“If you notice how the curve of the wood aids in supporting a leather or fur-lined cuff. There's no amount of detail that man doesn't cover.”
Sophie offered her wrists, and Aiden guided them to open mid-size circles for capture. He carefully closed the hinge and ran his finger along the edge, ensuring they weren't too tight against the leather cuffs.
“How does it feel?”
“Good, the wood is heavy.” Sophie couldn't imagine having a submissive locked with both wrists, holding the full weight without the chain.
He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re going to be so perfect for us. Just focus on us. Nothing else exists.” His words were calm, even though they knew the intention was to keep her in a state of sensory overload.
Zack approached from behind and wrapped his arm around Sophie's stomach. Aiden knelt before her and grabbed her ankle,his movements efficient and sure. “One leg free,” he stated, fastening a soft leather cuff around her ankle. He fastened it with a quick-release clip at the base of the stockade, leaving her right leg unbound. The asymmetry was immediately unsettling, making her feel off-balance and even more exposed.
The pulley creaked as they took her wrists and pulled them up, raising her arms high above her head until she was stretched taut, standing on her toes in the high heels.
Zack held her, allowing her body to find a new center of gravity as she adjusted to her bonds. He placed his lips against the nape of her neck. Nipping until she squeaked in protest. When he pulled back, his lips brushed her ear, his voice a low, intimate rumble that was for her alone. “I want to hear the sounds you make when you stop thinking, where all you know is how I make you feel.”
The promise in those words made her clit throb, a sudden, insistent pulse of need.
Aiden returned and pressed Sophie's body tightly against Zack, their combined body heat searing through the lace of her bodysuit.
He kissed her, hard and demanding, stealing the air from her lungs.
Zack held his hand out in front of them, dangling two silver nipple clamps, connected by a delicate chain, and a smaller, terrifying-looking contraption with a tiny, toothy clamp and a small, silver bell. Aiden took the offered clamps from Zack.
“Such pretty tits,” Zack said, his thumb brushing over one lace-covered nipple, making it peak instantly. “A blank canvas for our marks.” He pinched the taut bud through the fabric, a sharp, bright pain that made her gasp. He continued to manipulate her sensitive skin before cupping the heavy flesh in offering to Aiden, who attached the first clamp. The pressure was immediate and intense, a constant, aching throb. Heattached the second, and the chain between them pulled taut, a delicious weight.
Aiden held up a smaller one. “This is for your pretty little clit.” He hooked a finger into the front of her bodysuit, tearing the delicate lace with a soft rip to expose her. The air was cool on her slick, swollen folds. He gently took the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger, and her whole body jolted. With practiced ease, he fixed the clamp in place.
“Daddy! Fuck,” she cried, her body warbled between them. Sophie resisted the urge to clamp her knees together, knowing it would only intensify the ache.
The pressure was exquisite, walking the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain. And then she moved, just a slight shift of her hips to alleviate the sensation, and the tiny bell on the clamptinkled.
Sophie's cheeks pinked.
Zack’s laugh was a dark, joyful sound. “Oh, fuck yes. Every time you squirm, every time you try to get away, you’ll announce it to the whole club. You’re our little jingle-bell slut, Sophie.”
The humiliation was a hot flood in her veins, and the bell tinkled again as she shuddered.
The scene began in earnest then. Zack picked up a flogger, the falls of soft black leather whispering against the floor. He drew his arm back and brought it forward in a smooth, practiced arc. The first strike landed across her upper thighs, a soft, stinging sensation that bloomed into heat.
“One,” she gasped, the bell on her clit chiming softly. “Thank you, Sir.”
Aiden stood before her, holding her gaze. “You know the rules, Sophie. Eyes on me. Are you a good girl?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then you’ll show us and take it.” He picked up a short, thin paddle from the table.
Zack struck again, a little harder, a little lower. “Two!”
As the number left her lips, Aiden brought the paddle down on the opposite thigh with a sharp crack. The pain was sharper, more focused, and she cried out, the bell jingling madly.
Her vision blurred, her body pulsing with heated need.
“Fuck, listen to that,” Zack groaned, clearly aroused by the sound. They fell into a rhythm, a brutal, beautiful dance of pain. Zack with the flogger, painting broad strokes of fire across her ass and thighs. Aiden with the paddle, adding precise, stinging accents. Then Zack switched to a crop, landing searing lines that made her muscles jump and the bell sing its pathetic, humiliating song.
“Thank you, Sir!” Her body swung with their strikes, unable to avoid their honed attention.
They were edging her mercilessly. Just as the pain threatened to overwhelm her, one of them would stroke her, Aiden tracing a cool finger over her fevered skin, Zack palming the wet spot that had soaked through the torn lace of her bodysuit. “Such a beautiful wet cunt.” He pulled his fingers from between her thighs and quickly silenced her protest when he pressed them against her tongue.
