Steve placed his thumb and forefinger just below her jawline and applied enough pressure to get her attention.
She gasped, her hands nearly lifting from the table, though she managed to stop herself in time.
“That response is not good enough in this dungeon,” Steve corrected her. “Answer the question with a yes or a no.”
A tremor rippled through her body, her nipples stiffening to erect points at the center of each breast, his grip on her throat clearly a powerful trigger. “Yes,” she managed. “Yes, Sir Stephen. I can do that.”
Satisfied, he released her throat and took a step back. He nodded toward Zach, who placed his gloved hands lightly over both of Shea’s breasts. Zach began to move his hands along her body as Steve stepped over to the supply counter to get what he needed.
He returned with a candle, a box of matches, a single tail whip, a small bowl of ice cubes and a feather duster.
As Zach moved his hands down Shea’s abdomen, he left pale pink scratches on her skin. She was doing an admirable job of remaining still, though her hands, Steve now noted, were curled into fists.
Using the handle of the single tail, he tapped at each fist in turn. “Uncurl your fingers,” he commanded. “Open yourself to what’s happening to you.”
After several seconds, Shea finally obeyed, letting her hands fall open at her sides.
Steve reached for her throat, catching her again just below the jawline.
Shea jerked at his touch and cried out.
Without removing his hand, he said, “You can do better, S. When either of us gives you a command, you obey instantly, not in your own sweet time.” To emphasize the point, he grabbed the single tail with his other hand and struck her right breast.
Shea gasped in pain, her fingers twitching, but, to her credit, she managed to keep her arms at her sides.
The sight of the welt, first white and then flushing to an angry red across the top of her right breast, made Steve’s cock hard as a rock. He briefly fantasized about pulling her forward so her head dangled from the edge of the table and thrusting his cock deep into her throat. Well aware that this went far beyond the parameters of basic submissive training, he kept himself under control.
Steve set down the single tail and picked up the candle and the box of matches. “Open your knees wider,” he ordered the sub. “Show us your cunt.”
With a tremulous sigh, Shea did as she was commanded.
Zach touched his spiked fingertips to Shea’s cunt while Steve lit the candle. Shea moaned as Zach began to move his fingers in a circular pattern against her labia and clit.
Steve held the candle over her breasts. Shea squealed as the first hot drops of melted wax splashed against her flesh. Steve reached for a piece of ice and ran it along the welt he had placed there a moment before. Shea shuddered and drew in a sharp, gasping breath.
Zach reached for the single tail with his left hand, while still stroking Shea’s clit with his right, his fingers now angled in such a way that the spikes were not involved.
Shea moaned like an animal in heat, the scent of her musk hanging in the air like an aphrodisiac.
All at once, Zach withdrew his gloved hand and let the single tail snap, albeit lightly, against the girl’s spread pussy.
With a cry, Shea slammed her legs closed, her hands coming up in front of her body as if to ward off an attack.
“That’s another infraction,” Steve said sternly. “How dare you raise your hands to us? Put them at your sides and open your legs. Now.”
Shea was panting, her body trembling. Zach and Steve exchanged a look—it was possible they were moving too quickly, and she would fail the exercise, but Steve didn’t think so. Shea O’Connor, despite her innocence and her lack of experience, had that special kind of submissive courage that would allow her to get through this, if only she could dig deep enough within herself to harness it. Steve waited, silently willing her to succeed.
She dropped her arms back to the padded table and parted her legs, exposing her pussy once more without knowledge of what might, or might not, come next.
Zach and Steve smiled at one another. Then Zach flicked the whip in the air just beside her thigh. Shea flinched and gasped, her knees again closing like a gate.
“Stop anticipating,” Steve reminded her sharply. “Back into position.”
“I don’t know if I can, Sir,” Shea gasped. “You’re scaring me.”
“Work through the fear,” Zach said in his deep, gentle voice. “That’s a part of submission. Harness your fear and let it make you strong.”
