Prize Display
 
The vibrating stopped. That was weird. She couldn’t remember a time before the vibrating. It was the only thing that there had been in her world for quite some time - well, besides the tight squeeze all around her body, and, with her nose plugged, the constant effort that breathing through the tiny little tube, only to get half-recycled, half-drugged air back from the inflated sack around her, leaving her in an aroused and bleary daze around the clock. These were things that had faded away in her… how long had it been? No way to tell. They had faded away in the incessant buzz and twist of soft, wet silicone around her cock. It never stopped, and she never came. At one point she had been able to sleep when she was exhausted, and at least the oblivion was a respite, but lately the incessant tease was finding its way into her dreams too.
 
The buzzing had stopped in her boots, too. Everything was still, and silent, and tight. After a few moments she tried to tug, and as always, it did nothing but bounce her gently in the cradle the straps formed. She had no idea how long this went on for. Maybe she fell asleep in that time, she couldn’t be sure.
 
“Missed me, pet?” a voice purred in her ear, husky and menacing. She’d forgotten what sound felt like. It made her jump, and her containing bubble swung in its rocker again, a mere inch up and down. “Now, now. Settle down. You should be grateful for the personal attention you’re about to receive.”
 
Nightshade tugged on a small plastic zipper around the head of Spitfire’s cock, where a flap covered the flat head neatly, and could be lifted for access, while still being flush with the bubble restraining her. She took her time, letting the first wafts of cool air occupy her full attention while she lifted the small flap of rubber and silicone off. Her flare was hot, and lube and precum dribbled out readily. Nightshade danced her gloved fingers around the thing. Spitfire twisted her hips with strength she’d forgotten, and the fingers lifted away.
 
“Do you want it or not, my toy?” Desperate, Spitfire settled down again. Her leg continued to twitch and her arms shiver as the fingers resumed their gentle dance, though minor enough that the pressure of the rubber around her was enough to render it null. “There’s a good girl.” Spitfire whined, voicelessly. She was rewarded for her patience with the press of two soft, wet, warm things right to the middle of her cock head. Nightshade dragged out the gentle kiss for several minutes, all the while watching her captive whine and squirm. When it ended, the fingers returned. Or rather, one finger returned, circling her urethra. “Let’s see how long you can be good, eh?”