Pain and Pleasure (3 page)

I did, holding my breath, unable to stop a blast of visuals streaking across the insides of my eyelids. I couldn’t latch on to any of them, couldn’t harness them and inspect what they were, to tease myself with each image and revel in the feelings they produced. They raced by too fast, as though they were there to entice me to chase them, knowing they were too swift, too clever for me to catch them up.

The warmth of his breath touched me first, then the slight connection of his tongue swiping across my mouth through the cage. I gasped, having been expecting pain and not something so delicate, so arousing, albeit on the other end of the scale.

“You taste like cunt,” he said against my lips. “Salty. You’re hot, aren’t you—so hot, almost feverish.”

I would have nodded if I hadn’t been so close to the door. “Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re about to get hotter.”

He pinched both of my nipples, twisting them violently. I gasped, thrilled at his sudden attack on them.

“Does that hurt, sub?”

“Yes,” I said, no longer having any energy to dispute that I wasn’t his sub. I was just a pain slut—oh yeah… And there it was, pain of the most delicious variety.

“Not as much as it will in a few seconds.” He licked my mouth again. “And this”—he jabbed his fingers inside my slit while still twisting one of my nipples—“what does this feel like?”

“Torture, Sir.”

“But I haven’t hurt you there. Yet.”

“I didn’t mean that kind of torture.” My words had come out rapid where I was struggling to breathe—this was getting to me in a way I hadn’t dreamt possible.

“Tell me what you
do
mean.”

I raised my hands and gripped the door, sliding my fingers through the squares then curling them downwards. The metal bit into my skin, making my bones hurt.

“I meant that it was torture because I want you to be more aggressive on my cunt, Sir. I want to come already, and if you just…shove at it, I’ll go over the edge.”

“A bit of nipple play and you’re ready to go? My, little sub, you’re a firecracker. A wanton, filthy firecracker.”

If he kept up that kind of dirty talk I’d go off like one soon. He twisted my nipple the other way at the same time as delving into my wet cunt.

“That’s as far as my fingers can go because of the cage,” he said. “So if you imagined me ramming my fingers in and out of you while you’re in there, you’re going to be disappointed. Still, you could always hurt yourself. While I watch and do…other things.”

I swallowed, my mouth watering. “Please, Sir. I’m aching. I need more than that—more than what you’re doing to my nipple.”

He scissored his fingers between my labia, catching a slip of flesh between them. Then pulled. “Like this? Do you like
this
kind of
more
?”

I sucked in a breath. “Yes, Sir. Yes, like that. Please do it again.”

He did, harder, and I bunched my eyes closed tighter, hissing out a long breath.

He took his fingers away from my pussy, let my nipple go, and I opened my mouth to protest.

“And this,” he said.

A snarling bite of pain lanced through my nipple. Evil and so sinfully brilliant, it flooded my system with alarm. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from crying out, wanting to open my eyes to see what he’d done.

“Don’t you dare look,” he said.

I panted as the pain seemed to bloom before it receded somewhat. My nipple throbbed along with the pounding of my clit, and the pulse in my neck joined in. I was a mass of beats, my body the instrument he was playing so well.

A menacing shard of hurt gnawed at my other nipple, and I groaned, long and low, drowning in the beauty he was producing, that wonderful, such sought after agony I’d been wanting. Something clanked against the door, and I remembered just in time to keep my eyes closed.

“You can open them now, sub,” he said.

Slowly, I peeled them open, oddly wanting to prolong the anticipation of what I’d see now he’d given me permission. I stared at the clamps he’d put on my nipples, vicious-looking silver sparkles, teeth shark-like and I imagined just as sharp. A slim and elegant chain joined the clamps, and it hung much like the letter U on the other side of the cage door, the bottom curve as low as my navel.

“Now it’s time for the pain to really begin,” he said.

Chapter Three

He slid one finger beneath the chain loop then curled it. Gave a short, sharp little tug. I groaned at the lash of pain that whipped from my nipples deep into each breast. He lifted the chain—still holding it with that curled finger I wished was inside my cunt, the end of it rubbing my G-spot—and held it mid-air.

He tugged again. Harder. And didn’t let the chain have any slack.

