this side."
He laughed. "Oops. Sorry about that." He climbed off of the bed, reaching over to unfasten her ankles from the bed frame. He leaned over her to release the mag-restraints, and she stretched out to enjoy her renewed freedom.
He set his helmet on the desk, then popped the chestplate off, lifting it off like a heavy shirt. The leg armor followed, leaving him in the black underlayer. She could see now that he'd cut a hole in the front of the pants so that the trick with the codpiece would work. He quickly pulled the undershirt and pants off, tossing them into their laundry hamper.
Meanwhile, she pulled off the metal bra and loincloth, setting them on the floor. She stood and picked her robe off a hook to make a quick run to the bathroom down the hall.
Phineas climbed into bed, waiting for Isabella to get back. He'd had time to go brush his teeth while she was in the bathroom.
He looked over at his discarded armor, and Isabella's discarded costume, and sighed. He'd really hoped to show her off tonight, to give her the experience of being his slave in public that she seemed to want so much. This time hadn't worked, clearly, even if they'd made up for it on the way home.
The door clicked open, and Isabella came in, wrapped in her fluffy white robe. She closed the door behind her, then took off the robe, revealing her nude form beneath as she hung it by the door. He was still - always - amazed at how beautiful she was.
She joined him in bed, cuddling close to him. After a scene, he knew she always liked to be held for a while as she came down from the sensory highs.
"I'm sorry about tonight," he said. "I..."
"It's okay. I thought about it in the bathroom, and I think I figured out what went wrong," she said.
"Oh?"
She gently stroked his chest, running her fingers long the line of hair down the center. "I wasn't there as a slave, and you weren't there as my master."
He thought for a moment. "I wasn't? You're right, I wasn't. I was there as your boyfriend, not your master."
"And it wasn't the right place. But I think it would have gone better with you more clearly as my master."
"So would you want a costume that was more of an active master/slave pair? Or would this one work if I were ordering you to wear it?"
"Not sure yet." She paused, then added, "But we've got time. Next Halloween isn't for a year, and it's not like I can just dress up in a Slave Princess Allyra costume to go to class."
"True. But there's a science-fiction convention on campus in January, and it has a costume contest."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Oh," she whispered.
"So it's a safer place to try it. In case you want to be paraded in front of the campus in your little loincloth with your wrists bound in the mag-restraints."
She squirmed a bit. "Could we add underwear to the costume?"
He gave her an evil smile. "Slaves don't get underwear."
She leaned up and kissed him in response. "Thank you, Master," she whispered. “That was what I needed you to say.”
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