After he tortured her a little, of course.
“Very pretty,” Mitch said, giving one of her nipples a little pinch. Domi squeaked in reaction, the tiny bite of pain only a fraction of what she craved. “But I think they could use more decoration.”
Yes, please, and thank you.
Instead of getting right to it, Mitch cupped her small breasts in his hands, leaning down for another kiss as he fondled her. Domi moaned against his lips, rocking forward and thrusting her chest into his hands. He dug his fingers into her flesh, trapping her nipples between his thumbs and palms, squeezing them tight enough, she whimpered. The little buds throbbed in his grip, craving more.
The increasing discomfort made her squirm even more, her pussy creaming in anticipation.
Pulling away from hers, he bent down to kiss the budded tips. Long fingers plucked and twisted one nipple while his teeth and lips pulled at the other. The sensation shot straight through to her core, leaving her writhing against him. She pressed her thighs together as her pussy pulsed needily, hungry for stimulation. Mitch switched breasts, going back and forth between them until she was whimpering from the need growing inside her.
“Master Mitch, please,” she begged—she knew he liked it when she begged. “I need more.”
With a chuckle and one last little nip that made her gasp, Mitch straightened and went over to where he’d left his bag. Her body hummed with anticipation of whatever toy he was looking for.
Mitch
Damn, he wanted Domi bad. After playing together for so long, they knew just what the other liked, and he knew she was pushing him a little by begging. She wasn’t trying to top from the bottom exactly, but she knew he would give her more of what she wanted if she begged. Was it his fault she sounded so nice when she was whimpering and pleading?
Picking up a nasty pair of clover clamps and an adjustable spreader bar with ankle cuffs, Mitch returned to his beauty-in-distress. Her dark eyes lit up when she saw what he was holding.
Such a sweet little pain slut. His cock twitched, throbbing against the inside of his leathers.
Unfortunately, it was going to have to wait. One thing about kink—there tended to be a long build of anticipation, but the payoff was always worth it.
Cupping her breast in his hand, Mitch looked into Domi’s eyes as he closed the silver clamp on her tightly budded nipple.
“Take a deep breath,” he instructed her. The look she gave him made him chuckle. By this time, she knew what to do.
Not breaking eye contact as the pain hit her, he watched her pupils dilate in response to the clamp’s harsh pinch. Just as quickly, he closed the second clamp over her other nipple and let the chain hanging between them drop. Domi keened a high-pitched moan that left her panting as she adjusted to the pain.
Mitch watched every nuance of her expression, every shudder of her body, his own arousal climbing as he watched her take the pain for him and turn it into her own personal pleasure. If he dipped his fingers between her legs, he knew he’d find her soaking wet, but she’d like that, so instead, he teased her even more by dropping to his knees in front of her and attaching the cuffs of the bar to her ankles. Then he pushed them apart, and Domi sighed. She’d been pushing her legs together, trying to get a little stimulation.
Looking up from his position, he enjoyed the view of her slick pussy and the silver gleaming around her crushed dark red nipples. He reached up and gave the chain a little yank, making Domi squeal. Clover clamps were fun because they tightened every time they were pulled on. They also couldn’t be left on for too long for the same reason, so he’d better get on with it.
“Was it your fault Ana got hurt?” Mitch asked, getting to his feet.
Domi hesitated, and he tugged on the chain again, hard enough to make her yelp.
“No!”
“Tell me.”
“It wasn’t my fault, Master Mitch.” She said the words, but her tone was more questioning, as if she wanted confirmation from him.
“That’s right, it wasn’t your fault.” He ran his fingers over the tip of her nipple extruding from the clamp. Domi shuddered, sucking in a little breath at the sensation. “Now say it like you mean it.”
“It wasn’t my fault.” That was more like it.
“Good girl.” He ran his finger over her other nipple and leaned down to brush his lips over hers. “I’ll go get the strap.”
Domi
Some people might think a leather strap was a real punishment, but it was Domi’s favorite implement. Supple with a nice thuddy quality and just enough sting, and he hadn’t said where he was going to use it.
Probably not her back or ass unless he turned her around.
Her breasts? Maybe. Her already tormented nipples seemed to throb harder at the thought.
Thighs? Definitely a possibility.
Her pussy?
Oh, please.
She needed something there—something to help soothe the itch she couldn’t scratch.
Turning back to her, leather strap in hand, Master Mitch gave her that utterly wicked smile of his that did all sorts of crazy things to her insides. Fear, anticipation, and an erotic heat swept through her body, leaving her tingling and eager. Her nipples throbbed in their confinement, the blood trying to force its way through to the clamped flesh and becoming trapped. Fuck, it was starting to really hurt in such a good way.
“Sweet Domi Darling,” Master Mitch said. “Such a good girl.”
She flushed with pleasure, then braced herself when he positioned himself in front of her before swinging the strap.
Thwap.
It slammed against the tops of her thighs, and she cried out, wrists jerking, the sounds joining with the others in Stronghold’s Dungeon. An erotic symphony of accompaniment to her own squeals and screams, lending her voice to the chorus.
Thwap.
Another, across the same spot, and Domi screamed at the sudden rush of delicious pain burning through her, making her pulse race. She moved her hips, pushing them forward as if begging for more, begging him to strap her higher, across more sensitive flesh… and wasn’t she?
A third snap over the same welted area made her scream again, more tension leaking out of her as tears rolled down her cheeks. Fuck, that hurt! She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears, her nipples throbbing in time with it. The tortured buds felt as if they were about to burst from the force of her blood trying to push into them.
Letting her head fall back, she gasped for breath, shuddering as heat and need swept over her.
The leather strap came up between her legs, landing squarely on her pussy, and Domi’s entire body jerked in reaction. Her clit screamed with ecstatic agony, pussy lips swelling from the blow. Another blow slapped against her pussy with a wet sound, some of her arousal having transferred onto the strap during the first blow. It was exactly what she needed, the pain balancing out that of her nipples, overwhelming her senses and pushing out any lingering guilt and fear from yesterday.
Her legs were lifted, skirt rolling up to her waist, revealing her lack of underwear. Master Mitch ducked under the spreader bar, pushing her back against the hard surface of the wall, taking some of her weight while the rest of her hung from her wrist restraints. Lips came crashing down on hers, swallowing her screams as he lined up his cock with her slick pussy and thrust in hard.