I stared down at my nipples. They were distended, pulled so taut the soft circles of darkened skin around them were drawn through the squares. The pain went beyond immense, beyond anything I’d experienced before, but rather than push into the cage even more to lessen the wretchedness I was feeling, I reared back a bit to heighten it.

I looked up at him, challenging him to pull even harder.

He raised his eyebrows, as though questioning if I were serious.

“Do it, Sir,” I said.

He paused before he gave the chain another sturdy yank.

This time the pain was greater than anything I’d ever endured. If I thought I’d been hurting before, I’d been wrong. It was like my nipples were blistered, as though fire raged through them, a torture that made my knees buckle and my cunt get wetter.

“Oh, God,” I breathed. “Oh, God…”

“That’s it,” he said. “You’re taking this very well.” He applied a bit more pressure. “And that. Aren’t you such a good girl?”

“Yes,” I managed.

He stepped toward me, giving me a breather as the chain slackened.

Then he wrapped it around his fist a couple of times. I felt my nipples turn toward each other, and I stared down at them, at how they were so out of shape they’d become unrecognizable.

“Have you had enough, sub?” he asked, resting his forehead on the cage, trapping my abused nipples between his chest and the door, giving them a fresh wave of misery.

“No, Sir. I want more.”

“Good, so you won’t mind me doing this.”

He fumbled lower down between us, then the touch of what must have been his fingertips prodded at the top of my slit. He pushed them into my wet folds. And pinched my clit. I was in no doubt that he was using a finger and his thumb now, such was the intensity of his grip.

“No,” I said, gasping to control my breathing. “I don’t mind that one bit, Sir.”

“That’s all right then. So you won’t mind if I do it again, will you?”

Before I could answer, he tweaked my clit again and gave the chain another wrench. I dropped my head back and gave in, having to push my body back into the cage to relieve some of the pressure.

“Open the door,” he said.

Somehow, I managed it. He stepped away, letting the chain go, pulling his finger and thumb back through the squares. The sensations in my nipples grew worse, not better, flooding my system with the mad alert that my God, I was on fire.

“I think it’s time I joined you in there, don’t you?” he asked, pulling the door so the chain was taut and my nipples once again distended.

I gasped and the sound mixed with a bang echoing toward us.

I froze, held my breath deep in my lungs.

“Shit,” he mouthed, glancing over his shoulder at the slim gap we’d squeezed through.

I was hot and cold, the temperatures combining on my skin in a confusing contrast. I was also attached to the cage door he was holding open, the chain leading from my left nipple, taut through the mesh, before clamping onto my right nipple. Not only was I caged, I was also tethered.

Fuck it. Was someone really coming back here, to where the empty pallets and cages were stored?

I could hear my pulse in my ears but nothing else. My pussy was humming, the lingering discomfort of him having pinched my clit and stretched my lips still murmuring sweetly to me.

Silence enveloped us. The shadows wrapped us up once more.

“It was nothing,” I said after what seemed a long, quiet minute. “And distant, too. Perhaps a car door outside or something?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” A slow smile spread on his face. “Damn, this is getting you off, isn’t it? The thought of getting caught?”

“It adds to the urgency, adds to the need for you to get the hell on with it.” I pouted. “Come on then. Get in.”

He released the door and took a step back. Raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. “Excuse me?”

“Come on. Get the hell on with it.”

He tutted and shook his head. “Oh, dear, that’s really not very good behavior, is it?”

Frustration bloomed within me. I could tell he was going to make a point of this obedience thing at exactly the wrong moment. I was gagging for it, my nipples, and the pain in them, ruling my thoughts. I needed tension on that chain again. I needed my pussy filling—properly, not just a swipe over my lips and a quick poke inside.

“Mmm,” he said, eyeing me from toes to tits. “I suppose I should get on with it, time being of the essence and all, but just so we’re clear, there will come a day when I teach you patience, teach you how to hold off an orgasm when you’re in this state for a full twenty-four hours.”

‘In this state’—that’s what I was, in a state. The urge to masturbate was almost overwhelming. “Please,” I begged. “Please, Sir.”

“A bit of begging will get you everywhere…tonight,” he said, suddenly stepping into the cage with me. It rattled a little and shifted under his added weight.

