I nod and somehow manage to relax against him, my body limp as David supports my weight. He continues to tug and twist at my nipples, the pain intense but just the right side of manageable. It takes every last shred of willpower I can call on to keep my hands behind me and remain still. As I’m approaching the point where I know my resolve will snap, David murmurs again in my ear.
“We’re there.”
Ewan has been leaning against one of the bedposts, watching my progress. Now he steps forward, the nipple clamps and weights in his hands.
“Stand up, girl.”
David releases his grip on my nipples and helps me to get to my feet. My legs are stiff, my stance far from steady. Again David is behind me, his hands on my shoulders.
“Okay?”
I nod. “Yes, I think so, sir.” I lift my gaze to meet Ewan’s eyes. He is directly in front of me, the clamps at the ready.
“Keep your hands at your sides. David, the right one first, I think.”
“Sure.” David reaches around me to cup my right breast. He takes its weight, offering it for Ewan’s attention. I glance down at the tip, swollen, cherry pink, stillthrobbing mercilessly. Ewan takes it between his fingers and squeezes hard.
“Ouch. Please, sir, that’s too much.” I hadn’t meant to protest, but the words are out before I can apply my filter.
“You know your safe word. Do you want to use it now?” Ewan pauses, his grip not loosening at all.
I shake my head in vehement denial. “No, sir. No. It was just, I mean…”
“Close your eyes if it helps. You’ll be able to feel everything, but you don’t have to watch.” Ewan sounds maybe a little less cold, but the difference is marginal. I opt to take his advice though, and allow my eyelids to droop. David’s free arm is around my waist, holding me steady. Despite what’s happening, I feel incredibly safe.
I grimace, I think, as Ewan completes his task. The tugging and twisting on my distended nipple is excruciating. The metal is cool as he slides the two arms into place, then he tightens the device slowly. I reach my pain threshold and open my mouth to plead again. I don’t have to. He stops.
“Good girl. Now the left.”
David switches hands, and the process is repeated. I keep my eyes closed throughout. The second clamp seems to be secured more quickly than the first, or perhaps it’s simply that I now know what to expect and I’m managing the pain better.
“Very pretty. Would you like to look, Charity?”
I open my eyes to see Ewan smiling, his expression one of intense pride. And, just possibly, a hint of relief. My stomach twists, my satisfaction at having not disappointed him beyond anything I’ve experienced before. Perhaps it’s the presence of a third person, the sense that I’m somehow on display. I want Ewan to be proud of me. I want to be proud of me, and I am.
Ewan steps aside to allow me an unimpeded view ofmy reflection in the mirrored wall opposite. My almost nude body is pale in contract to David’s dark clothing behind me. I am silhouetted against him, still relying on his support to keep me upright. My hips are narrow but pleasantly curved, my clamped breasts fuller than they normally appear, though maybe I’m imagining that. My nipples are large, elongated, adorned by the delicate-looking tweezers. They look pretty but in this case appearances can be deceptive. They hurt like hell.
“Now the weights I think. Hold still.”
Ewan fastens a bullet weight to each clamp, just above the clip. The effect is to put a constant pressure on my already sore tips, a pressure that intensifies every time I move as the weights swing from my breasts.
“Go over to the bed and take hold of one of the posts. Lean forward and stick your arse out.”
Ewan’s instructions are succinct and clear. I make my unsteady way across the few feet of carpet to take hold of the nearest post, at the foot of the bed. I lean on it, trapping the weights between the post and my body to stop them swinging. I arch my back slightly.
“Charity, you know better than that. This is a spanking, not a bloody waltz. Bend right over, lift your bum up. I want to see those weights swinging like two pendulums. Spread your legs too. We want to see that sweet tush of yours. Show us your pussy, girl. Show us what a wet little slut you are.”
“I am wet, sir. I swear I am.”
“Show me. Now.”
With a groan I shift into the position he’s described. I widen my stance, placing my feet maybe a yard from the post and leaning forward to hold on. I bend at the waist, arching my back to lift my bare bottom up for them to spank. My thighs are spread as wide as I’m able, the air cool against my wet cunt. The weights do indeed dangle unrestrained from my distended nipples. The pain is indescribable, constant now rather than intermittent. Inthis position I can do nothing to protect my nipples, and once Ewan and David start to spank me I know it will be much worse.
Even so, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.
I look over my shoulder as David again opens the blanket chest. This time he selects two spanking paddles. He hands one to Ewan.
“What do you think? Not too heavy? You know how she likes this.”
