nipple clamps – Page 2

Overwhelmed, Part Four

Before we really got started, Sir left me with the Southern Gentleman for a little bit so that he could use the bathroom. Now alone with SG – my hands cuffed behind my back, ass sore from the beating, lingerie tugged down to the middle of my torso to allow the clamps onto my nipples, jaw a mess of drool from the gag, one of my heels off from all the struggling – I blushed when I realized that he, and Sir, were both still fully clothed and completely put together.

SG looped a finger in the chain that connected my nipple clamps and tugged upwards. I arched my back, straining to relieve some of the pressure, and shrieked behind the gag when one of the clamps slipped off of my nipple.

“Awww. Oh no, poor thing,” SG mocked as I whined behind my gag. He lined the clamp back up with my nipple and tightened it. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut, the soreness in my nipple now compounded by the clamp being reapplied so soon. "Aw, don’t act so put upon,“ he teased and patted my cheek.

I opened my eyes and grimaced at him as he shifted on the couch and picked the riding crop back up. His hand slipped into my hair and he bent me forward, delivering a few sharp hits onto my already raw ass. I cried out, burying my face in his knee. He moved his hand down to cup my face and I could hear Sir enter the room again.

Sir reached down and hauled me up to my feet as if I were a small child, with his hands under my armpits. My other shoe slipped off. As SG rose as well, I felt incredibly small and helpless with them surrounding me, dwarfed by almost a foot by both of them without my heels on.

"You got her back,” Sir commented, and traced a finger over the one hit I had sustained there where I had struggled. I thought Sir was going to make some silly comment about how SG had damaged his property. Instead, he held my chin and tilted my face up so that I was looking SG in the eyes when he asked, “would you like her to suck your cock now?”

It was a game she enjoyed playing when she had an afternoon alone. She had honed the craft well, gradually introducing more complicated ties that threw her into even deeper reaches of helplessness.

Still, she kept the emergency shears close and maintained a few failsafes should her little adventures take a wrong turn.

Despite the provisions, she still managed to immerse herself in the sensation of powerlessness at the hands of an imaginary captor. And, today, with the implementation of the clamps, she felt herself drifting even deeper into the fantasy that she had built.

“You should really put a chain between them.”

Her eyes shot open just in time to watch her roommate swipe the shears out of the way.

“That’s not how these work,” she continued, eliciting a frantic squeal from her bound friend as she tugged the clamps tighter. “See? The chain’s supposed to help increase the pressure as it gets pulled. Make sense?”

And though she grew frantic as she watched her roommate – who she could have sworn would be out for the afternoon – play her fingers over her trapped body, she could not help but grin around the gag as she realized she had gotten exactly what she wanted.

He says he has this fantasy of whoring me out. I’ll admit that maybe, just maybe, I’ve got a little bit of a fantasy about it, too.

“How much would it cost?” I asked.

He smiled, “two hundred dollars.”

“Two hundred dollars?” I exclaimed. “That’s so inexpensive.”

The thing is that making it ridiculously cheap turns him on. He likes the degradation of it. On the other hand, I prefer to feel special and expensive and precious.

“Fine, how much do you think it’s worth?” he asked.

I huffed. “Four million.”

“Nobody pays a four million dollars for that, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “He’ll probably only take ten minutes once he gets his hands on you, anyway."

"And what if he wants an hour?” I pouted.

He smirked. “Nah. Still two hundred.”

It was the first time I had been fucked while I had something in my ass.

We were rough, almost urgent. He fucked me while standing at the side of the bed, holding my legs up against his shoulders and chest. My wrists were tied in front of me. I got subspaced rather fast, falling so deeply I could barely talk.

He kept me there with slaps, with fucking me so hard I cried out, by clamping my nipples and making me hold the chain with my teeth.

Lately, I’ve found that despite some of the roughness involved in the dynamic, there’s these glimmers of sweetness in it that makes me feel close and safe and loved.

“I need you closer,” I gasped out, the chain falling from between my lips.

He leaned down, continuing to fuck me roughly, and kissed my lips and forehead sweetly. And, all kinds of overwhelmed, I melted just a little bit.

Sweetheart is always trying to be a little helping hand around the house. Bless her heart.

“You’ve just got to be more specific the next time you ask to use the strap-on.”

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Nine

When he had finished speaking with the domme, Craftsmate grabbed ahold of the chain between my handcuffs and hitched it up before letting it rest behind my head. As a result, my arms were tugged up and out of the way, hands left to rest on either side of my neck. As I whined into my gag, he hiked my shirt up and fished into his pockets for my nipple clamps from earlier.

He slid the clamps on and smirked. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He pulled me closer and tugged down on the chain. “Aww, does that hurt?” I squealed and nodded. He chuckled. “Well, good.”

