Bondage Buddies (Masters of Marquis #1) - Golden Angel Page 0,4

his grip, he tugged on them, making her arch her back and lean forward, squirming with arousal.

On the stage, Michael had already stripped Ellie out of the robe she was wearing, revealing the weights attached to her nipple rings, pulling them down, and a flash of jewelry between her thighs, likely something to torture her sweet pussy.

Mitch rolled Domi’s nipples painfully, eliciting a high-pitched whine from the back of her throat. Leaning closer to her, he kissed the muscle where her throat met her shoulder and then nipped at it, dragging his teeth over her sensitive skin. His cock was rock hard and pressing against his leathers, begging to be let out.

“I think your nipples could use some jewelry, don’t you?” he whispered, twisting and tugging on the small buds. “I wouldn’t want you to get jealous of Ellie.”

“Yes, please, Sir,” Domi said, her voice soft and needy. Her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward as though her body was repeating the plea.

He nearly groaned at her eagerness. Only a sweet little masochist would take the pinches and twists to her nipples he was doling out and ask for more.

“Keep watching Master Michael and Ellie,” he murmured into her ear. “Don’t take your eyes off of them.” Releasing the little buds, he grinned when she let out a long breath, her body relaxing from the tension. That bit of relief wasn’t going to last very long, and he knew neither of them wanted it to.

On stage, Michael had secured Ellie’s wrists to a rope hanging down in the center of the stage and her ankles to a spreader bar that forced her legs wide apart. He was wrapping rope around Ellie’s body, focusing on figure eights around her large breasts that made them jut out even more, her pale skin turning pink as they were bound. She was panting, her eyes almost glazed over. With her legs spread, Mitch could see the clamp on her clit.

Reaching into his pocket, Mitch pulled out the clover clamps he’d brought. Their initial pinch wasn’t bad, but tugging on them made them tighten, increasing their bite. Perfect for Domi.

Domi

Normally, watching Master Michael and Ellie wouldn’t be a hardship, especially because being a voyeur to this intense scene was a pleasure unto itself, but not being able to look over and see what Master Mitch had for her was its own form of torture—which she was sure the jerk knew. Her nipples were already throbbing from his abuse, and her pussy was pulsing in time, clenching with need.

She was so aroused, it took willpower not to reach between her legs and touch herself for relief, but she knew better than to do that next to a Dom. That was a surefire way to an evening without a single orgasm. The best way to get what she wanted was to be a good girl and do what she’d been told.

So, she watched as Master Michael tied off the end of the rope, leaving Ellie in a rope shirt that covered nothing and added to the torture of her breasts. Domi couldn’t help but wonder if such bondage would be as effective on her since her own boobs were so much smaller than Ellie’s. She would love to try.

Mitch’s hand moved back around her back and cupped the breast farther away from him. She’d expected a pinch, but instead, his fingers gently stroked her abused nipple, teasing and making it feel even more sensitive.

It wasn’t until Master Michael picked up the flogger hanging from his belt loop and sent it slashing through the air, the pinch came. Domi cried out just after Ellie, her nipple throbbing from the sharp, stinging pain that jabbed through it. A moment later, Master Michael brought the flogger down on Ellie’s other breast, and Master Mitch quickly clamped Domi’s other nipple.

Gripping the table in front of her, her eyes unfocused as the flogger rose and fell, panting for breath as her body adjusted to the exquisite agony. It hurt so much and felt so good as her pulse pounded in time with Ellie’s cries.

The room echoed with whimpers, moans, and groans from other booths, adding to the show on stage.

“Up, sweetheart,” Mitch ordered. She cried out when he used the clamps to move her, dragging her forward by her nipples, so she was bent over the table.

Tears gathered in her eyes from the sharp pain, then the dull throbbing that replaced it when he let the clamps go. On stage, Master Michael