Again Shea opened her knees, and again Zach snapped the whip in the air. This time, though she startled, Shea managed to maintain her position. Zach and Steve exchanged a glance of approval. She was a quick learner, and clearly she was trying her best to obey.
They alternated without any discernable pattern so she would stop trying to anticipate as they splashed hot droplets of wax over her skin, or stroked her breasts and inner thighs with the feather duster and the texture gloves, or drew ice over heated flesh marked by the single tail.
They stimulated, tortured, stroked and teased her until at last she stopped clenching her fists, bunching her muscles or flinching with anticipation. Only when she lay completely still and open to them, her mouth slack, her body sheened with sweat, her hair a wild torrent around her face, did they relent.
Finally, Zach removed the mask, and Shea blinked up at him as she focused. “Hey,” he said softly. “You did great. How’re you doing?”
“Wonderful, Sir,” she breathed with such fervent sincerity that both Zach and Steve laughed with delight.
~*~
Zach’s cock was so hard that its outline was completely visible against the soft leather of his pants. He couldn’t remember working with such a responsive, sensitive submissive. While he’d enjoyed the anticipation exercise, he’d especially loved bringing Shea to such a powerful orgasm.
The way she had shuddered and moaned as he’d stroked her sopping wet cunt had made him feel not only as powerful as a god but also oddly protective, as if he were the lifeline that kept her tethered to the earth, as if only he could keep her safe at the same time as he pushed her over the edge.
Steve assisted Shea to a sitting position and Zach helped her from the table, steadying her as her feet touched the floor.
“Now,” Steve said, “It’s time for your punishment.”
As if suddenly aware of her nudity, Shea placed one arm across her breasts, the other at an angle over her stomach and crotch.
“Hands at your side,” Zach reminded her.
“What do you think, Zach,” Steve said, “Shall we put her on the punishment brick?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Zach replied.
“The punishment brick, Sir?” Shea echoed in a squeak.
“Do you have a specific question, S?” Steve asked with an arch of his eyebrow.
She looked from him to Zach and then back to Steve. “Uh, no Sir,” she managed.
Good girl. She was learning.
They led her to the punishment corner, where chains hung from the ceiling, cuffs dangling at their ends. Zach pulled one of the large cement bricks they kept for this purpose from its place against the wall and set it beneath the chains. He helped Shea step up onto the brick, keeping his hands on her waist as she struggled to find her balance. The brick was about twenty-two inches long and fifteen inches wide, its surface rough against bare feet.
Steve, meanwhile, brought over a small stepladder. Climbing up, he reached to adjust the chains to the proper height. “Lift your arms over your head,” he directed Shea. “I’m going to cuff your wrists. Make sure you keep your feet firmly on the block, or you’ll find yourself dangling off the ground.”
She cast Zach one last pleading glance before lifting her arms over her head.
You can do it, he urged silently, offering an encouraging smile.
Steve wrapped the cuffs snugly around each of her wrists and then adjus
ted the chains to pull her arms taut overhead. Shea shifted precariously on the brick, executing an involuntary little dance as she found her footing once more.
As Zach replaced the stepladder against the wall, Steve went to the supply cabinet and returned with a pair of clover clamps and a soft fabric gag. He handed the gag to Zach and then held up the clamps for Shea to see. “Do you know what these are, S?” Steve asked.
Though he felt almost sorry for Shea, Zach couldn’t deny his arousal. He loved a good punishment. And after all, she did need correction.
Shea stared at the nipple clamps and slowly nodded, catching her lower lip in her teeth.
“Answer the question,” Steve snapped.
“Yes, Sir Stephen,” she managed. “They’re nipple clamps. Clover clamps, to be precise,” she added in what Zach was already coming to think of as her professor voice. “They were invented in Japan. They have a unique property in that, the more the clamps are pulled on, the tighter they squeeze.”
Steve lifted his eyebrows and flashed Zach a quick look of amusement. Zach didn’t try to hide his answering grin.
Turning back to Shea, Steve asked, “Have you ever experienced nipple clamps, S?”
