Page 7 of Mastered By Lust

“Good girl.” I tear open the packaging and pull out the delicate chain connected to two tweezer clamps.

Leah takes an involuntary step back.

I test the tension on each clamp, then adjust the setting so they won’t pinch as hard.

“Come here, Leah.” I hold up the first clamp so the other dangles from the connecting chain.

“Sir,” she whines.

I wait. My cock presses eagerly against my pants. When she finally feels the bite of the clamp, it’s going to feel so bad for her, and so good for me.

Finally, she steps forward, chewing her lower lip in trepidation.

“You’re right to be a little worried,” I say. “But you know I want your pleasure and safety more than anything else, right? The little bite of pain will make everything else so much better, baby doll.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very. We talked about regular pain versus sexy pain at Low Vice. Do you remember?”

“Yes, Sir. We were watching the women on their knees, on the hard floor. That pain didn’t appeal to me.”

“I believe this pain will. I’m grateful that you trust me with this.”

She holds her breath and nods.

She is so beautiful, those bright blue eyes wide as she throws herself into this experience with me. I love being a Dominant because it satisfies base, sexual urges. But I love beingherDominant in particular. She makes me feel as if this is a higher calling, as if I were made this way for a reason.

As if I were made for her.

With my free hand, I trace the outline of one of her nipples. It stiffens even more. I bend forward and lift her breast at the same time so I can take the peak in my mouth. I swirl my tongue over it, sucking gently and showing it love. When I scrape my teeth on the sensitive skin, Leah gasps.

I smile to myself as I straighten. Before Leah can react, I affix the clamp to her nipple.

She whimpers, but it quickly turns into a moan. Her sounds are music, the clamp tells a story, and the shape of her body is art. They coalesce into an arousing feast of the senses.

“Is it tolerable?” I tap the clamp.

She sucks in a breath. “I guess?”

Good enough. “Remember your safe word. It exists for a reason.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I give her other nipple the same treatment, plucking at it with my fingers, then my mouth and tongue and teeth. Then I place the other clamp.

Leah squirms in front of me, rubbing her thighs together.

The clamps are attached by a chain. I give it an experimental tug.

Her squeak of surprise makes me even harder.

“Does that hurt, little doll?” I croon, tugging again.

She stumbles forward.

I catch her in my arms. “Easy there, little one. Let’s put you in a chair so you don’t fall.”

Whimpering, she follows me to one of the armchairs in front of the windows. My interior designer arranged them here for the view. She didn’t know I would never part the curtains.

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