stories – Ivy

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 Eight

With the blindfold off, I could see the room had a few clusters of people. In one corner, as I had been told, a girl was being hit with a rather nasty whip. In another, a domme was running a knife over a bound man’s chest. I looked over to Craftsmate and he grinned, tapping the flat rubber end of my gag with his index finger. “Is that better?” I nodded.

I nearly jumped when I heard a voice on the other side of me. “Oh, she can see now,” said a girl seated on the couch beside me, presumably to Craftsmate. I felt my cheeks reddening under the hood and realized that people had been looking at me while I was blindfolded.

Craftsmate smiled and clapped my knee, “yeah. I figured she would want to watch.”

Before I could even recover from the humiliation of one person talking right about me as if I wasn’t even there, the domme who had been doing the knifeplay walked over to the couch. She introduced herself to Craftsmate and the two started to have a conversation, all the while I sat there in a silence enforced by the large rubber cock sitting on my tongue.

At one point, she looked over and smirked at me in the sort of acknowledgement that, while I was in this position, I wasn’t going to receive any kind of formal greeting. The degree of condescension in her smile was indescribable.