to obey him, even if I didn’t
want to.
I could use a safe word or at least say “yellow” and asked
to slow everything down. But I didn’t want to do that. As much as he scared me,
as tired as I now was, Master Clay had also showed me that BDSM was exactly
what I wanted, what I needed. No vanilla sex with a stupid college frat boy
would ever make me feel the way he just did.
I hadn’t seen the stocks when I first walked in because they
were in shadow. When I came out of the bathroom Master Clay went to a panel on
the wall and adjusted the lights. Once he did I could see it—a waist-high
structure made of wood. He lifted off the upper bar and motioned for me to get
in place. I balked.
There were three semicircular indentations—a larger one in
the middle and two others each about a foot and a half away from the center.
“Leona, place your neck in the center cutout and your wrists
in each of the others.”
“Master,” I whispered, letting my feelings show in my voice.
I was reluctant to do what he ordered but reluctant to completely defy him.
“Leona, the spanking I planned is for our mutual enjoyment.
Do not make it turn into true punishment. If I were forced to punish you on
your first time I doubt you would ever come back. Or that you would ever seek
out a master again.”
There was cool warning in his words and I shivered.
I lowered my neck reluctantly into the semicircular opening,
then placed my wrists in the matching spots. The inside of the cutouts were
padded with leather. That plus the collar and wrist cuffs meant that I was
fairly comfortable. At least this time my neck was bending forward instead of
back.
Master Clay fitted the upper piece into place and then
bolted it closed. I heard the clunk of wood pegs. The posture belt I still wore
meant that I had to keep my back flat, which thrust my ass up and out. I was
sure that wasn’t by chance.
The stocks acted as a blinder, preventing me from seeing
anything that was happening to my body, and I was left staring at a cage in the
far corner and trying not to imagine myself locked inside it. The plug was
still firmly embedded within me, but Master Clay had removed the egg before
releasing me from the St. Andrew’s Cross. Now he stroked the curve of my ass,
his hand firm and warm.
When he grabbed the base of the plug I clenched. As scared
as I had been to have the plug inserted I was now reluctant to have it removed.
The constant stimulation it provided help me stay in the right mindset, had
helped me lower my head into the stocks. Without the plug I think my body would
have shut down, rejecting any more stimulation.
“Relax while I pull it out.”
I did my best but Master Clay had to tug it a few times
before it pulled free of my body.
Master Clay reached under me, lifting and squeezing my
breasts. He stroked the tight points of my nipples.
Tired as I was, as secretly reluctant as I was to start up again,
my body had different ideas. With just a small amount of stimulation, the
intense need that had burned within me flared to life once more.
It was not the physical things he would do to me that I
should be afraid of, but his ability to touch this intense, dark part of my
soul.
“These are simple tweezer clamps.” Master Clay dangled them
where I could see. “I can adjust and control the tightness. Since this is your
first time will set them for just enough to stimulate you but not add true pain
that you will need to deal with.”
I felt the cold metal as he laid the clamps, attached by a
chain, on my back. He then tugged and rolled each of my nipples, playing with
them until they felt swollen. Chain clinked as he lifted the clamps off my back
and then there was pressure on each nipple. When he stood I could feel the
gentle weight of the clamps and chain and wished I could see my breasts. I knew
from looking at pictures on Tumblr what tweezer clamps were and could imagine
what my breasts looked like—the long metal sticks dangling from
want to.
I could use a safe word or at least say “yellow” and asked
to slow everything down. But I didn’t want to do that. As much as he scared me,
as tired as I now was, Master Clay had also showed me that BDSM was exactly
what I wanted, what I needed. No vanilla sex with a stupid college frat boy
would ever make me feel the way he just did.
I hadn’t seen the stocks when I first walked in because they
were in shadow. When I came out of the bathroom Master Clay went to a panel on
the wall and adjusted the lights. Once he did I could see it—a waist-high
structure made of wood. He lifted off the upper bar and motioned for me to get
in place. I balked.
There were three semicircular indentations—a larger one in
the middle and two others each about a foot and a half away from the center.
“Leona, place your neck in the center cutout and your wrists
in each of the others.”
“Master,” I whispered, letting my feelings show in my voice.
I was reluctant to do what he ordered but reluctant to completely defy him.
“Leona, the spanking I planned is for our mutual enjoyment.
Do not make it turn into true punishment. If I were forced to punish you on
your first time I doubt you would ever come back. Or that you would ever seek
out a master again.”
There was cool warning in his words and I shivered.
I lowered my neck reluctantly into the semicircular opening,
then placed my wrists in the matching spots. The inside of the cutouts were
padded with leather. That plus the collar and wrist cuffs meant that I was
fairly comfortable. At least this time my neck was bending forward instead of
back.
Master Clay fitted the upper piece into place and then
bolted it closed. I heard the clunk of wood pegs. The posture belt I still wore
meant that I had to keep my back flat, which thrust my ass up and out. I was
sure that wasn’t by chance.
The stocks acted as a blinder, preventing me from seeing
anything that was happening to my body, and I was left staring at a cage in the
far corner and trying not to imagine myself locked inside it. The plug was
still firmly embedded within me, but Master Clay had removed the egg before
releasing me from the St. Andrew’s Cross. Now he stroked the curve of my ass,
his hand firm and warm.
When he grabbed the base of the plug I clenched. As scared
as I had been to have the plug inserted I was now reluctant to have it removed.
The constant stimulation it provided help me stay in the right mindset, had
helped me lower my head into the stocks. Without the plug I think my body would
have shut down, rejecting any more stimulation.
“Relax while I pull it out.”
I did my best but Master Clay had to tug it a few times
before it pulled free of my body.
Master Clay reached under me, lifting and squeezing my
breasts. He stroked the tight points of my nipples.
Tired as I was, as secretly reluctant as I was to start up again,
my body had different ideas. With just a small amount of stimulation, the
intense need that had burned within me flared to life once more.
It was not the physical things he would do to me that I
should be afraid of, but his ability to touch this intense, dark part of my
soul.
“These are simple tweezer clamps.” Master Clay dangled them
where I could see. “I can adjust and control the tightness. Since this is your
first time will set them for just enough to stimulate you but not add true pain
that you will need to deal with.”
I felt the cold metal as he laid the clamps, attached by a
chain, on my back. He then tugged and rolled each of my nipples, playing with
them until they felt swollen. Chain clinked as he lifted the clamps off my back
and then there was pressure on each nipple. When he stood I could feel the
gentle weight of the clamps and chain and wished I could see my breasts. I knew
from looking at pictures on Tumblr what tweezer clamps were and could imagine
what my breasts looked like—the long metal sticks dangling from
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