Vi knelt, in a very rare state of subservience. Her energy was wound up, tight and cuffed and so very ready for action, even her tattoos looked ready to leap off her back and full steam ahead.
Caitlyn thumbed a page in her women’s studies book and hummed through a shot of whiskey neat. The kind of drink only a fissure folk could down without wanting to bark at the sting.
“Says here more women turn to a life of crime than ever explore their kinks. Isn’t that interesting, baby?”
You nod, eyes mesmerized on Vi’s flexing back. With her arms tied back she looks absolutely shredded in the low light.
“I wonder, do they choose jail for the thrill, or for the fear of letting their desires free.” Caitlyn mused to herself.
“What do you think, pet?”
Vi clenched her hands into fists.
This was a rare night. To see someone so powerful trade all they had worked for, fought for, lost for, just to end up back at the feet of the Topsiders elite, it was mesmerizing.
“Is it comfort, that motivates their mediocrity, or cultural conditioning? Hmm?”
Caitlyn turned the remote up a notch just with the flick of her finger.
Vi moaned low, and hung her head.
Hextech had come such a long way since its initial stages. Now remotes with runes could be purchased and sold alongside devices that moved on their own accord.
“Oh Violet, the books I plan to read to you, while you’re like this, absolutely under my spell.”
Caitlyn betrayed her nonchalance with a lip bite and small giggle. She enjoyed this change of authority too much to hide it.
You feel equal parts jealous and thankful that this lecture has been reserved for Councilor Kiramman and her fiance. The hex-strap is only on its second setting of many more runes to go.
“Darling,” you and Vi both perk up at this phrase, and Vi looks absolutely lost when Caitlyn tugs you into her lap. Like she owns you. Like this office is hers, and not Vi’s. Like her lap has only one purpose and that is to be a throne for you to sit upon and oversee her kingdom.
Vi wallows on the rug and her steely eyes shine behind wild hair.
Caitlyn parts your hair away from your face and caresses your jaw—just like Vi would have if she wasn’t clipped into the harness and literally bolted down to the floor with a sick tease of rope.
“I’m feeling peckish. What do you say we go somewhere new? Just the two of us?” Caitlyn nods along as if there is only one answer that you could possibly think of giving.
“I, well,”
“Marvellous. Be a dear and fetch my coat?”
She pats your bottom before you prepare to leave.
“You’ll be here for us, won’t you Violet? I’m expecting Doctor Medarda to drop off that grant proposal in half an hour. It will need to be signed for, I’m sure you’ll find your way out of those restraints before that time.”
Vi’s shoulders struggle and she clenches her jaw in frustration.
Caitlyn smiles in a way that makes your skin ache to be touched. If this is how you feel, Vi’s helplessness must be unbearable.
“Oh don’t cry for our pet.” she tuts your quivering bottom lip, “I warned the Hound I would tie her up if she roughoused with you, and see where it has gotten her. My coat, love.”
You double your efforts to fetch the coat, cloak more like.
Vi joked the high collar and padded shoulders gave Caitlyn a storybook villain appearance.
And oh how she would eat her words just to be able to remove the garment from her fiance’s lithe back. Trace her lips down the ridges in her spine, taste the divot just center of her hips,
“Violet? Did you hear me?”
“Hmmph,” Vi wriggled and shook her head vehemently.
“Honestly, if you insist on drooling like a mutt, you might as well lick my shoe and put it to good use.”
Caitlyn with a leg made for dancers and devils alike pressed down on Vi’s shoulder, until she had no choice but to bend.
“I’m waiting,”
“Cait,”
The Kiramman matriarch gave you a disappointed brow raise.
“Manners—” she chided in a tone reserved only for children and apprentices.
“Councilor Kiramman, we don’t want to miss our reservation.”
Vi’s face stopped short of the chrome boot toe, already polished enough to see her blown pupils and furrowed brow.
“They can’t start without us, love. It is our anniversary, after all.”
As head of Zaun security, Vi would be expected to make an appearance.
“Won’t they toast for Vi—I mean the Hound?”
Caitlyn smiled all canines and wolfish deliverance. “I certainly hope so.” She stepped around Vi carefully, like a hunter surveying their newest tripped snare.
“And the Hound, will,” you tried to be fair to Vi, at least offer her some sense of choice in staying out of the spotlight.
“—Stay tied at home, until manners are learned.” Caitlyn agreed.
Just to give her pet a real treat, she raised the dial two more notches.
Vi shook and sweat under the teasing pulse from the hex-strap.
“Oh Violet, you know it pains me to leave you behind.” Caitlyn said with mock-sympathy, though you saw the mirth in her upturned lips.
“I only wish you had thought twice before defying my orders.”
This was how you worked out most disputes. Vi was of the Lanes, through and through, and no amount of legal paperwork or pledging allegiance to the Council of Piltover and Zaun could change that natural drive in her for justice.
More times than you could count, Caitlyn was on the receiving end of the Hound’s persuasions, the hex-strap almost a natural extension of her hips while you kissed Caitlyn and kept her quiet from prying ears at the Councilor’s private office.
It would be your turn soon enough, to wear the cloak or Vi’s pit fighter jacket. To command respect through fear, or through ferocity.
And you couldn’t wait to have both your girls kneeling and breathless and ready to receive everything you could give them.