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Mal screamed, but it faded to a moan of pleasure, because the instant the needle had breached flesh, Beth’s lips and tongue had gone to work on Mal’s mercilessly exposed clit.
Benson had waited to see her thighs and belly muscles twitch and tighten before driving the needle through the other nipple.
Mal had sobbed through a pain-laced orgasm, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
At Benson’s command, Mal’s clit continued to receive stimulation when Zee took over. First, they carefully removed the clamps, then fitted the stainless-steel nipple bars into the hollow end of each piercing needle. With one smooth motion, Zee pulled the needle through, the bar sliding through Mal’s flesh.
Benson, still wearing the black surgical gloves, had been the one to screw the small ball onto the end of each bar.
Once the piercings were done, Mal’s breasts cleaned, and the aftercare instructions and medicine handed over, Benson had eased Mal out of her bondage and off the chair.
For a different Master, a different submissive, that would have been the end of the scene.
Benson ordered Mal to her knees, then offered Zee Mal’s services. After very little convincing and one more private conversation with Mal, they’d accepted.
With her newly pierced nipples throbbing and pussy humming from several intense orgasms, Mal had obeyed Benson’s command, crawling between the piercer’s legs as they lay back on a large ottoman, heels braced on the edge. After spreading a dental dam over the stranger’s pussy, Mal had obeyed Benson’s order and licked and sucked them to orgasm.
The piercer had declared that the best oral sex of her life, congratulated both Benson and Mal on fulfilling their sexual needs, and promised to come back when it was time to pierce Mal’s labia or clit hood.
Mal had whimpered upon hearing those words. When Benson questioned her, she hadn’t known whether her response was one of fear or desire.
He’d cropped the soles of her feet. Benson hadn’t wanted to spank her ass, because she might shift and bounce too much for that to be safe with her newly pierced nipples. Through pain, she found clarity.
Curled on his lap in aftercare, Mal confessed she feared a clit piercing because she didn’t want to have her clit off limits while it healed.
At the end of that weekend, Mal went home feeling floaty and at peace.
Three weeks later, with her nipples mostly healed, she realized she wanted more. Even as she dealt with the discomfort of healing nipples, and remembered with shock that she’d performed oral sex on a stranger, she’d known she needed further intense play.
Kneeling before him, Mal no longer feared a clit piercing. She wanted one. Wanted the frustration born of an off-limits, healing clit. Wanted a labia piercing or piercings too.
More. Mal needed more.
More pain, more pleasure.
CHAPTER 4
Malvia leaned back against Master Mikel’s leg. The cushion under her was thick enough that though she’d been kneeling on and off for hours, her knees and the tops of her feet didn’t hurt. She occasionally shifted onto her butt, or repositioned to stretch, but she kept coming back to the position that made her feel most submissive—on her knees, legs spread, palms up on her thighs.
Master Mikel casually slipped a hand around her throat, applying pressure on the sides of her neck. She moaned softly in pleasure, even as her heart raced and she got that good floaty feeling that came from precisely, gently applied pressure.
His finger slid up just a fraction, now pressing hard against the bottom of her jaw.
“Lift,” he commanded. “Raise those lovely breasts for me.”
She arched up, lifting her ass off her heels without sitting forward since, with his hand around her neck, that wasn’t really an option. Bent backwards, with one shoulder braced against the chair, the other against Master Mikel’s knee, her bare breasts were upthrust and vulnerable.
Mikel dangled a silver chain over her face, letting a hanging loop caress her lips. The chain was thicker than the kind used for a necklace, with a bit of heft to it.
She obediently opened her mouth. It was a standing order Master Mikel used with his slaves and submissives. Any time something touched their lips, they were to open their mouths and be ready to hold or suck whatever was placed on their tongue.
He let the chain pool in her mouth. “Hold.”
With her head back laying on his thigh, it was awkward, but she got her tongue into a position so she didn’t accidentally swallow the chain, pressing it against the roof of her mouth. The metallic taste was sharp and made spit pool at her back teeth.
He dropped the chain ends so they dangled over her chin, tickling the underside of her jaw.
With one hand now free, Mikel reached down and grasped her right nipple ring, tugging and twisting. Having the nipple rings played with was less about pleasure than about feeling submissive. Nipple pleasure usually required direct contact with skin—a tongue or fingers stroking, licking, pinching. In contrast, having her nipple rings manipulated caused a tugging sensation. For her, that manipulation of her breasts via the nipple ring was about being used without the expectation of pleasure.