Somewhere in the middle of squirming around on the couch while Craftsmate tortured my nipples, I wound up making eye-contact with the guy who had been whipping the girls. He had been watching rather intently while Craftsmate fiddled with the tightness of the clamps, tugged the chain, pinched at the exposed bit of nipple past the end of the clamp. I whined lowly and straightened up a bit, feeling as if I had to comport myself a bit better if another dom was watching me, if not to legitimate Craftsmate’s authority a bit more.

The man smiled and just continued to watch. Craftsmate tugged the chain hard and I screamed behind the rubber cock in my mouth, my eyes squeezing shut from the pain. When I blinked my eyes open, the man’s grin had only curved higher and he was hardly masking a chuckle.

Later, I told Craftsmate about it.

“Oh, yeah,” he said like it was no big deal that a complete stranger had been watching him torture me while I was basically topless. “Whatever. There were people watching you the whole time. When I walked you around the club, when I was watching that girl get whipped.”

Followers, I just can’t.

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Three

Craftsmate had purchased two new items to bring along to the dungeon earlier that week: a black spandex hood with holes for the eyes and another for the nose and mouth and a rubber gag with a cock-like protrusion that got shoved in my mouth. The former was because I had expressed that I was worried about people seeing my face while I did stuff and being ashamed about it, in addition to the fact that I may have a teensy tiny fascination with hoods. The latter was Craftsmate’s idea of a fun surprise which made me blush all kinds of red.

In a matter of moments, I was wearing both of them, in addition to my blindfold. Between the way my head was basically completely encased and the blaring music of the club, I was terribly disoriented. My head was indescribably swimmy and I could barely process what was going on when Craftsmate rolled my skirt up and tucked it into the waistband of my stockings.

He started to spank me. Through the confines of the hood and the bass of the music, I could hear people talking. My cheeks burned and I only blushed deeper when I realized the wetness on my chin was my own drool soaking into the material of the hood.

I moaned lowly around the rubber cock in my mouth when Craftsmate shoved my vibrator down the front of my stockings and turned it on. He alternated between spanking me and adjusting the vibrator from low to high to off, driving me near insane before he pushed me up against the wall.

“Do you like this?” He asked as he adjusted the restraints so my arms were linked together above my head. I nodded and moaned. “Do you feel out of control?” I nodded once more and felt him step away.

For a moment, I was concerned he had actually just left me there and swung my leg out behind me to locate him. He laughed when I tapped his shin.

“Aww, sweetheart,” I could hear him smirking. “Did you think I left you here for somebody to find?” He pulled my blouse out of my skirt and hiked it up. My bra followed and I was grateful to be facing the wall and unable to see if anyone was looking. At first, I wasn’t sure what the sting on my nipples was, but once he started yanking the chain I realized it was the clamps.

He turned the vibrator back on and started spanking me once more. With my arms tied together, I found I could now turn to face him – although I could not see him – and attempt to protect my stinging ass. He would simply grab me by the hips and turn me back around, but as the whole situation sunk in more and more, I found myself stumbling and pacing. I felt like I was floating above myself and the only thing keeping me anchored to the situation was the stinging pain in my ass and nipples and the buzz of the vibrator.

Eventually, Craftsmate turned me to face him, removed the gag and checked in with me. “Do you want to go find a couch for a bit? You did a very good job.”

“No, no,” I replied, panting, “no, I want to keep going. I don’t want this to end yet. Is…is that okay?”

Craftsmate popped the gag back in and turned me back around.

“If they’re really bothering you, sweetheart, I can take the clamps off now,” Penthouse suggested while we were in the pizzeria.

I looked up from my food, “you mean in the bathroom?”

“No, silly,” he laughed. “I’m not going to take you into the bathroom right in front of everyone. That would just be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?"

I huffed and stared down at my hands while he continued to chuckle.

theinfiniteache:

Via vicious-rumors

Easing out the Kinks, Part Five

When we got back into Penthouse’s, his family was home. I hoped the flush had died down in my cheeks as I hung up my coat and we went to go hang out in his bedroom.

While we waited for Craftsmate to arrive, Penthouse received a text from Popcorn. I asked him to say hi for me and he handed me his phone and told me to say hi for myself. For some reason, for how much bravado I can have with men, I get really bashful when it comes to flirting with women. This is especially the case when it comes to Popcorn, which Penthouse finds hilarious. So, he always tries to encourage me to flirt with her a little.

In the middle of this, Craftsmate called and said he was downstairs. Being a little mean, Penthouse put the clamps on my nipples, though significantly looser, and told me I would have to tell Craftsmate all about it as he tucked the chain discreetly into my bra. While I started blushing, Penthouse and I took the elevator down and found him waiting in the lobby.

I was happy to see Craftsmate, but I was unsure how stuff would pan out after some tensions had arisen a few days prior. He gave Penthouse one of those bro hugs and claps on the back before leaning down to kiss me.

The elevator doors closed and we began the slow climb up to Penthouse’s apartment in what was probably the most awkward, loaded elevator rides ever.