I love the contrast of that long, gentle stroke with all the harsh metal.
clamps
Full Service, Part Five
Craftsmate slipped the tweezer clamps onto my nipples before picking up the flogger. He started to beat my thighs, stomach and chest in quick, sharp hits. However, I noticed that he was holding back a bit, carefully ensuring that he was not hitting me too hard.
Usually, I appreciated when he did this. I’m not much of a masochist. However, as subspaced as I was, I wanted more. I wanted to go deeper and I wanted it to really, genuinely hurt.
“Harder,” I gasped out. He looked a bit surprised, but he swung the flogger harder. I continued to beg, “harder, please, Sir, please…"
Soon, he rolled me over onto my stomach. I squealed and winced as my clamped nipples pushed into the bed. The pressure sent a sharp, persistent pain through my breasts.
"Ow,” I whined, squirming to try to find a better position. However, the hogtie left me very few options.
“Aww, it hurts?” He teased, attaching the clover clamps to my pussy lips. My breath caught as he gave a sharp tug to the clamps, forcing them to squeeze my labia tighter. He slipped the vibrator underneath me, lining it up with my clit and turning it on low. “Does that make it all better?”
I moaned, grinding up onto the vibrator, “uh huh.” I caught myself. “Yes, Sir.”
Full Service, Part Four
Once I had the panties stuffed into my mouth, Craftsmate ordered me to get down on my hands and knees, lower my chest to the floor and stick my ass in the air. Wordlessly, he picked up the flogger and started to beat my ass and back with it.
I groaned around my panties, my toes clenching with each hit. He leaned down, gathering up the rope and moving me over to the bed. I laid down on my stomach and he took my wrists in his hand, starting to wind the rope around them.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered as he knotted off my wrists. “You get deeper when you do that, don’t you?”
I let my eyes close and allowed my body to relax as he tied each leg individually up to my wrists. That way, he could move the legs apart and fuck me easily when the time came.
When he finished tying my legs, my head was swimming and I could barely will my eyes open. Craftsmate sat at the edge of the bed, playing with my hair as he asked how I was feeling. I attempted to give him an answer, but I wound up mumbling into the panties instead.
“What’d you say, sweetheart?” He asked, pulling the panties out of my mouth.
“I want my vibrator,” I whined out, catching myself and repeating it, “please, Sir, I want my vibrator.”
He laughed, “not yet.” Still chuckling, he got up and went to fetch both pairs of nipple clamps, as well as the vibrator. When he returned to the side of the bed, he dropped the vibrator off to the side and rolled me over onto my back.
“Of course this is how all the other little girls play doctor, silly.”
Oneway ticket to Blush City.
Bonus points: blow out your own candles. Nobody else is going to do it.
Happy birthday, Ivy!
Flash Forward #3
StandardFor the other two flash forwards, click here.
I’m on my knees on the wood floor of my bedroom. My hands are tied in front of me with my thick, grey scarf. I’m nude. Craftsmate is standing in front of me, dressed.
Somehow, things always sort of happen that way.
“Where are your nipple clamps?” He asks.
I whine, flailing my bound hands limply.
He smirks and crouches in front of me, reaching down to twist a nipple. “Where are they?”
“My dresser,” I gasp out. “Top drawer. Pink makeup bag.”
He gets up to his feet and pulls out the makeup bag. Rifling through it, he finds my knockoff hitachi. “Oh, hey, forgot about this,” he says and tosses it onto the bed. I roll my eyes.
“But I’m still sore,” I argue when he takes the clamps out of the bag.
“Oh, you thought they were going on your nipples?” He chuckles as he approaches me. “Turn around.”
Continued from here.
From the cabinet, Penthouse took out a string of plastic clothespins, spaced out on a thin piece of rope. “Do you know what this is?” He asked, shaking it a bit to try to untangle it. I groaned behind the ballgag, starting to feel drool well up on the sides of my mouth.
At the beginning of keeping me gagged, he had slid a buzzer from a Taboo game into my hand and told me to squeeze it if anything was starting to cross a boundary, as a sort of surrogate for a safeword. He told me to test out the buzzer once more before sitting down between my legs and clipping one of the clothespins to my labia.
I squealed into my gag, whining softly as he tried to untangle the line of clothespins, or zipper, with one attached to me. Once he had the next untangled, he clipped it onto my other labia and I winced. “You ready to tell me?” He asked.
I looked over the clothespins still on the line and smirked, shaking my head. I was enjoying how much it hurt. The rest went up to my chest, pinching the skin of my breasts and then my nipples. I whimpered softly as he gave the line a tentative tug and, when he saw I wasn’t going to push the buzzer, he gave a much harder one, pulling all of the clothespins off of me quickly.
I squealed loudly and he grabbed the nipple clamps, sliding them tightly onto my nipples before duct taping over them. I raised an eyebrow as picked up the riding crop and started cropping my taped nipples. “If you don’t tell me,” he said through my squeals, “I’ll move down to your cunt.” He taped it shut and moved between cropping it and cropping my clamped nipples.
Finally, I gave in, tugging hard on my bonds and telling him in a gagged slur that I would show him where the wallet was. He untied me and, with my nipples still clamped, had me fetch it for him and bring it to him.
“Good girl,” he said when I dropped it into his lap. “Now, was that so hard?”
I’ve never been really enthusiastic about ponyplay, but the look of pride on her face and the pride in her posture really attracts me to this. She’s totally unashamed of what she likes. I’m wee bit envious.