Nipples Jubilee

Nipples Jubilee

Published by Darker Pleasures at
Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Matt Nicholson. All rights
reserved.

Cover image by
paulmorris/123RF Stock
Photos

Smashword Edition, License Notes

This work contains graphic language and
sexual depictions of sometimes extreme consensual and
semi-consensual female bondage and sadomasochism. It is intended
for mature audiences only and is not suitable for persons under
eighteen years of age. This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters places and incidents are products of the authors’
imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
or redistribute this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever. For information, address Darker Pleasures, webmaster at
darkerpleasures.com.

Zoey hung by her wrists from thick, steel
chains. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail so it
wouldn’t get in the way. As always, it tickled the middle of her
back. The widest of their spreader bars pushed her legs apart. The
breeze from the ceiling fan teased her naked, wet folds, chilled
her bare bottom and added to the excitement that drew her nipples
tight.

In earlier days, her shoulders would have
felt half-pulled from their sockets by now, and her wide-splayed
hips would have ached. She might have already started quietly
chanting her mantra, the loving phrase she’d made up about her
Master that helped her through the more difficult punishments. But
he had long since conditioned her to be more tolerant of such
things, as he had with most of the rest of his torments. Not only
had he trained her to persevere through, and even enjoy the
torture, he had also taught her to accept being shared with others.
So her unease had nothing to do with the men knocking at the
door.

What it did have to do with was what the
night had in store, and whether or not her conditioning had made
her ready. The furniture and tools were in place and the fire was
burning. It was almost time. She shivered from both fear and
excitement. If she was right, tonight Zoey would finally give her
Master his fondest dream.

He’d found her two years earlier. Though
she’d claimed to want to be submissive, she’d been defiant and
untrained. He had taken her in and slowly trained her, breaking her
in a step at a time until she was his perfect pet, his toy, his
slave. She had long since come to believe that the pleasure he got
from using her was worth more than anything was. In fact, she
honestly believed her enjoyment of what he did went beyond his.

Though he often spanked her, and wasn’t at
all beyond treating her pussy to his special brand of pain, he was
particularly fond of her breasts. He spent most of his time on
them. There were few punishments they hadn’t seen. But, though he
was often his most brutal when her breasts were at stake, he could
also be his most gentle and vulnerable. Their most intimate moments
came when, after a particularly trying day, he pillowed his face in
an upper curve and worked his way from a gentle sucking to
wonderfully painful, flesh-bruising bites. She knew he held back.
She longed for him not to.

But, whether he was being vicious or not,
just the thought of him ravishing her nipples with his teeth when,
after hours of playing and torment he finally gave her the honor of
sex with him, made her wet.

Besides Zoey and his fetish for her breasts,
her Master’s dungeon was his passion. It was his only escape from
the brutal reality of his daily struggles. Here, he had total
control. He enjoyed the power of deciding what pain and what
pleasure she received as much as he enjoyed taking her when he was
done, if not more so. His dungeon and its delights were probably
the only reason he hadn't given up on society entirely.

Having been laid off from his job, many of
his bills and his mortgage payment were behind. With the home that
contained his precious, well-equipped dungeon threatened, he had
sought therapy in punishing her and had been especially rough as of
late.

On top of that, since the layoff, he had
started renting the dungeon out to others. For a few Bens extra,
she came with it. The renters came individually and in small
groups. Her Master would stand off in the shadows, watching as they
played or practiced on her. He never let them take her too far, but
“too far” for her had become a matter of definition. The safe word
was his, not hers, and his only voiced conditions to their play
were that they didn’t do anything her Master couldn’t tend to
medically and that they made her come before they finished their
play.

She couldn’t recall a visit she hadn’t
enjoyed. Even if her climax had been lacking, the punishment had
always been delightful enough to leave her wanting for a return
engagement someday.

It was hard to decide which she enjoyed the
most. One group of three more seasoned men had clover clamped her
pussy lips and nipples, weighing them down with dangling lead while
gang-banging her from behind until she was all but unconscious from
use. Another, more sadistic bunch tied her nipples with dental
floss and strung them up to the ceiling, pulling her up on her
tip-toes. After spanking her until her bottom was well-bruised,
they plunge their dicks into her pussy until it was sore inside and
out and she thought the midnight purple tips were about to come
off.

A younger couple, hardly out of college, had
strapped her down, naked and spread-eagle, on top of her Master’s
play table. Laughing and giggling, they froze her best parts with
ice then meticulously covered her from her inner thighs to her neck
with brilliant, red wax a few scalding drips at a time. Once that
was done, they used her as a padded fuck table. With his girl’s ass
pressed firmly against Zoey’s stinging pussy and her head nestled
between her wax-covered tits, he pounded his partner nearly
senseless. Then they took over a half-hour “cleaning her up” by
beating the wax from her body with a suede flogger.

Then there was the woman who used a
combination of Shibari and perfectly-knotted hangman’s nooses to
suspend her face up by her thighs and breasts, the pretty ropework
on her legs and the choking nooses up top. Once the lady rigger was
satisfied with her artistry, she took Zoey slowly with a
double-sided strap-on, rocking her back and forth in mid-air until
they both came. By the time she was done, Zoey’s nearly exploded
breasts resembled over-ripe eggplant. The rope burns had lasted for
days.

