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I straightened and picked up the nipple clamps next. I’d taken the plug without so much as a whimper, but the clover-style clamps hurt like hell. I decided to apply both of them at the same time so I could get the initial burst of pain over with more quickly. I pinched my nipples to make them stiff, then opened the clamps over the pointed tips.
When I closed them, the double bite made me hiss. I fell to my knees, sucking in air, wishing Devin was there to yank my hair or shove his cock in my mouth. Pain was easier when you had something to distract you. All I could think about now was the grave agony being done to my nipples, as my ass clenched and spasmed around the steel toy impaling me.
Oh God, it hurts. Oh God, I’m so hot. By that point, I could have reached between my legs, stroked my clit a couple times, and orgasmed, but I didn’t want it to be over that fast. Instead, I knelt with my eyes closed, sinking down into the pain Devin wanted me to endure.
When I could bear to move again, I lifted the manila envelope and opened it. On top, there was a document from a medical office: Devin’s STI test results from earlier in the week. I knew he’d be clean, because I trusted him, so I only glanced at the list of negatives. I was more fascinated by his full name at the top, Devin Miller Kincaid, his January date of birth, and his height and weight. Six-two, one hundred and ninety-seven pounds. It seemed like so much to know about him.
I set that aside, flinching as the movement tugged at my nipples, and picked up the other papers. The first was a cover sheet with Devin’s contact information and a disclaimer that the document therein was subject to the strictest privacy. I sat back on my heels and flipped to the next page to find a list that was more abbreviated than I’d expected. My ass clenched around the plug as I read the first line: Rules of The Gallery.
Number one: All submissives must be accompanied by a sponsor who will manage their conduct and care. No unsponsored submissives will be admitted. Beside that, Devin had written, I’m going to sponsor the shit out of you.
I smiled, excited by his annotation, and moved to the next one.
Number two: Any submissive brought into The Gallery shall be considered communal property and shared in any way her sponsor desires. Again, he’d added his own note: Considering the scene you were in when I met you, this shouldn’t be a problem.
Number three: The Gallery is a no-safe-word zone. The submissive’s limits will be determined by her sponsor. All he added to that one was a rough sketch of a skull and crossbones.
Number four: All submissives must strictly adhere to The Gallery’s dress code.
He hadn’t added anything to that, but he’d already offered to take me to a fitting on Tuesday, and I could learn more then. I assumed my “uniform,” at the very least, would provide access for things like anal plugs and nipple clamps. I sighed and did another horny squirm, ready to masturbate myself to death.
Number five: Any submissive not agreeing to these terms may not be admitted to The Gallery. Any resistance or refusal of these rules is cause for immediate expulsion from the premises. He’d added, You can imagine where resistance will get you.
Oh, I could imagine all right. The whole setup, with the rules and sponsors and uniforms, was so profoundly perverted that my clit was about to catch fire. I wanted to call Devin and tell him how keyed up I was, and let him hear my orgasm, the one I’d been waiting for since I’d gotten to New York. But if he was in the middle of flying a plane, I might make him crash.
Instead, I closed my eyes and pictured him in my mind. I remembered the way he’d jumped me when we got to the hotel on São Miguel, and the way he’d punished me when I kept him from leaving for New York the first time. Oh God, oh God, that feels bad…and good. I stayed on my knees and stroked my clit, pretending he was standing over me. With my other hand, I flicked the chain connecting the clamps, then tugged it to make them tighten each time I squeezed on the plug in my ass.
It didn’t take long to work my body into a powerful orgasm. I grasped my pussy, riding the pulsing waves, amazed at the strength of my climax. I tended to come pretty easily, especially when I was bound, plugged, or clamped, but those orgasms weren’t like the ones Devin gave me.
And he wasn’t even here.
When my climax subsided, I collapsed on the floor, the carpet’s scratchy texture adding another level of stimulation. The clamps had to come off, or my nipples might never recover, so I removed them, gritting my teeth against the painful detachment of the rubber end caps. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I decided to leave in the butt plug a bit longer, because it made me feel dirty and owned.
While I lay there, panting for breath, I thought how long it had been since someone excited me this way. Forever. Literally forever. I really appreciated Devin in that moment. I really, really liked him, more than felt comfortable. I reached for the phone I’d left on the bed.
Hi, I texted him, squeezing on the plug. I got your package. Thank you.
I waited to see if he would respond, mentally doing the math about what time it was in various parts of the world. Before I could come up with the times for Europe, at least, I saw he was texting back.
I thought you might like it.
I liked everything about it. Thanks also for the test results. I’ll send mine soon.
Sounds good. I’ll be back Tuesday, if you want to do something. A pause, then more blinking dots. The Gallery is only open on Saturdays. Did you read the rules?
Yes, Sir. I rested my head on my arm, wishing he were here to touch me. I’m okay with all of them. I hesitated, then typed, They really turned me on.
It won’t be as enjoyable as you think, he texted. I’ve been dreaming about things to do to you.
He called them dreams, but they were probably more like nightmares to the average woman. Not me. I can’t wait to go, I said.
There was another pause. I wondered what he was doing. Walking through an airport? Flying a plane? Masturbating in his hotel room?
Did you follow my directions? he asked. Did you wear the clamps and put in the plug while you read the rules?
Yes, Sir. They felt bad, but I came really hard. I added a couple blushing faces. I’m still wearing the plug now.
Are you? Why?
How could I answer a question like that without humiliating myself? Maybe that was what he wanted. I didn’t want to take it out yet, I texted. I came so hard. I’m lying here feeling very… I thought a moment. Very naughty.
Make yourself come again, then, he texted. One last orgasm allowed, then no more until I get back.
Until you get back?! Good God, I’d just broken the seal on my horny-urges bottle, and he wanted me to cap it again?
I knew he was grinning sadistically as he texted back. It’s only four days. Less than four days. In the meantime, you can use the plug to stretch your asshole. That plug is designed for long-duration use, so wear it at night while you’re sleeping. Three dots blinked. It’ll also be a good reminder that you’re not allowed to come.
I bit my lip, staring at the phone. Is that a suggestion, to wear the plug, or…
Not a suggestion. In fact, text me every night when you’ve put it in, so we’ll keep you honest. You have plenty of lube to work with.
I eyed the huge bottle of BACK DOOR he’d provided, and sighed. Yes, Sir, I texted.
Good girl. Now put down the phone and come with the plug in your ass. Grind on a pillow or something.
I stretched on my stomach, letting the carpet chafe my sore nipples. I’m grinding on the floor. It’s scratchy.
You little pain slut. I wish I was there with my belt.
I moaned just thinking about it. I wish you were here too.
I’d fucking light into you, he texted. I’d leather your ass until you screamed.
I didn’t need to fantasize to imagine him doing that. He’d given me a severe belt spanking in São Miguel, one I’d never forget. I rubbed my clit and slid my nipples across the carpet, trying to hold off, trying to make things last, but it was impossible with Devin. Anothe
r orgasm came, as hard and long as the last one, while my phone continued to ping beside me, delivering arousing, sadistic threats from half a globe away.
Chapter Fourteen: Devin
I arrived at Ella’s door at seven o’clock on Tuesday night, eager to see her. To touch her. When she answered, she was wearing a little black dress, strappy sandals, and those damned intellectual glasses. She was a porno scientist. I stepped inside her apartment and cupped her chin within my fingers.