“No, Sir,” she replied, her voice now a whisper.
“Remember what they feel like next time you think about coming without permission.” Steve gripped her right nipple and tugged at it. He opened one of the clamps and placed it over the base of her nipple.
He let it spring closed and, predictably, Shea gave a yelp of pain, jerking back and nearly losing her balance on the brick in the process.
Ignoring her, Steve reached for her other nipple, expertly sliding the second clamp into place. Again, Shea cried out, though this time she managed to remain still. “Oh, god,” she moaned softly. “It hurts. It really, really hurts, Sir.”
Steve’s smile was cruel. “Of course it does. That’s the point.”
He pulled lightly against the chain. Shea whimpered. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on her upper lip, and her chest was heaving.
Zach stepped closer to the girl and pushed the hair from her face. “Slow your breathing,” he advised her. “The pain will lessen as your nipples numb. Accept this punishment with grace, Shea. You can do it.”
He waited until she gave a small nod, and then continued, “During punishments, we expect you to exercise self-discipline. That means you don’t cry out.” He held up the gag. “Because this is your first punishment, we’ll use a gag to help you stay quiet. When you feel the need to scream, just bite down on it.”
“To scream…” Shea echoed faintly. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “What about my safeword? Should I use a hand gesture if I need to?” She was trembling now, and Zach worried they might be moving too fast.
Apparently similarly concerned, Steve said, “Take her temperature.”
Zach nodded and reached between Shea’s legs. She gasped as his fingers slid over her labia. She was soaking wet, her clit a small, hard pea against his fingertip.
His hand still against her heat, Zach met Steve’s eyes. “On fire,” he announced with a grin.
Steve nodded, satisfied. It was only with reluctance that Zach let his hand fall away.
“In answer to your question,” Steve continued, “if you think you need to use your safeword, yes, use a hand gesture. Just open and close your hands, like this.” He demonstrated with his hands. “We will be paying attention. But be aware—a safeword is a last resort in the scene. You don’t use it because something hurts or because you’re scared. The only time a safeword should be used is when not using it is simply not an option. An example would be if you’re certain that your Doms are not paying attention to your needs, or your body, or the signals you are giving them.”
“If you use your safeword,” Zach added, “the session will end—there’s no going back. Everything will stop. We’re not saying you can never use your safeword. We just want you to understand it’s for true emergencies.”
“That’s right,” Steve said. “Zach and I pride ourselves on the fact we have never had a sub use her safeword during training. Though it may not seem like it, we are constantly assessing what you can handle and when we need to pull back. I know it’s early in the training, but you need to trust us. We know what we’re doing.” He let that sink in a moment, and then said, “So, are you ready to proceed with your punishment?”
Shea let out a deep breath and then replied, “Yes, Sir Stephen.”
Steve moved to stand behind her while Zach twisted the strip of fabric and touched the center of it to Shea’s lips. When she opened her mouth, he pushed it between her teeth and handed the two ends to Steve, who tied them into a knot behind her head.
She looked incredibly hot, her eyes wide with fear, and also with desire. He loved the vivid, erotic tableau of the naked, suspended girl, with her tousled, long hair, the white cloth between her lips and those rosy pink nipples caught in the silver clamps.
Steve retrieved a large wooden punishment paddle from the whip rack and held it up for Shea to see. “Twenty whacks. Remember, not a sound.”
Shea blinked rapidly, as if to blink back tears, but she nodded her agreement.
As Steve stepped behind the girl, Zach reached for her face, cupping her hot cheeks with his hands. “Show us your courage, Shea. You can do this.” He stared into her eyes, resisting a sudden impulse to kiss her.
The paddle made a delicious whacking sound as it met her flesh. “One,” Steve pronounced.
A muffled whimper escaped the gag, more of surprise, Zach thought, than pain.
Steve struck her again. “Two.”
Shea jerked in her restraints, nearly losing her footing as she danced on the concrete brick. She managed to remain silent, though her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” Zach said. “Draw your strength from me. Take what’s coming to you.”