And Zoey would never forget the night of a
thousand needles. As pretty as all his designs were, she didn’t
think he’d really
quite
used a thousand of them. Even so,
her areola and nipples, pussy and even the tight, inner curves of
her bottom would have begged to differ—especially after the hearty
horizontal fucking he gave her, needles still in place.

Though each encounter was deliciously cruel
to a fault, none of them had a problem with her Master’s second
rule. In fact, most were quite good at following it. All the time
he watched from his corner, drinking his Dr. Pepper, sometimes
masturbating, other times not. With the increasing number and
frequency of these sessions, Zoey was sometimes amazed that she
recovered as quickly as she did. She was even more surprised at the
amount of pleasure she derived from her Master's enjoyment.

Through it all, Zoey felt more alive than she
ever had. When he she wasn’t in his dungeon, her Master treated her
like a princess. She knew he loved her deeply. She loved him just
as much. And she was addicted to the conflicting mix of agony and
ecstasy he gave her as strongly as any drug, almost as much as she
was addicted to the pleasure he took from giving it.

So, in a way, Zoey found his financial
hardships a blessing. He took her to limits of pain she’d never
known, and she had plenty of other distractions along the way. But
the thought of having him suffer in any way overrode her own
desires. She hoped that today's plans would both do away with those
hardships and finally let him have her the way he'd always stopped
just short of in the past.

Zoey looked down at her breasts, wondering
what they’d look like by the end of the night, when the noise of
conversation interrupted her thoughts. She shifted her shoulders
and rolled her hips, watching from her haven in the dark as her
Master finally returned. Large, muscular, black-clad and hooded, he
led six men and a woman down the hall toward her into the dungeon
proper. Several men carrying cameras and filming equipment followed
them.

An hour earlier, he had ordered her to
undress and take out her nipple rings. She’d done so without
question and cooperated fully as he chained her to one of the thick
horizontal crossbeams in the dungeon, pulling her arms up so her
breasts stretched into tempting, easy targets.

It wasn’t a couple minutes later that their
spreader bar pushed her legs apart and left her ass and pussy just
as easy to get to. She knew what she looked like now, and she
forced herself not to smile as she watched the men peering through
the shadows to see. It was obvious they were looking forward to
enjoying her so naked, defenseless and wanting.

Once everyone had gathered in front of her,
her Master turned on the lights, letting them see her in all her
helpless beauty. While they looked at her, she looked at them. She
recognized most of them, men that had played with her before. They
were all surprisingly easy on the eyes, which made it pleasant to
imagine them helping do the things her Master loved to do to
her.

After letting her imagination run wild for a
second or two, Zoey noticed the woman, tall and strikingly pretty
in a just-on-the-edge-of-forty sort of way. She stood in the back,
away from the others, beside a slightly younger man with razor
stubble on his face and a slight hint of beer belly. She didn’t
have much more time to consider who they might be, as her Master
stepped up beside her in front of the group. His voice was
confident and proud.

"Tonight is a very special night since it
will save this exceptional dungeon and begin a new era for all our
slaves. As you know, I’ve had some financial setbacks. Although
letting you use both the dungeon and my lovely slave has helped a
bit, it hasn’t been enough. Those problems end tonight. I’ve
negotiated a profitable film deal with a BDSM web site that will
give me enough income to pay off my debts and even expand if I
wish. I’m happy you can all be part of this great occasion."

Very few of them were actually watching her
Master. Instead, their eyes floated over Zoey while they clapped at
his little speech. She felt as if they were deciding on what cut of
meat they wanted, drawing imaginary black dashes around her
breasts, ass and pussy in particular. The prospect both frightened
and thrilled her. Her nipples pull tighter and her clit start to
swell at the thought.

"Each of you has generously paid to watch the
filming of what will be my most glorious moment with my slave.
Several of you have also donated more money to be part of the fun
and to help prepare her for my grand finale. If you’re ready, we’ll
begin."

All of the men nodded, eager to start.

"Good, then let the show begin."

Several cameramen hovered around Zoey or
worked tripod stands, readying themselves to capture every moment
of what was about to happen from a half-dozen distances and angles.
She looked around, taking a last, deep breath before the filming
started, then gave herself one final glance. She was curvy and
petite, with firm cantaloupe-like breasts. Remarkably unblemished
despite the punishment they’d seen, they were tipped with large,
meaty areola, easily three inches across even when they were hard
from excitement or cold.

Her thick nipples were dark and pebbled like
raspberries. In fact, that’s what he called them, “his
raspberries.” The description sounded like something from an
erotica novel, but it was accurate. They were the kind of tits many
men only dreamed of looking at, let alone torturing.

She’d kept her pussy shaved, and her Master
had pierced her clit not long after her nipples. Zoey's body was
ripe for them to abuse and enjoy, and she knew each man had a
particular part to play. She was all but trembling in excitement
and fear by the time the first man stepped forward.

He swished a black leather riding crop back
and forth through the air as he came toward her. Well familiar with
that crop, she arched her back, catlike, and thrust her breasts
forward, defying the man to do his worst. Her tummy tightened and
she closed her eyes as he drew the whip back.