I sink into the sensations. Fight or flight turns to all out pride at his words.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Did you enjoy the nettles last time?” he asks, and I nod with a smile on my face.
“I loved them. And I loved the clamps, and the bound tits, and the whips, and the stretching and the fucking. I loved all of it. Every single part.” I’m rambling, but I let my mouth run free. “I want it all again. Every single bit. I want to be even better. I want to take even more.”
“Shh,” he says. “You make no demands, Holly. You will get what you’re given, and give us everything we want in return. And tonight, my beautiful slut, you are going to be a canvas for us. A bleeding canvas.”
My breaths hitch at his words.Bleeding. What the hell does he mean?! Knife play? Are the founders going to cut me tonight? Are they going to razor blade me? Are they going to slice me to pieces?
My throat dries up at the rustling sound in front of me. My master is getting something ready. Preparing. Shit. I blink inside the hood, desperate for a glimpse, but I can’t see a thing.
“Tell me, have you been pierced before, Holly?” he asks, and runs something sharp and pointed down one of my heaving tits.
“Um, yeah. My ears, Master.”
My ears?!
How fucking embarrassing for an answer.
I yelp and feel like a total novice when he jabs a thin spike of a needle at the side of my nipple, because this is nothing whatsoever like a fucking ear piercing. It stings like fuck.
There’s something about needles that freaks me out. I’m glad I’m shackled upright, because my legs are literally quaking right now. I’m lightheaded as I hear more rustling, wondering what is coming next.
“Let’s get you ready, slut,” he says. “What a stunning canvas you’re going to make with these beautiful big tits bound tight.”
The twine he uses is so fine that it digs into my flesh like wire as he binds my tits, one after the other. It’s ribbon that comes next as he crushes them together and binds them as one.
I adore this sensation. The throb of my tits is a painful delight. I can imagine them swelling pink as my master buckles a collar around my neck. I can feel the O-ring against my throat, just underneath the hood binding. I love the way he attaches a hook and binds my tits with one more round of ribbon and hoists them up.
This is perfection. Not only are my tits roped and swelling, but they are hung by my collar, pressure rising. It sends ripples of nerves all the way down my body. The throb of my tits makes my clit throb in tandem, and he’s already got me. I’m desperate.
“Fuck, yes,” I say through the fabric, and tip my head back as he flicks my swelling nipples.
“Beautiful,” he tells me. “Now, to turn you into a piece of sparkling, needled art. Do you want that, dirty girl? To be speared by metal thorns, and bleed tiny rivers? You’ll be laddered by so many pretty silver spears that you’ll shimmer under the lights. Do you want that?”
I’m so consumed by the pulse in my tits, that needle phobia suddenly doesn’t feel so bad.
“Yes, please, Master. I want to be a canvas for you.”
I gasp as he slides his fingers against my pussy. Just the slightest glance against my clit makes me groan.
“How about this tender cunt?” he asks. “How many needles do you think you’ll be able to take through those gorgeous pussy lips?”
My nerves buzz alongside my horniness at that. It’s so intense it makes me squirm in my shackles.
I know what I should say. I know what Iwantto say, but I have to take a deep breath before I can manage it.
“I’ll take as many as you’ll give me, Master. Use my cunt however you want.”
I cry out as he pinches my clit. Just a tease but enough to have me panting.
“And your most sacred places? How about just here?”
I can’t deny the damn nerves at that. I pause and stiffen, and he chuckles.
“Have I found a limit, Holly? Will you use your safe word if I want to force a needle through your swollen clit?”
