With more reluctance than she’d ever shown as a submissive, she slid off the couch and padded over to the nearest basket, grabbing a large pillow.
Bringing it back, she set it down on the tiles in front of Master James’s feet.
“Kneel on the pillow, with your back to me. Good. Now spread your legs so your feet are on either side of mine.”
Beth situated herself, glad for the pillow that protected her knees from the tile. The fact that he cared enough to think of that caused a different kind of warmth to grow within her.
Master James kneaded the nape of her neck, then her shoulders, working his way to her upper arms, pushing the shirt as he went so it fell off, puddling around her wrists and draping over her ass.
“Lean back, rest on my knees. Keep your legs spread.”
In this position Beth couldn’t keep her chin down. Instead she let her head drop back, focusing on the canopy of roses between her and the twilight blue sky.
Master James cupped her jaw, forcing her to drop her head all the way back.
“You have a beautiful neck.” Knuckles trailed down her throat to her collarbones, which he explored thoroughly before moving south. Between one breath and the next Beth was once more flush with need. Her breasts were bare and vulnerable because of her position. As before, he spent time exploring her, this time moving his hands in tandem as he traced the soft crease at the bottom of her breasts, the outer edge of her dusky pink areolas.
When he finally grasped her nipples once more, twisting and tugging, Beth had to reach down and grab his ankles. She didn’t think about it, didn’t question it. She needed something to hold on to, needed the contact with her Master.
“You have incredibly responsive breasts. Have you ever pierced your nipples?”
“No, Master James.” Her words were barely audible amid her deep, heavy breaths.
“They’d be lovely with bar piercings, far enough back not to interfere with these delicious tips.” He flicked the puckered buds with his thumbs before pulling away.
This time she was content to wait, to trust Master James.
“Open your mouth, stick out your tongue.”
The order was so unexpected that Beth shifted her gaze, in time to watch Master James pull a handful of clothespins from the bag the other Dom had brought him.
When he placed the wooden clothespin on Beth’s extended tongue she winced slightly. The innocuous item seemed mundane, but the force of it was stronger than expected, especially on her sensitive tongue. She swallowed, the clothespin clicking against her teeth as she did so.
“You can’t talk now, so you’ll have to tell me with your body what you want.”
Beth nodded once.
With a clothespin in each hand, Master James began to tease her, pinching her lower lip by placing the clothespin on it but not fully releasing it. With that same technique he moved down her upper body, pinching the skin of her shoulders, upper arms, and chest. The feelings were uncomfortable more than painful, and not at all sexy.
Except they were.
Except that as he repeated the path his fingers had taken not so long ago, Beth found herself whimpering helplessly. There was nothing obviously sexual about having a clothespin pinch the skin near her armpit, but each nip caused a corresponding throb in her p*ssy
.
“There are two ways to use clothespins on nipples.” Master James’s words were almost conversational, but his tone was a bit deeper than it had been. “Placing them straight on so they stick out allows for more play—flicking and tugging. Perpendicular to the breast, especially when you first pull the nipple out a bit, leaves the very tip free to be played with.”
The clothespins were set aside as his hands returned to her breasts, this time both hands on one breast, the left kneading the full weight while his right plucked and rolled the nipple.
“And then of course you have to decide if you’re going for the exact tip, or if you’re going back a bit, capturing some of the areola too. That allows for longer wear, but the first version is the stronger sensation.”
Beth was shaking with need and anticipation. Hearing him talk about what he would do, how he would use and play with her, was enough to have her muscles tight with anticipation.
When he pulled his hands back, her left nipple was a hard pink bud, standing up bravely, if foolishly, from her breast.
Master James held the clothespin near her breast in a vertical position, the open mouth poised on either side of her nipple. Beth’s breath shuttered with delicious dread at the pain that was to come.
He released the clothespin, letting it snap closed on the very tip of her breast. Beth yelped, nails digging into his legs through the fabric of his slacks.
Pain radiated from the tip of her breast, causing her to wince even as the feeling shot down to her p*ssy
.
“Don’t fight it. Give in. You can’t stop it, you can’t change it. All you can do is accept it. Know that I want it—I want to see your nipple pink and tight and pinched in the clothespin.”