Literotic asexstories – Introduction Ch. 06 by Ariel797,Ariel797
Just before I left to go back to school in Atlanta, Jason told me one evening to get dressed and go with him. It was just getting dark outdoors, and the drive was pleasant. I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew when we arrived it was Bloomfeld’s place. I didn’t like him much. He was a true sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain and terror equally. His nurse Lacey was also his slave. She greeted us at the door, wearing a tiny, skintight fake nurse’s outfit, the dress so small and short that with the slightest movement, it lifted to show that she was shaved and wearing her labia jewelry: little chains that linked the labia together. Only Bloomfeld could unlock it. She smiled at us and motioned us indoors.
“Jason, I really don’t like him,” I whispered. Wrong thing to say.
Jason smiled, steering me down the hall now, his hand at the small of my back, Lacey waltzing before us. We went into Bloomfeld’s little play room. Cold steel, glaring lights overhead, sharp-looking metal instruments lying on a sterile platter near the table. I halted. Jason pushed me inside and shut the door. Lacey locked the door.
Dr. Bloomfeld came into the room. He was wearing a surgeon’s outfit, but happily pulled it up to show that he was wearing a cockring. He waved his erection at me.
Another man entered the room – George! Oh no. I looked at Jason. He stared ahead, smiling at the others, then turned me to face him.
“Strip now.”
I did, slowly, pulling my dress over my head, the way Jason had taught me. He took his satchel off his shoulder and put it on a nearby chair, opened it, motioned me over.
“Put these on.”
My black leather collar, the D ring clinking against something in the satchel.
“Jason,” I whispered. Bloomfeld and George were in a corner of the room, talking about something. Lacey was puttering around near them, lining up items. I tried not to look.
“Jason,” I started again, while I slipped on my wrist and ankle cuffs with their heavy D rings, “I really don’t want to do this. Why am I here?”
He told me to clasp my hands behind my head. I did. He brushed my nipples with his fingers, then removed the nipple rings. He fastened a slender gold chain around my waist.
“Remember I said you would be punished, and George could watch.”
“Yes.”
“And Maria did say she wanted you to get your clit pierced. Or, I think she meant your hood. Either way…” he shrugged.
“But Jason -!” I was worried. “Bloomfeld? I mean…”
“He is a real doctor.”
“Yes, but – but he likes to give pain.”
Jason looked at me coldly. “And?”
I swallowed hard. “Is he going to pierce the hood?”
Jason didn’t answer that. “Ready for her to get on the table?” he asked Bloomfeld, who turned around and actually rubbed his hands together. He must have been practicing that in front of a mirror.
The doctor nodded. Jason and Lacey helped me onto the table. It had edges on the sides, and slits in parts of the table and on the sides. The metal was cold. For some reason, I felt more exposed lying on it than I ever had before. Jason pulled my hands back, over my head, and I heard the D rings clink and click as he snapped them to something at the top corners of the table.
Lacey moved to the foot of the table and had to tug me downwards a little, then she snapped those D rings into place so my legs were apart. Over my head, my fingers could just touch the edges of the metal table.
I felt cold. Lacey pulled two broad canvas straps up on either side of me, through slits in the table, then buckled them tightly around my waist, holding me snug. It was wide enough to have two rows of holes and a two-pronged buckle. It bit into my belly a little.
Bloomfeld chuckled.
“She won’t be able to move at all,” he told Jason.
“Jason, please…”
“Master.”
“Master. Master please, not this.”
Jason ignored me.
Lacey added straps around my upper thighs, pulling them apart and snuggly binding them to the cold metal. Another strap went across the top of my chest, over my breasts. I felt someone’s hand on the inside of my thigh, just above slightly pouched skin from the belt. Bloomfeld’s face loomed over me.
“She’s beautiful,” he told Jason. He held up a wheeled metal device, almost like a pizza cutter, with very sharp points on the outer edge. His finger idly flicked the wheel, and it turned in the bright light. Lacey stood beside Bloomfeld.
George was nearby, watching quietly. I couldn’t see him, but I heard him muttering now and then. Watching.
Jason was next to me.
“Master, please, please don’t,” I begged. Bloomfeld ran the sharp round cutter slowly up and down my belly, finally dipping it down to run it over my clit lightly. I shivered. He laughed. He showed me several instruments: metal and cold, sterile, some had sharp ends; one looked like an oversized corkscrew with a rounded end; another group was a set of scalpels.