He reached around me, pulled the door shut and flicked the catch.

His body heat was like a balm to my flesh, the feel of his clothing on my bare skin almost more arousing than nakedness. The buttons on his jacket were sharp and cold on my back, the material a little rough. The tight weave of his trousers on my sore arse, combined with a solid bulge, made me groan and shut my eyes.

“Put your arms out, hold onto the door,” he said, guiding my hands to the metal squares. “That’s it, now step back, until the chain is tight.”

I did as he’d asked. When my elbows were locked, the chain was at full stretch, elongating my nipples so they were slender and shouting loudly to my nerves about their abuse.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed into my ear. “Perfect, just as I’d dreamed of seeing you. Fuck, that’s what almost made me come at work, thinking of you like this. Caged, owned by my chain, at my mercy. Fucking hell, Isabella, you’re so damn good at this, why do you deny it?”

“Deny what?” I panted.

“That you are a sub. Jesus, look at you. Could you be any more controlled, subservient, compliant to my demands?”

“I just want you to fuck me,” I said, a sob bubbling up as I let my head hang low. “Please, fuck me, hard, while my tits are like this, please.”

“Please what?” He ran his hands down my back, drifted them over my arse then up my front, my stomach, my ribs, around to my shoulders. “Please, what?” He gave my right buttock a stinging slap.

“Ah…” I jerked forwards then backwards. The slice of pain mixed with the darts of agony my movements had created in my nipples.

“Say it,” he snarled. “Dear God, say it or I swear I will fucking walk away now. Leave you here like this.”

He wouldn’t. Surely not? He had a hard-on that could rival a piece of timber and I could practically smell the need coming from him.

“Say it. Say I’m your Master and you are my sub, that you will obey me, come only when told to, perform whatever I desire of you in return for me giving you pleasure of the extreme variety and protecting and caring for you.”

“Yes, whatever…ah, bloody hell!”

He’d coiled his hand into my hair, dragged my head up so I was looking at the ceiling of the cage. “You should know that I am a fair Master,” he said hotly against my neck. “But I will not finish this scene, in here, with you, unless you admit to what is buried deep within you.”

“Sir…” I panted, each breath generating new shards of pain in my breasts. “I have nothing buried within me.”

“I can see it as plain as day.” He kissed my ear noisily, then down my neck. “You’re a pain slut, yes, but when you call me Sir, your pupils go wide from your excitement. You obey orders like a professional when you forget to be subordinate, and my God…” He paused, ran his fingers down the crack of my arse and found my pussy. “Has anyone else ever got you this wet without fucking you? Just teasing you a bit, ordering you around?”

“No, Sir, I don’t think so, Sir.”

He spread my moisture—he was right, I was sodden with need.

“It’s just a few words, that’s all I ask,” he said. “And those words will stay here, in this cage, when we leave. But they need to be said, my lovely Isabella, so let them fall from your lips. You’ll be surprised how right they feel.”

He ground his cock onto the cleft of my arse again. Cunning bastard. How could I risk not getting that dick inside me? It was a no-brainer.

“Yes,” I said. “You’re right, you are my Master and I am your sub.” I paused, hardly believing I was saying something I’d refused to entertain in the past. “And…”

“And you will obey me.” He slid into my pussy with two, maybe three fingers.

“And, oh, yes, I…I will obey you, and come only when you say…”

“Good girl. Nearly there.”

He caught my clit with his thumb, and I had to lock my knees to stay standing. It was as though my nipples were attached to my pussy and could generate their own orgasm. Had I been wired differently from other people? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to complain, it was bloody lovely.

“Stay with me,” he snapped. “What else?”

Think, brain, think.
“Oh, yes, I will do whatever you desire and know that you will look after me…please, Sir…”

“I suppose that will have to do for now.” He bit my neck—a sharp nip that I was sure would leave teeth marks. “Though if you were my sub outside of this cage, you would be whipped for having such a lack of conviction in your tone. I don’t like to not be believed, especially when I say I will protect and care for you.”

My face was wet with tears. His words were registering, but I would take them out later and sift through them. Right now I just needed him to fuck me until breathing was the only other thing that mattered.