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Obediently she cupped her breasts, drawing them up and together. “Please, Mr Tomlinson, will you put the clamps on me?”
“It will be my pleasure.”
The first touch of her boss’s fingers on her skin sent shockwaves through her.
Before tonight, she would have said she’d never allow him to touch her. Now she was all but begging him to.
He played with her nipples, his touch extra light. She moaned, wanting more.
“I’ll set the pace,” he told her.
“Yes, Mr Tomlinson.” Unable to help herself, she swayed towards him.
“So needy.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He pinched her nipples then released the tips, only to grasp them again and roll the swollen peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
“Lovely manners you have, little one.”
With her curves, she wasn’t accustomed to being called little. Near him, she did feel small. He could tuck her under his chin and hold her close…not that she wanted him to, she told herself.
Most men gave her nipples a few perfunctory tugs, but he turned this torment into an art form.
He responded to her unspoken demand by increasing the pressure, making her nipples fully erect.
“Now they’re ready. Keep holding your breasts,” he instructed.
He let her go only long enough to take hold of her right nipple, extend it and affix the rubber tip.
“Ah!” She sucked in a breath.
“More than you thought?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Can you bear it?”
The shock of it had already begun to fade as he took hold of her left nipple and stroked it, distracting her. “I’m fine, Mr Tomlinson,” she said finally.
“You have expressive features. I’ll have to watch you more carefully when we’re together outside of here.”
“I’m better at hiding my thoughts when I’m not aroused sexually,” she told him. Before she was mentally prepared, he attached the second clamp, compressing her nipple.
She closed her eyes.
“At some point, I may add weights to them,” he told her when she had centred herself and looked at him again.
“If it pleases you,” she said.
“I’ll give you a few more moments to adjust before I amuse myself with your tits.” He took his seat again. “When you’re ready, remove the rest of your clothes.”
She worked down the ankle straps of her platform shoes then kicked them aside. The movement caused the clamps to sway, so she moved a bit slower.
“Beautiful,” he approved. “Nothing pleases me more than this.”
“Mr Tomlinson?”
“Your femininity. Your graceful motions.”
Under his scrutiny, she removed the panties. She stood before him in nothing but the garter belt and black stockings.
“Nicely groomed,” he said.
From his tone, she couldn’t tell whether he approved of her shaving or not. She settled for saying, “Yes.”
“I like my subs completely naked so I can see every red mark. Remove the rest of your lingerie if you please, Ms Carpenter, so we can get on with it.”
She released each clasp and rolled down her stockings, one at a time, again taking care to minimise extra movements. Then she unfastened the hook behind her waist. She allowed the last of her garments to pool on the floor.
Under the scrutiny of his intense gaze, she fought the onslaught of nerves that urged her to cover herself.
“Very pretty,” he said.
His tone sounded so sincere she believed him. Either that, or he was a skilled Dominant who knew how to put a sub at ease. It didn’t matter. She gained confidence from his compliment.
“Turn all the way around. Slowly.”
When she faced him again, he nodded in apparent satisfaction.
“As I’ve been fantasising about it, we’re going to start with an old-fashioned over-the-knee spanking. But first…”
He stood again and retrieved some substantial-looking weights.
She reminded herself she’d given tacit agreement, but that didn’t stop her from swallowing deeply as he approached her.
“I don’t mind tears,” he reminded her.
“Do you have onions in your pockets, Mr Tomlinson? That’s the only way you’ll see me cry.”
