17-01-2020, 02:00 PM
As soon as she returned, I knew that whatever she had planned would all be worth it. The only clothing adorning her body were black leather bikini panties and black, knee-high boots with spike heels. Charms like what I was wearing, only slightly larger, dangled from her nipple rings. One was a coiled whip, and the other was two women making love in the '69' position.
It did not take long before I started to understand the consequences of not being supported by the seat. Simply hanging by my bound arms quickly put pressure on my shoulders. Initially, I relieved this strain by using the muscles of my upper body and legs to press against the post. However, these muscles quickly tired and I then had to relax again, putting the strain back on my shoulders. I then tried using only the muscles of my legs to push my body upward. Since anything I tried only worked for only a short time, a vicious circle was created. In addition, my tongue was becoming somewhat numb because of the damn clothespins, although I could still feel some pain. I thought I could get her to remove the pins if I somehow could indicate my discomfort. Being unable to speak, I grunted my desire to her and wriggled the end of my tongue.
"Oooh! It seems as if my widdle pet wants her Mistress to free her tongue so she can speak," she chided. "Is her Mistress correct?" I quickly nodded my head and grunted a feeble uh-huh. The damn pins shook at the same time. She continued, "Well, love, if you remember correctly, our purpose for being here is to satisfy your Mistress' sadistic desires and to test your limits for pain. She regrets to inform you that her pleasure has just started." I winced when she added two more pins to the side of my tongue. "Since your vocal ability is somewhat restrained, I will recognize an attempt at singing as your safe word."
Even though I could not avoid it, I was somewhat embarrassed by the dribble of saliva that was now exiting the corners of my mouth and falling from my chin onto my chest.
Quickly divested of my own nipple hardware and chains, I suddenly felt naked (pun intended). I watched intently as Kelly reached into the shoebox while commenting, "Tonight, my dear pet, we will do something I've started several times while working a scene, but never finished." Holding up one clothespin, she asked. "Would you like to know what that something is?"
"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I, since I, obviously, am to be intimately involved?" I thought, before politely nodding, slowly this time. As I indicated, movement of my head caused the clothespins to wiggle even harder, exacerbating the pain. It's a physics thing. The farther an object extends from its fulcrum point, the greater it's vertical movement. Since the fulcrum point was the center of my tongue, the tip was also moving up and down. Sorry for the physics lesson, but I thought you should understand my problem.
"I've never had time to empty my box of clothespins. With your kind assistance, tonight we will finally do just that.
" I moaned through my improvised gag. "I am sure you also want to know how many pins are in the box." I nodded again. "I'm not really sure anymore but will guess somewhere between fifty and seventy-five. I will count them for you as I put them on so we can get an accurate count for the next time. And," she continued, "I think there are a couple surprises awaiting you at the bottom."
Without another word, Kelly grasped the flesh of my arm just above the elbow, between her thumb and index finger, pulled it out, opened the jaws of a clothespin with her other hand and attached the pin to my captured flesh. I immediately knew I was in for a serious session of pain transference. It fucking HURT! Oh, gawd, it hurt. She continued this tactic, slowly and methodically, until my arms were firmly in the grip of sixteen nasty pins, eight on each.
Totally in silence (hers, not mine), except for the count, Kelly continued her quest, by pinning eight clothespins to the bottoms of each my breasts (sixteen more). I was astonished as I watched them form semicircles of captured flesh about halfway between my nipples and ribcage. These pins hurt even more than the ones on my arms, even though what she and Sam had done during my massage was similar. I think the pain each one extracted was exponentially greater than the previous one. At least I felt that way. I could not help but moan as each jaw clamped over a small piece of my skin.
I assumed my nipples were next, but she fooled me by moving to the insides of my thighs where she applied ten to each. The total pain from the pins gripping my flesh was reaching a critical level and near what I imagined would be my threshold. Tears were now streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the saliva dripping faster from my open mouth. I started to shake my head violently and started to yell at Kelly and, I think, even called her a bitch for putting me through this when she pulled on my left labium. Thankfully my vocal obscenities were made somewhat unintelligible by my pinned tongue. Either that or she was simply ignoring me. I knew it was still a possibility she knew what I was saying, but I didn't give a damn. I wanted to hum my safety in the worst possible way, but somehow avoided it. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was a masochist and a pain slut. No punishment could be worse than this. Or so I thought.
It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea how many more clothespins were in that fucking box. I couldn't see into it. I quickly mentally calculated the damage so far and, at the same time, realized that I still had a lot of exposed flesh left to fulfill Kelly's sadistic desires. The ten she placed on my cunt (5 on each side) had brought the count to sixty-six including the four on my tongue. I closed my eyes in despair when she reached into the box again.
