Chained, Part Nine
I heard the tell-tale rattle of clothespins on a line and whined a bit into my gag. Penthouse had grabbed the zipper off of the desk and from my soon-to-be-proven-correct assumption, handed it off to Popcorn.
“What you do,” he explained, placing a hand on my shoulder, “is you just put them all over on her breasts, then yank the end of the string, and they all come off.”
Popcorn was a little ruthless. She went excruciatingly slow, debating out where each one should go, so I was stuck sitting with two particularly harsh ones near the skin over my collarbones. Eventually, I couldn’t take it and just hit the buzzer.
They took care to remove the blindfold and the gag, making sure I was all right, and took off the clothespins gently by hand. I was a little disappointed I hadn’t had the guts to ride it out, but I figured it was better to know my limits.
Penthouse untied my legs and I got up to my feet, adjusting my nightgown and giving Popcorn a hug. We thanked each other for a fun experience and she left, having somewhere else to go.