Page 41 of Rediscovering Rubi

“That’s my good girl,” he said before screwing the clamp tighter.

Her whole chest and neck and her cheeks were going a little red, which he knew meant she was processing the pain. He waited a few moments before tightening the other side. And lord, her tits looked so fucking delectable when they were clamped. His dick was rock-hard already. He leaned in to lick the tortured tips, first one side, then the other, making her moan.

He helped her to her feet, then, and she was a little unsteady in her pretty heels, so he kept his hands on her waist as he helped her to a high, padded chair set in the corner. It was probably built to use as a queening chair, with leg supports on either side of the narrow seat, so that when he lifted her ontoit, her thighs were spread wide and her sweet pussy was open, exposed. But he had other ideas about his wife and that chair tonight.

Even in the dim light, he could see her pussy was damp, and he gave it a quick stroke to test her wetness.

“Mmm, Logan. Sir.”

The muscles in her thighs clenched, and he loved seeing her need. But he needed to get her secured.

He fastened the wide leather strap attached to the chair around her waist, then buckled a pair of leather cuffs to her wrists, clipping them to eyebolts set into the leg rests on either side of her thighs. He kissed her lips, and she kissed him back hard, her need coming through in her kiss, her passion. He pulled away to take a step back and look at her. Open to him, her nipples clamped tight, the expression of surrender on her face, in every muscle of her body.

Need to fuck her so badly.

But he had other plans first.

He took one more step back and pressed a hand against his rigid erection, trying to calm it down. But he could work with a raging hard-on. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Stay right there, babygirl. I’ll just be a second.”

He went to his toy bag and retrieved the small pouch of miniature plastic clothespins he’d found just before they’d left home, spilling a few into his hand. They hadn’t played this game in a while. It was one he knew she had a love-hate relationship with, and the sadist in him was nearly cackling with glee.

Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped as he moved back to the chair and stood between her spread legs.

“Fuck,” she said so quietly he could barely hear her.

It only made him smile.

“If this is a hard no for you, babe, now is the time to tell me.”

“I… I honestly don’t know. They scare me.”

“And?” he demanded.

“And I can see you love that. A lot.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, I do. But do you need to safeword?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

“Here we go then, babygirl. Use your breathing.”

She drew in a deep breath as he pinched a tiny blue clothespin between thumb and forefinger, then he slid the fingers of his other hand over her open slit. She was so damn wet. She moaned quietly as he worked her pussy a bit, knowing the more turned-on she was, the more pain she could take. He glanced up to see that she’d closed her eyes and leaned her head against the high backrest. That was good. It meant she was gearing herself up for this.

He lightly pinched one of her folds between his fingers, pulling the flesh out so he could attach the clothespin. When he did, she drew in a sharp, gasping breath.

“Breathe through it, baby,” he instructed, and she did as he asked.

He opened a red clothespin, and pinching her labia just below the blue pin, he pressed the red one into place.

Again, she sucked in her breath, then exhaled, long and slow.

He brushed his lips across her mouth and asked her, “Where are you, Rubi? Are we still green? Is this too much?”

“No, I”—she had to pause to take in another sharp breath—“it hurts. God, it fucking hurts, but… I want to do this for you.”

He grabbed her face in his hand. “Rubi. Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me. I understand submission means you have that deep desire to serve me. But you have to tell me if it’s too much.”