When I opened them (she had purposely waited), she was holding one pin in each hand in front of my face. With a supercilious grin she said, "I'll bet you think you know where these are going, don't you, pet?" I nodded and looked down at my unfettered nipples. Wrong! Before I knew what was happening, I was wearing new ear decorations. The pain shot through my lobes. I suddenly wondered how women ever wore those damn clip-on style earrings. Hell, some still do!
When the next pin was clipped to my septum, I groaned loudly one more time and thought to myself, "Sixty-nine is such a nice number. Maybe we should make that the last one." My thankful heart quickly sank when Kelly reached down to the dreaded box again. I was even closer to humming my 'safety.' Maybe pride and narcissism kept me going. I couldn't let Kelly know she could get the best of me.
She picked up another handful of those tortuous devices and started pinning them to the skin between my toes. If you have never done this, I have one piece of advice. DON'T. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when she announced there were only eight more wooden clothes pins left, adding, "A perfect number. Spread your fingers, dear." I really wanted to call her every name in the book as she clipped them in place. Again, I recommend DON'T do it. It isn't bad at first, but the pain intensifies.
"I said those were the last wooden pins, pet, but not the last pins. There are three left. While that might please you initially, I am telling you only because they will be the worst." She held three large, plastic clothespins up for me to see. "The springs in these are much heavier than the wood ones, and the jaws are serrated." Two of the pins were pink and one was blue. I knew where they were going. My nipples were already engorged and waiting. Kelly didn't let me down this time. She captured my left nipple in the jaws of one pink pin. She didn't lie. The pain from all the previous pins was nothing in comparison. This time it was excruciating. Had I not been in bondage, I would have immediately sunk to the floor and curled into a fetal position. I screamed as much as I could and continued screaming when my other nipple was also clamped.
Delaying the inevitable, Kelly wiped her fingers along my pussy. "You really are a slut. You are enjoying this even more than I thought you would, pet. My cunt is dipping. You left a couple drops on the floor." The viscous liquid felt good as she wiped her wet digits across my dry lips and a second batch across the top of my tongue. I was breathing through my mouth so hard, my tongue was dry. While I wanted her to do it again, she continued to entertain herself by slipping the index and middle finger of her left hand into my tunnel of love. An endorphin rush quickly enveloped me. In only seconds I knew that I wanted her to fuck me with her hand. With what little movement my bondage position permitted, I attempted to push down on her hand as she pushed up. She stopped after only a few strokes. I moaned. I could not believe that my mistress was continuing to me torment like this. I kept screaming, "Please Mistress." Try opening your mouth wide, stick your tongue out and say that without moving your jaw. You will know the sound that came from my mouth. It was unintelligible.
It did not take long before I started to understand the consequences of not being supported by the seat. Simply hanging by my bound arms quickly put pressure on my shoulders. Initially, I relieved this strain by using the muscles of my upper body and legs to press against the post. However, these muscles quickly tired and I then had to relax again, putting the strain back on my shoulders. I then tried using only the muscles of my legs to push my body upward. Since anything I tried only worked for only a short time, a vicious circle was created. In addition, my tongue was becoming somewhat numb because of the damn clothespins, although I could still feel some pain. I thought I could get her to remove the pins if I somehow could indicate my discomfort. Being unable to speak, I grunted my desire to her and wriggled the end of my tongue.
"Oooh! It seems as if my widdle pet wants her Mistress to free her tongue so she can speak," she chided. "Is her Mistress correct?" I quickly nodded my head and grunted a feeble uh-huh. The damn pins shook at the same time. She continued, "Well, love, if you remember correctly, our purpose for being here is to satisfy your Mistress' sadistic desires and to test your limits for pain. She regrets to inform you that her pleasure has just started." I winced when she added two more pins to the side of my tongue. "Since your vocal ability is somewhat restrained, I will recognize an attempt at singing as your safe word."
Even though I could not avoid it, I was somewhat embarrassed by the dribble of saliva that was now exiting the corners of my mouth and falling from my chin onto my chest.
Quickly divested of my own nipple hardware and chains, I suddenly felt naked (pun intended). I watched intently as Kelly reached into the shoebox while commenting, "Tonight, my dear pet, we will do something I've started several times while working a scene, but never finished." Holding up one clothespin, she asked. "Would you like to know what that something is?"
"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I, since I, obviously, am to be intimately involved?" I thought, before politely nodding, slowly this time. As I indicated, movement of my head caused the clothespins to wiggle even harder, exacerbating the pain. It's a physics thing. The farther an object extends from its fulcrum point, the greater it's vertical movement. Since the fulcrum point was the center of my tongue, the tip was also moving up and down. Sorry for the physics lesson, but I thought you should understand my problem.
"I've never had time to empty my box of clothespins. With your kind assistance, tonight we will finally do just that.