Steve struck her again, the full force of the unforgiving wooden paddle crashing against her ass. Zach, a firm believer in experiencing everything he expected his sub to endure, knew firsthand just how much a paddle could hurt. There was nothing sensual about it—no soothing stroke of soft leather or warming tap of a cane. It was a punishment, pure and simple, and Shea would have the bruises to prove it.
Steve struck her again and again, each blow of the paddle like fingers fondling Zach’s cock and balls. Through it all, he cupped Shea’s face in support, sending her strength and encouragement with his gaze.
“You’re doing good,” he urged. “Almost done.”
When Steve finally intoned, “Twenty,” Shea’s face was streaked with tears and she was trembling like a leaf in the wind, the chain swaying between her breasts.
Steve set down the paddle and reached for the knot behind her head. Letting go of her face, Zach plucked the saliva-soaked fabric from her mouth and tucked it into his back pocket. “You did a good job, Shea,” he said, smiling at her. “The punishment is over. Just one last thing.”
He reached for the clover clamps, gripping them with his index fingers and thumbs. Better just to do it quickly. He pressed the clamps to release the springs.
Predictably, Shea yelped with pain as the blood flow returned to her tortured nipples, her hands bunching into fists about her cuffs.
Impulsively, unable to resist, Zach lowered his head and suckled first one and then the other nipple, stroking them with his tongue, his balls aching. He reached for her heavy, lush breasts with his hands, eager to cup and massage them. Only Steve’s murmured, “Zach,” recalled him to his senses.
Zach pulled back from the girl, who was watching him, her lips parted, her eyes soft.
He turned his focus to Steve, who had brought over the stepladder and was in the process of releasing Shea’s wrists from her cuffs. Zach caught her arms as they fell, guiding them gently to her sides. The two of them helped her from the brick, each holding an upper arm as she stepped down to the floor. They guided her to the recovery couch.
Without being told, she lay on her stomach and buried her face against her folded arms. Her ass and the backs of her thighs were bright red from the paddling. Zach reached for the Arnica gel from the side table and squeezed a generous portion onto his fingers.
Shea jumped at his initial touch but then settled against the cushions with a long, deep sigh.
Steve had crouched beside Zach in front of the girl. They exchanged a long look. There was something in Steve’s expression that Zach couldn’t quite read. At the same time, something was niggling in the back of his mind, or, more accurately, deep in his gut. Danger, it whispered. Watch out, Zach. You have to keep your distance. But Zach shook away the warning. He was having too much fun.
~*~
Shea sat on the couch between the two guys, a soft blanket wrapped around her shoulders, a mug of hot tea cradled in her hands. She hated that her behavior had resulted in a punishment, and the very idea of being punished had been humiliating. The paddling had hurt like hell, and her bottom was still sore. At the same time, she couldn’t deny the deep, dark thrill she had experienced at being chained up, gagged and paddled, just like the sexy girls in the videos online.
The exercise had been amazing, once she’d managed to get past the fear of the unknown, once she’d stopped anticipating. Those texture gloves were so sensual, the leather so buttery soft, those wicked spikes scraping like tiny knives along her flesh.
And the orgasm! Oh, that orgasm was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. The orgasms she gave herself with her fingers and her toys had seemed satisfactory, but she realized now they were little more than scratching an itch. Whatever Master Zach had done with his fingers had been incredible.
But beyond that—being tied down as she’d been, with Sir Stephen looking down at her with those penetrating eyes…oh! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to experience that again? Right now, in fact, would be a good time.
She shot a sidelong glance at each man and was disconcerted to find they were both regarding her, Master Zach’s expression slightly quizzical, Sir Stephen’s mildly amused.
Working to get herself under control, Shea took another sip of the cinnamon tea Master Zach had prepared using an electric kettle they kept on top of the mini refrigerator. If she couldn’t have another orgasm, it would be nice to snuggle down between the two men and take a long, cozy nap. She wondered if napping was ever part of the session. Somehow she doubted it.
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