Page 13 of S is for…

She relaxed against him, the kernel of worry and frustration that had taken root dying away.“Maybe a caning, Master?Or a hard paddle spanking with figging.”Her body shivered with need.She craved the release she found in pain.

Peter turned her to face him, frowning.“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Diann laughed.This man had left her with bruises and welts that took weeks to fade.They’d even given knife play a try but hadn’t enjoyed it.

Peter didn’t laugh.

Diann stared at him, her smile fading.“Master?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, no more pain for the sake of pain.”

“What?Why?”Diann stared at him, shocked, protocol and manners forgotten.

Her confusion only deepened, when his reply was a soft smile.He tucked her curls behind her ear, his gaze touching on each of her features.

What the fuck.

“I’ll still spank you, flog, you, and of course make you orgasm over and over until it’s painful how much pleasure you’re feeling.”Peter cupped her face in both his hands, bringing their heads together until their foreheads touched.“But I can’t hurt you like that anymore.”

“Why?”She whispered, feeling desperate and confused.

His lips feathered against hers, and then he spoke the words that fucked up their very nice D/s relationship.“Because I’m in love with you.”

Chapter4

Peter and Diann

Of the threeemotions Diann felt whenever she let herself think about Peter for too long—guilt, anger, and shame—shame was the hardest to deal with.

Shame ate at her, and it got worse every time she came to the club, when she had to once more explain to a new scene partner how she enjoyed feeling used.How she needed to be abused, and used.Treated like a sex slave or sex pet.And yes, she had a degradation kink, but it had to come from a place of respect.

That last one was the hardest to explain.

Sometimes the top got the mix right, most of the time they didn’t, and even here, among the kinky people, she often felt ashamed.

“You don’t get a halter strap.”Peter’s words pulled her out of her memories and emotional spiral.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, both to acknowledge his words, and to center herself in the here and now.

Peter released the tray, which fell, tapping against her belly.He cupped her bare breasts, and Diann couldn’t suppress the small sigh of needy relief.

He pinched her nipples just hard enough for it to be sweet pleasure, then kept going, pinching until it was pain.Then adding a twist to the pinch so her shoulders hunched forward in an instinctive move to protect her breasts.

Finally he released her only to brutally flick each nipple.

She cried out softly, but those flicks sent pulses of need through her pussy.

“For you, the tray will be held up by chains attached to nipple clamps.”

The words shot bolts of worry and anticipation through her.

“Yes, Sir.”

She watched as he hooked small chains to the outer edge of the tray then raised it into position.He worked the nipple, twisting and pulling until it was distended, then applied the clamp.She hissed at the bite of it, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.He put the clamp towards the back of her nipple, pinching her areola, so the tip of her breast protruded lewdly from the front of the clamp.He rubbed the very tip of her nipple with the flat of his finger, and pure pleasure slid through her, despite the bite of pain.

She hadn’t realized he was holding up the tray with his other hand until he let go.The weight of it pulled against her nipple, distending it further, and she cried out.

“Does it hurt?”

---