" I moaned through my improvised gag. "I am sure you also want to know how many pins are in the box." I nodded again. "I'm not really sure anymore but will guess somewhere between fifty and seventy-five. I will count them for you as I put them on so we can get an accurate count for the next time. And," she continued, "I think there are a couple surprises awaiting you at the bottom."
Without another word, Kelly grasped the flesh of my arm just above the elbow, between her thumb and index finger, pulled it out, opened the jaws of a clothespin with her other hand and attached the pin to my captured flesh. I immediately knew I was in for a serious session of pain transference. It fucking HURT! Oh, gawd, it hurt. She continued this tactic, slowly and methodically, until my arms were firmly in the grip of sixteen nasty pins, eight on each.
Totally in silence (hers, not mine), except for the count, Kelly continued her quest, by pinning eight clothespins to the bottoms of each my breasts (sixteen more). I was astonished as I watched them form semicircles of captured flesh about halfway between my nipples and ribcage. These pins hurt even more than the ones on my arms, even though what she and Sam had done during my massage was similar. I think the pain each one extracted was exponentially greater than the previous one. At least I felt that way. I could not help but moan as each jaw clamped over a small piece of my skin.
I assumed my nipples were next, but she fooled me by moving to the insides of my thighs where she applied ten to each. The total pain from the pins gripping my flesh was reaching a critical level and near what I imagined would be my threshold. Tears were now streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the saliva dripping faster from my open mouth. I started to shake my head violently and started to yell at Kelly and, I think, even called her a bitch for putting me through this when she pulled on my left labium. Thankfully my vocal obscenities were made somewhat unintelligible by my pinned tongue. Either that or she was simply ignoring me. I knew it was still a possibility she knew what I was saying, but I didn't give a damn. I wanted to hum my safety in the worst possible way, but somehow avoided it. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was a masochist and a pain slut. No punishment could be worse than this. Or so I thought.
It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea how many more clothespins were in that fucking box. I couldn't see into it. I quickly mentally calculated the damage so far and, at the same time, realized that I still had a lot of exposed flesh left to fulfill Kelly's sadistic desires. The ten she placed on my cunt (5 on each side) had brought the count to sixty-six including the four on my tongue. I closed my eyes in despair when she reached into the box again.
When I opened them (she had purposely waited), she was holding one pin in each hand in front of my face. With a supercilious grin she said, "I'll bet you think you know where these are going, don't you, pet?" I nodded and looked down at my unfettered nipples. Wrong! Before I knew what was happening, I was wearing new ear decorations. The pain shot through my lobes. I suddenly wondered how women ever wore those damn clip-on style earrings. Hell, some still do!
When the next pin was clipped to my septum, I groaned loudly one more time and thought to myself, "Sixty-nine is such a nice number. Maybe we should make that the last one." My thankful heart quickly sank when Kelly reached down to the dreaded box again. I was even closer to humming my 'safety.' Maybe pride and narcissism kept me going. I couldn't let Kelly know she could get the best of me.
She picked up another handful of those tortuous devices and started pinning them to the skin between my toes. If you have never done this, I have one piece of advice. DON'T. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when she announced there were only eight more wooden clothes pins left, adding, "A perfect number. Spread your fingers, dear." I really wanted to call her every name in the book as she clipped them in place. Again, I recommend DON'T do it. It isn't bad at first, but the pain intensifies.
"I said those were the last wooden pins, pet, but not the last pins. There are three left. While that might please you initially, I am telling you only because they will be the worst." She held three large, plastic clothespins up for me to see. "The springs in these are much heavier than the wood ones, and the jaws are serrated." Two of the pins were pink and one was blue. I knew where they were going. My nipples were already engorged and waiting. Kelly didn't let me down this time. She captured my left nipple in the jaws of one pink pin. She didn't lie. The pain from all the previous pins was nothing in comparison. This time it was excruciating. Had I not been in bondage, I would have immediately sunk to the floor and curled into a fetal position. I screamed as much as I could and continued screaming when my other nipple was also clamped.
Delaying the inevitable, Kelly wiped her fingers along my pussy. "You really are a slut. You are enjoying this even more than I thought you would, pet. My cunt is dipping. You left a couple drops on the floor." The viscous liquid felt good as she wiped her wet digits across my dry lips and a second batch across the top of my tongue. I was breathing through my mouth so hard, my tongue was dry. While I wanted her to do it again, she continued to entertain herself by slipping the index and middle finger of her left hand into my tunnel of love. An endorphin rush quickly enveloped me. In only seconds I knew that I wanted her to fuck me with her hand. With what little movement my bondage position permitted, I attempted to push down on her hand as she pushed up. She stopped after only a few strokes. I moaned. I could not believe that my mistress was continuing to me torment like this. I kept screaming, "Please Mistress." Try opening your mouth wide, stick your tongue out and say that without moving your jaw. You will know the sound that came from my mouth. It was unintelligible.
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