He came back around in front of her, gaze dark, intent, and focused on her breasts. Neediness surged as he cupped one mound, lifting it with a motion she was very familiar with, and automatically held her breath, waiting for the bite of the clamp he was holding.
The pinch gripped... and disappointed. Domi’s breath puffed out in surprise. Staring down at the rubber-tipped adjustable clamp, she immediately realized, while it was on its tightest setting, the tension was nothing near what she was used to. Her nipple throbbed slightly in the confines of the prongs but didn’t really hurt.
It didn’t burn.
It didn’t do anything to ease the itchy, aching need inside of her.
She stared in near disbelief as Master Mitch pinched her other nipple with a matching clamp, the silver chain hanging down between them swinging, the cool metal brushing against her stomach. Saying the clamps ‘pinched’ her nipples was too generous. It was more like a slightly overenthusiastic hug.
What the hell?
Mitch
The baffled, almost insulted expression on Domi’s face was almost too much for Mitch to bear. She was staring at the clamps on her nipples as if they were a puzzle she was trying to solve. Mitch actually had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.
He’d purposefully chosen the weakest clamps he’d ever used on her, ones that would tease rather than satisfy. For a newbie sub or one unused to pain play, these clamps on their tightest setting would be a punishment. For an experienced masochist like Domi, they were more like jewelry.
It also meant he’d be able to leave them on her for longer than some of the harsher clamps he could have used.
“Bend over at the waist, sweetheart,” he ordered. Domi’s gaze snapped up to his, searching for answers, but he kept his expression carefully blank. Her brow furrowed in the center, but she bent forward. “Keep your hands where they are.”
“Yes, Sir,” she muttered, her tone perilously close to being disrespectful.
Smack!
The hard swat to the back of her thigh made her jump and moan, low and needy. With her hands behind her head, she was bent at an almost ninety-degree angle, giving him complete access to her ass and pussy. With her legs spread, he could see the glistening folds of her pussy, soaked with arousal, and the crinkled hole of her anus above.
Scooping up the lube and plug he’d picked out, he opened the packages, making her wait, letting her squirm. Her buttocks jiggled as she shifted her weight side to side. Pulling on a rubber glove, Mitch flipped open the lid of the lube.
“Are you feeling remorseful yet, Domi-Darling?” he asked as he smeared the ginger lube over the plug. As plugs went, this one wasn’t very big, maybe a little over an inch in diameter and about four inches long. Definitely not the biggest thing she’d ever had up her ass.
Like the clamps, that was the point.
“I already regretted my words before we even stepped in here, Sir,” she retorted. Her curls shook as she tried to look over her shoulder. The movement nearly made her lose her balance, but she quickly settled back into place.
“Ah, but regret and remorse are different, sweetheart.” He placed the tip of the plug against her anus, placing his ungloved hand on her lower back to help her balance and stay in place. “Deep breath.”
When she breathed out, Mitch pushed the plug into place in one swift motion. Domi squeaked, rocking forward. She would have lost her balance if it hadn’t been for his hand pressing down, holding her in place.
The base of the pretty pink plug looked so cute nestled between her cheeks, just above her swollen folds. Mitch took a moment to admire the view as he stripped off the rubber glove he’d used to protect his hand from the lubricant, but not because it would hurt his hand. He didn’t want to get the lube anywhere but exactly where he meant it to go.
Domi was acquainted with ginger lube, although he hadn’t used it in a while.
After a few moments, she gasped, her buttocks clenching, and he heard her mutter something under her breath, too soft for him to actually hear it. Mitch grinned. This was so much fun, and he was just warming up.
Chapter Four
Domi
Fucking ginger lube.
She didn’t need to ask Master Mitch why the slight burn from the plug’s insertion was increasing instead of decreasing.
Intensifying.
Tingling.
Driving her wild while doing nothing to satisfy her.
The actual size of the plug had barely even stung, nestling inside easily, making her feel filled but not full. She wanted to be full so bad, even if it was her ass, not her pussy.
Her empty, needy, clenching pussy.
A low chuckle behind her reminded her Master Mitch was watching the show. Watching her squirm, well aware of how unsatisfactory the nipple clamps and plug were for her. The growing burn from the lube was making her pant—with desire, not with pain.
Fucking sadist.
He was getting off on this, even if she wasn’t. Domi hadn’t even considered he might torment her with less, not more. It was devilish and frustrating as hell. Especially since he was still just standing there doing nothing.
“Is this it, Sir?” she asked, taunting. “I thought you could dish out more than this.”
Master Mitch laughed aloud. Some Doms were all business inside a scene, but not him. He wasn’t afraid to laugh, and it never took away from his confidence or authority. In fact, his wicked sense of humor often made scening with him more fun. Sort of. Fun after the fact.
In the middle of it, sometimes it felt more like torture.
Like right now.
“All right then, Domi-Darling,” he drawled, and she heard him pat the wood of the table beside them. “Up on the table.”
Rat fink bastard. He helped her onto the table since she was petite enough to need the assistance. He also thoroughly enjoyed watching her ‘hop’ up and land on her butt, pushing the plug farther in and making her muscles squeeze around it in reaction. Domi’s breasts heaved, her nipples tingling from the clamps, but nothing more.
The polished wood was smooth under her back as he laid her down. There was a myriad of ways the straps attached to the table could be attached. Domi was quickly spread out in an X shape, straps over her arms, legs, and middle, so the only parts of her body she could move more than a couple of centimeters were her head, fingers, and toes.
She wriggled, testing the boundaries, but the leather straps were secure. Master Mitch’s fingers trailed over her breasts, teasing them with his light touch. Domi couldn’t even arch her back, thanks to the strap over her rib cage, holding her in place. When his fingers brushed over the sensitive tips of her nipples, she groaned in frustration, squirming even more.
“So, is this when the real punishment starts, Sir?”
The sassy question made him grin again. Instead of pinching her nipples, tugging the chain, or doing anything that would make her feel more, he moved his hand away. Her nipples throbbing with the need for more stimulation, she bit her lower lip to keep from begging for it. One blond eyebrow arched, his gaze boring into her, and Domi knew she wasn’t fooling him one bit.
“Ah, poor little masochist... is this not enough for you?”
Domi pressed her lips together to keep from answering. She was pretty sure that was a trick question.