The first thing she saw was a pair of jeweled nipple clamps. Green-gray glittering stones that matched her eyes, mixed with silver scrolled beads, dangled below the rubber grippers. There was a note attached to them that she reached in and picked up to bring closer, the beads sliding against her knuckles.
Put these on only snugly enough to fit. Making them tighter is the privilege of a Master, not a sub. No name, but she knew they were from Peter. Each K&A man had their particular “specialty,” when it came to pleasuring a woman, though each was more than capable of taking care of her from head to toe. Peter’s was breasts.
A chain connected the clamps. There was also a chain attached to the middle of that chain, and she realized from the clip at the end it was intended to loop around her collar. It could be shortened as much as desired by reattaching it to any point in the chain. She imagined the pull on her nipples from that and pushed down a little frisson of fear. Peter liked to put clover clamps on Dana, which were painful and she hated as much as loved.
But no one would do anything to Rachel more than she could handle. Her Master knew her, knew what her limits were.
Aware that she was still under scrutiny, she lifted the first clamp. To fit them, she needed to pinch and roll her nipple. Given her current, aroused state, she had to stifle a moan at the spear of sensation that resulted, increasing as she turned the little screw the required number of turns to hold it in place.
After she did the same with the other, she looked at herself in the mirror again. Her nipples were turning a deeper rose from the compression, the sparkling chain draped between them. She connected the other chain to the base of her collar, forming a glittering web over her upper body.
Another deep breath, and back to the box. Next was a silver-coated plug with a flared base that looked like an open rose. There was a small tube of lube to go with it. Ben’s gift, because helping a woman discover just how erogenous an area the ass could be was his special gift.
The plug was a little larger than the one Jon sometimes inserted into her, so Rachel applied the lube generously before attempting to seat it. Once again thinking of her audience, and not allowing herself to be self-conscious, she turned away from the mirror, presenting her backside to view. One knee was slightly bent, her foot going up on the toes as she half-twisted her torso to begin to insert the plug.
She panicked a little, as at first she was too tight. Her arousal had some tension to it. Not necessarily the bad kind of tension. Just the “I’m going on a roller coaster that goes three hundred feet in the air and will come screaming straight back down” kind. An experience that combined excitement and terror into one adrenaline spike, because of what couldn’t be controlled. And these five men were controlled by no one.
Rachel took a few more breaths. Jon told her never to push. Always ease. It would go. She undulated her hips, tossed her hair back, and caught her lip in her teeth as she focused, focused…there. It made it through the first circle of muscles, and then the next, with only a bit of burning and discomfort, a fullness that was unsettling but not unpleasant.
She had to brace herself on the ledge at the additional wave of lust that suffused her as she seated the plug deep. She adjusted it to ease some of the burning, to relax her muscles further, and she bit down on her lip again. Goddess, she wanted to keep moving it, as her pussy reacted with a contraction, more arousal trickling down her thigh. But she knew that wasn’t permitted. Again, Master’s privilege.
Her fingers were shaking as she plucked out the next item. Just looking at it sent an additional spasm through her sex. From Lucas, the male who loved eating pussy better than anything in life. Jon’s description, but it had been echoed in various ways by the others during their social gatherings. Barbecues at Matt’s place, dinners at Lucas and Cass’s. Football games at Dana and Peter’s.
It looked like a large, thin coin, but according to the note with it, it folded over the clit and was pinched into place, a soft, moldable metal.
She experimented and found that was the case, though her breath became even more shallow as she used the pressure of her fingers and made it conform to her shape. Her clit throbbed like a small heartbeat in its hold.
One more gift. A pair of glossy black heels with a silver buckled strap to go around the ankles, like a cuff. The soles were sapphire blue. She was glad they weren’t needle thin stilettos, because she’d likely break her neck on the office carpet, but they were at least three inches. With surprise, she realized they had to be from Matt, because she was certain the enamel box was from Jon.
She sat back on the edge of the couch to put on the shoes, and suppressed a moan at the stimulation of the other three items, which expanded into a whole new wave of sensations when she bent to fasten the buckles on the ankle straps.
She rose, and thought again of her audience, what she could give them. Moving back to the mirror, she re-checked the positioning of the nipple clamps, and slid her fingers over the clit shield, caressing her labia briefly before she twisted around, lifting her backside toward the mirror to verify the positioning of the plug. Then she ran her fingers through her hair, tipping her head back. It was powerful, she realized. Being a purely sensual creature, able to immerse herself in her own eroticism, heightened by the voyeurism of five powerful men.
When she left the room, she walked with heightened awareness of her body’s movements. The sway of her hips, quiver of her breasts, the brush of her hair between her shoulder blades. Her pussy, ass and nipples throbbed from the stimulation of the men’s gifts, and the fluttering silk of the open robe made it even more torturous. Every caress of her skin with the fabric increased the impact of the toys, and what it all meant.
She’d taken off her clothes, put on the toys and robe. Now she walked in high heels across the cream and beige patterned carpet toward the board room where five Masters waited. Four she would serve in whatever way her Master allowed, because he knew the idea of serving them under his command excited her.
The thought stirred things deep down in her soul she’d never been allowed to consider okay, let alone expect to give the man she loved pleasure. Something that wouldn’t harm the love they bore for one another, but would only be another adventure they explored together.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Rachel. Just because he’s okay lending you out like the bitch in heat that you are, doesn’t make it right.
The exorcist-style injection of venom into her brain brought her to a full stop, her body jerking in a sudden, involuntary wave of dismay. The disruptive force poisoned the clean sensuality she’d been experiencing. Ruined it.