Pain and Pleasure Read Free Page B

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