BDSM Bundle

Jennifer Lynne

Excerpt

She dropped to the floor and slid beneath the bench - much as a mechanic working on the under chassis of a car – and I saw how deliciously firm her tits were as they stood upright and proud even as she lay down on her back. She shuffled into place and produced as if from nowhere a pair of large, silver nipple clamps. I moaned a little – my nipples were still tingling from the attention of the club crowd – as she grasped my left nipple and tugged on it. Once stretched, she attached the clamp and I flinched. She repeated the process with my right nipple and there I lay with the clamps – and my nipples – dangling through the oblong hole in the padded bench.

And just as I was thinking that this really didn’t feel all that bad – in fact, the clamps were creating a pleasurable sensation within my nipples – Mistress Xtina turned the little screw on each clamp to tighten them.

I ground my teeth together as the pressure between the rubberized clamps intensified and shot sharp jabs of both pain and pleasure through my chest that ran all the way down to my balls. Tighter still, and my eyes began to water, my face reddened and screwed up against the deep sensations with which my shemale mistress was tormented me. I stared down at her through tear-blurred eyes and saw that her pierced nipples were harder than ever, and her vulva glistened ever wetter with her juices.

She was genuinely getting off on my torment.

Then she was gone, squirming that magnificent body of hers downwards beneath the bench, and then I felt Mistress Xtina’s hands around my cock and balls. Again I recognized the rough bite of leather straps, only this time they encircled the base of my throbbing dick and around my freely hanging testicles. The strap tightened and I gasped at the new pang of pain as she bound my genitals tightly by their roots. I couldn’t help but flinch at the jingle-jangle sound that sounded painfully familiar and I realized that I was about to endure the same genital torture as the nude girl at the door.

How right I was.

Distracted by the excruciating pressure on my nipples, I barely noticed the pulling sensation on my genitals as Mistress Xtina affixed heavy brass weights to the strap around them. But when the third and forth weights were added and they clanged together in the space beneath the bench, I certainly took notice.

It felt as if someone were attempting to slowly – but steadily – pull my dick and balls off of my body. The slightest movement of the weights brought fresh agony that wormed its way up into my belly and made my prostate throb in a not entirely unpleasurable way. My dick felt stretched beyond all comprehension, my balls along with it, and in my mind’s eye I imagined them stretched all the way down to the cold, stone floor.

I groaned out loud, the dull ache in my genitals gnawing away at me, yet not quite dulling the sharp pain that emanated from my well-clamped nipples.

“Are you complaining, slave?” Mistress Xtina said as she elegantly picked herself up from the floor beneath me. “Is the pain too much for you?” she whispered in my ear, her breath warm and soft against my skin, her tone concerned.

“Yes, Mistress Xtina,” I told her, embarrassed that we’d only really gotten started and I was whining like a spoiled baby.

“I hate to hear my slaves in pain,” Mistress Xtina said softly, her long, lithe fingers stroking along my spine, her sharp fingernails gently scraping my skin and sending shivers of delight through my body – which in turn enhanced the pain in my poor nipples and the tugging feel of the weights around my dick and balls. “Let me do something about that,” she said.

“Thank you, Mistress Xtina,” I said with a groan, my senses spinning.

My head was yanked back, Mistress Xtina’s hand pulling roughly at my hair. I yelped as the bones in my neck crackled and the movement of my body set the weights swinging like wind chimes in a storm. And the second my mouth opened, the dominatrix thrust a large, multicolored ball gag into it and snaked the thing’s strap around the back of my head. She pushed my face back into the bench’s headrest and fastened the strap, catching a clump of hair as she tightened the sliver buckle.

I moaned at this new assault on my vulnerable body, but my voice was muffled by the hard, fat ball that had invaded my mouth. I could already feel the trickle of my saliva running by the smooth rubber and drooling down to the floor.

“Now, there’ll be no more whining from the slave,” Mistress Xtina sounded quite satisfied at having shut me up. “Now you have to take the consequences for this.” She lifted my hand off of the bench and guided it towards her pussy. My heart sank as I felt that whilst it remained somewhat wet – and slippery - her entrance had dried somewhat. “The slave had but one task…” the dominatrix grumbled. “And yet it saw fit to whine and complain instead.” And through the face hole, I saw her feet moving away from me, over towards the wall that if memory served me right, was home to her mind-boggling collection of whips, paddles and floggers.

And when Mistress Xtina returned to my side, it was with the ruthless sting of the cat o’nine tails. I squirmed at the whip’s caress, the skin of my back alight with tingling twinges of pain from the multitude of leather strips that the dominatrix rained upon me. My back, my ass, my thighs, the soles of my feet – all of my nerve endings lit up and joined in with the pain that radiated out from my tight clamped nipples and excruciatingly stretched cock and balls.