Read Online Erotic Amusements by Justine Elyot - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Justine Elyot
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had taken offence at Charles lecturing him on disciplinary technique. But then she felt a hand, not Charles’, thicker and rougher, on her seared behind and she was too busy wincing for further analysis.
Charles helped her to her feet and commanded her to remain with her back to the audience and her hands on her head while he and the councillor lifted the whipping bench and carried it out of the spotlight. She watched, longing to slip her hands down to her bottom and rub it, but not daring to, as they wheeled the medical examining table into its place.
“You will, of course, want to take a thorough inventory of your new acquisition’s attributes,” Charles said, smiling broadly as the table rolled to a halt, with a slight squeak, beside Michelle.
“Oh, I should certainly think so,” agreed Trewin.
“Up,” ordered Charles, and she hoisted herself onto the table, hissing as her sore flesh made contact, even though the coldness of the leather was welcome.
Lying flat, she had to shut her eyes against the penetrating glare of the striplight, but that was okay because she enjoyed the consequent heightening of her senses. She gasped with pleasure as hands of indeterminate ownership snapped her wrists into cuffs, then lifted her legs to bend at the knee, then spread wide, before her ankles were similarly secured. Footsteps echoed around her, then there was some tutting.
“She is not exposed enough. We need to pull back her knees.”
They uncuffed her ankles. Then her knees were retracted almost to the level of her ears. A rubber loop was placed around each one and clipped to her wrist cuffs. This placed her in the position of maximum exposure, her pussy and arsehole both spread wide and open for viewing. It seemed odd that she was still wearing the white lacy basque, but she was soon made aware of their intentions for it, hearing the soft shearing sound of sharp scissors cut it in two from cups to frilled hem. It fell to either side of her, releasing her breasts and belly to the audience’s gaze.
“What do you think of her nipples?” asked Charles, and strong hands cupped her tits, squeezing and pinching the yielding flesh.
“Nice ones, aren’t they? Not too small to bite, nice shade of red.”
“Even nicer after clamping,” noted Charles.
“Oh, yes, we’ll have to try that.” The fingers began to roll and pull at her nipples; sharp, stabbing pain streaked down and tickled her crotch. Then there was the point of a tongue, flicking from one side to the other, the wetness produced making the pinching hurt more.
“Ohh,” she moaned involuntarily, and was rewarded by the insertion of a large rubber ball gag into her hungry mouth. For some reason, Michelle always found the gag the most humiliating touch of all—perhaps because it spoiled her face and made her drool out the side, which was undignified. As if lying there with everything on show wasn’t…She knew it was irrational, but she bit down on the scarlet sphere obediently and tried not to let it get to her.
Evil metal clips were placed on her nipples, but her urge to vocalise the pain was stifled by the gag and all she could do was try to wriggle her restrained hips and clench her fists.
“Let’s leave them on for twenty minutes,” suggested Charles, and she knew that he was setting his watch alarm as he spoke. Timing was important to Charles. Timing and observing the formalities. Those were what Charles was all about.
Now the hot flush of pain was spreading in ever-larger circles, out beyond Michelle’s nipples then joining into one red rush that flooded her pussy. She knew that Charles and Trewin would have noticed this, and, true to form, it was commented upon immediately.
“See her cunt. It’s soaking wet. The strap and the cane and the clamps have worked their strange magic on her.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Trewin reverently. There was a band of brightness at Michelle’s eyelids, and she realised that
Charles helped her to her feet and commanded her to remain with her back to the audience and her hands on her head while he and the councillor lifted the whipping bench and carried it out of the spotlight. She watched, longing to slip her hands down to her bottom and rub it, but not daring to, as they wheeled the medical examining table into its place.
“You will, of course, want to take a thorough inventory of your new acquisition’s attributes,” Charles said, smiling broadly as the table rolled to a halt, with a slight squeak, beside Michelle.
“Oh, I should certainly think so,” agreed Trewin.
“Up,” ordered Charles, and she hoisted herself onto the table, hissing as her sore flesh made contact, even though the coldness of the leather was welcome.
Lying flat, she had to shut her eyes against the penetrating glare of the striplight, but that was okay because she enjoyed the consequent heightening of her senses. She gasped with pleasure as hands of indeterminate ownership snapped her wrists into cuffs, then lifted her legs to bend at the knee, then spread wide, before her ankles were similarly secured. Footsteps echoed around her, then there was some tutting.
“She is not exposed enough. We need to pull back her knees.”
They uncuffed her ankles. Then her knees were retracted almost to the level of her ears. A rubber loop was placed around each one and clipped to her wrist cuffs. This placed her in the position of maximum exposure, her pussy and arsehole both spread wide and open for viewing. It seemed odd that she was still wearing the white lacy basque, but she was soon made aware of their intentions for it, hearing the soft shearing sound of sharp scissors cut it in two from cups to frilled hem. It fell to either side of her, releasing her breasts and belly to the audience’s gaze.
“What do you think of her nipples?” asked Charles, and strong hands cupped her tits, squeezing and pinching the yielding flesh.
“Nice ones, aren’t they? Not too small to bite, nice shade of red.”
“Even nicer after clamping,” noted Charles.
“Oh, yes, we’ll have to try that.” The fingers began to roll and pull at her nipples; sharp, stabbing pain streaked down and tickled her crotch. Then there was the point of a tongue, flicking from one side to the other, the wetness produced making the pinching hurt more.
“Ohh,” she moaned involuntarily, and was rewarded by the insertion of a large rubber ball gag into her hungry mouth. For some reason, Michelle always found the gag the most humiliating touch of all—perhaps because it spoiled her face and made her drool out the side, which was undignified. As if lying there with everything on show wasn’t…She knew it was irrational, but she bit down on the scarlet sphere obediently and tried not to let it get to her.
Evil metal clips were placed on her nipples, but her urge to vocalise the pain was stifled by the gag and all she could do was try to wriggle her restrained hips and clench her fists.
“Let’s leave them on for twenty minutes,” suggested Charles, and she knew that he was setting his watch alarm as he spoke. Timing was important to Charles. Timing and observing the formalities. Those were what Charles was all about.
Now the hot flush of pain was spreading in ever-larger circles, out beyond Michelle’s nipples then joining into one red rush that flooded her pussy. She knew that Charles and Trewin would have noticed this, and, true to form, it was commented upon immediately.
“See her cunt. It’s soaking wet. The strap and the cane and the clamps have worked their strange magic on her.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Trewin reverently. There was a band of brightness at Michelle’s eyelids, and she realised that
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