"How, Sir?" I ask.
His thumb still rests on my chin, caressing it, "Tell me, YELLOW when it begins to be too much. Or red. That seems to be the universal sign for stopping, right?"
"Yes, Sir," I say.
"We can continue," he says as he releases my chin. He makes his way around my body, brushing the flogger's tassels against my skin and giving me stinging love bites from it.
Heat is pooling between my legs. I'm on a roller coaster, finally ready to go down the big dip. Some people are afraid of that dip, but not me. I crave it. He flogs me with a whack between my thighs. It barely brushes my clit, mostly hitting around my slit and a small part of my ass. It feels deliciously wonderful with just the right amount of pain. He ups the ante, flicking me on my back, my ass, my inner thighs. He continues, hitting my pussy, my breasts. My pale skin is flushed red. The trays in my hands are becoming too much. And the skin where the clothespins are connected is tingling and burning. My breath rushes in and out uncontrollably, and sweat coats every inch of my skin.
Mr. North pauses his tickling of me with his flogger and makes his way back to the table. He retrieves the champagne bottle and pours more into each glass on my trays. I give a very audible whimper. It feels like they've gained five pounds each. I can barely hold them anymore. I don't want to give in to him. I don't want to give in to any man. However, at the same time, I feel it might be okay to give in to Mr. North because he's not in this for anything besides business. And even if that weren’t the case, he has rules in place, and it feels safer with structure. And I can do that.
He circles to my backside again. His fingers find the very wet entrance of my pussy, and move towards my asshole. I'm not a shy girl, but I don't get a lot of butt play. I have never had ass play while holding expensive champagne glasses above my head.
He halts, his breath in my ear. "You're impressive, I must say. You're stinging all over, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, Sir."
"I bet you're almost at your tipping point?" He whispers, tickling my ear.
"Yes. Please, Sir," I hiss.
"See how this feels…" he gently and slowly unclips the clothespins one at a time along my lips.
Chapter 15
As soon as the first clothespin is released, a stinging sensation slices through me. It's not necessarily all bad. But, it is very intense, too intense. Mr. North removes the rest of the pins holding my vagina hostage, and my pussy is humming with freedom and quivering. My pussy is a full-blown motor revved to the highest power. I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth.
Mr. North is in my face, “You think you can handle the pain?”
I can't tell if he's joking or if he is serious. I don't know how serious he is because he always looks stern.
I nod my head, “Yes, sir.”
His hand hovers over my breasts. “The longer you leave these on, the more intense they feel once you remove them.” Finally, he lets one of the pins loose from my chest, and I scream in pain. I almost drop the trays.
“Do we want to try that again?” He asks me.
It hurts too much, but I can't let him win yet. “Ahh. Yes, sir,” I hiss theatrically, not caring anymore.
“Maybe you can ask me nicely?” he smiles devilishly, holding back what is undoubtedly a maniacal laugh.
Oh my. My head is swimming. My feet slide from all the sweat. Somehow it is more embarrassing that my feet are sweating than my pussy is dripping come down my thighs. “Please, Sir. Please remove the pins.”
He taps one with his finger, and it springs off, clattering to the floor. The pain lances through me, but the scream barely makes it through my teeth. I’m not as loud as the first time because I got to anticipate what was coming. All my skin is a separate creature, tingling and crawling as the blood rushes back.
“Please, Mr. North.” My eyes water and my fingers are nearing numb. I'm suddenly exhausted with shaking legs. There's less than a foot of distance between us.
I can smell the champagne on his breath. “Look at me, Kitten.”
I obey.I could be good at this.
“Would you like me to finish?” he asks.
Tears trickle down my cheeks, spilling to the floor. “Yes, Mr. North. I’m yellow.”
He is the most gentle I’ve seen him be all night. He removes them ever so slowly. I almost wish he would get it over with, but I fear that would hurt more. He's pretty gentle, but these devious, simple clothespins are my worst enemy. Who would have thought that something so small could cause so much pain?
I’m almost euphoric as he smacks the last three pins off at once. I whimper out a small scream, partly due to the knowledge that the clothespins are finally off me. I’m free of them.