The Lover's Children novel Chapter 32

CHARLOTTE

Seating himself by me, my Master displays his toys. “What do you think?” Small and wickedly toothed, it’s quite pretty: again made of the silver steel and set with a green gem, it dangles delicate strands of chain. “I find I approve of the jewellery Richard chose for you. I bought these to match, to give you on a suitable occasion.” He pauses a moment, pointedly testing the clamp on the tip of his little finger. Adjusting a tiny screw, he tests again, then repeats the procedure on a second clamp, then a third…

A third?

He smiles slightly. “Come, Charlotte. You know where these are going.”

My breasts swing, heavy and full, the nipples already stiffly peaked with arousal, plumped and tender. My Master pinches one between thumb and forefinger, rolling it, nipping and squeezing. Slivers of pain spike through to my pussy, which pulses a hot trickle of liquid. As he slips the clamp into position, the slivers turn to spears, lancing to my core and a continuous flow leaks down my thighs. He squeezes. The teeth bite, and I gurgle through my gaping throat.

“Does that work for you, Richard?”

“It does indeed. But I’d like to hear more. Are you dressing the other breast now?”

“Of course.”

My Master plucks at my other nipple, fitting the second clamp, this time snapping it into place.

My Master stands beside Richard to admire the result. “Charlotte, kneel upright. We want to see you.”

Struggling to rise, in the mirrors, I see myself; Beth still gripping my hair in a rough ponytail, her eyes almost black with arousal; my skin, gilded by the flames and the candles; the gleam of fox at my loins. My breasts quiver with the palpitation of my chest, the painted areolae bronzed by the light. Centred by emerald, the chains dangle, glinting silver-gold.

Behind my reflection, Michael watches too, one hand still moving rhythmically behind Beth, the other cupping a breast, playing with the nipple.

My Master flicks at a clamp. I yelp. “What d’you think, Richard? Michael?”

Michael’s reflection grins. “I think we all know where that third clamp is going.”

“Quite right.” My Master sits again. “Knees further apart, Charlotte.” He slides a hand between my thighs, fingering my slick and swollen vulva. My clit aches. Inside, the vibe dances a Devil’s jig. “Flooding, aren’t we. How much are you enjoying this, Charlotte? Let’s find out.”

He moves slowly, deliberately, to attach the third clamp. Making me wait. Fucking with my head. But my head doesn’t have the vote.

At the vee of my thighs, he holds, poised as he flicks the jaws of the clamp open and closed, a sharp, metallic chatter that shivers down my spine and sets my belly muscles clutching.

The fingers of one hand scissor between my pussy lips, opening me, exposing the small shaft of my clit. At the last moment, he snaps the teeth closed.

Pain rips through me, harsh as truth, sweet as sin. Screaming, I spurt. But my Master isn’t done. With a twist and a sucking sound, he removes the plug…

*****

MICHAEL

... James kneels back, pushes Charlotte back down, and in a smooth sequence of movements, unzippers himself with one hand, swiping the other over Charlotte's flooding vulva and thighs, slick and shiny with her own honey. The vibe inside her pussy hums a merry tune as, lubing himself up, James twists out the emerald-headed plug, tossing it to one side.

He leans over her, almost on all fours himself. Fingers curled around his erection, he takes his time, boring into her. Rocking back and forth, a little deeper with every stroke, he fills her from the rear.

Charlotte groans...

Head low, his face burning, James groans too.

I don’t give him more than two minutes…

Beth’s spine pressed to my chest, her arousal builds, a quiver that grew to a shudder as she watched Richard fit Charlotte with the gag. I’m not sure it’s my taste, but Beth’s getting off on it big-time. Regardless of Richard’s instruction not to come, her climax is rising. Watching James ass-fucking Charlotte, in the mirrors, her expression is glazed.

She’s loving that…

… And with each of Charlotte’s open-mouthed cries, Beth’s pussy grabs at my fingers, spilling heated juices over my hand.

James, buried inside Charlotte, breathing heavily, slips a hand forward and squeezes a nipple clamp. Her wails increase, perhaps in protest, probably with arousal. James grins and gives the other nipple a squeeze. Charlotte screams and bucks, and he jolts with her…

Clenching…

… then, eyes raising ceiling-ward, lips wording silently...

Fuck...

… he drops forward over Charlotte, grinding, hips spasming.

Beth convulses against me. Richard is watching. Beth’s on a one-way trip and he knows it. His mouth quirks as he speaks. “Elizabeth, you may not climax.”

Too late...