“But you like medicine,” Bloomfeld said one time. I shivered again. He laughed and laid a scalpel flat against a nipple so I could see it. “You’re studying it. You should enjoy this.” I shook my head, and he laughed again.
Jason put his hand on my arm then. “I’m leaving you now.” His voice was cold.
“Master no! No! Don’t leave me! Please!” I tugged hard on the cuffs. The belts wouldn’t let me move. The cuffs were securely linked. “Master please, no, don’t leave me! Please!” I heard the door open and close, Jason leaving me. I shivered and could not seem to stop. Bloomfeld came back over to me and leaned over me, smoothing my hair.
“I’d use a gag,” he began, “but this room is sound-proofed. It won’t matter if you scream.” He dragged the pinwheel slowly up my body, circling a nipple with it while I watched. “I’d love it if you screamed.” He pushed down a little with the wheel, leaving a small imprint on my flesh. “In fact – ” and I felt his hand on my pussy suddenly, squeezing, the heel of his hand grinding against my clit – “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make you scream. Would I?” He looked at Lacey, who smiled and shook her head. I was shivering a lot now.
“Your Master tells me,” Bloomfeld said, walking out of my sight, “that you’re a slut. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
His fingers gripped my clit then, pinching it. “Yes, SIR.”
“Yes sir. Yes.”
Bloomfeld nodded at Lacey. “No manners.” He held out a hand. She placed something in it. He held it up to me. I understood. He always wanted me to see what was about to happen. So I would think about it, anticipate it, know it was coming.
Fear it.
Clover clamps. Almost the look of a slanted X in the middle. The end would spring apart when pressure was placed on the center of the clamp. When it closed – intense pressure, wherever it was placed.
Bloomfeld fingered my clit.
“Very tender, isn’t it?” he muttered.
“Yes sir.”
“But –” and he pinched it with his fingers then – “it feels very good, doesn’t it?” His thumb brushed the end of the clit, and I jumped.
“Yes.”
“What did you just say?” He squeezed the clit.
“Yes sir. Sir.”
“Good. But, I should teach you. So you don’t make another mistake like that.”
“Yes sir.”
The clover clamp was fitted onto the base of my clit and sprang shut with a small snap. I gave a small squeak.
“Good. That hurt, didn’t it? tell me it hurt.”
“Yes sir, it hurt sir.”
“But not a lot, did it?”
“No sir, not a lot sir.” I was making sure I added “sir” to everything.
George had moved a little closer, watching.
Bloomfeld busied around, humming happily to himself. “Turn on something hot, Lacey.”
The nurse turned on music with a heavy beat, erotic pulsing music that filled the room.
“You can scream all you like.”
“Yes sir.” I shivered again.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir some.”
“I’ll have to make you more afraid.”
I moaned a little at that. Without realizing it, I flexed my hands, and my fingers touched the metal rim of the table’s edge. He laughed.
“Oh, I like her, Lacey! She wants to get away!” He held up more clamps. Two small flat sides held together with little screws. He patiently placed on over a nipple. Lacey used a metal gripper that looked like scissors with the grippers on what would have been the cutting end. She plucked the nipple and pulled up. Bloomfeld hummed along with the music. No lyrics, just great music, loud. He tightened the screws until my nipple was almost flat. The other nipple was fitted the same way.
“Does that hurt?”
“Yes sir.”
“A lot?”
“No sir, but some sir.”
“Good. Well, it’s a start.” George leaned in for a close look, interested.
The clover clamp was starting to hurt. Bloomfeld added two more, one on each pussy lip. “That has to hurt some, doesn’t it?”
“Yes sir,” I moaned, “Yes.”
“Good. I’m getting excited now.”
He placed clothespins on my belly, small pieces of skin pulled up. Smaller pieces of skin can hurt. More clothespins on the insides of my upper arms. A few more added around my breasts, tender skin wedged between the teeth of the clothespins. I twisted a little.
“Good, good. Let’s see if you’re wet.” I felt his finger push inside me. “Nope, not wet enough.” He whistled a little, obviously enjoying himself. At one point he had Lacey to lift his surgeon’s smock and adjust the cock ring, tightening it. “Ah good, yes.” I remembered then that Bloomfeld liked a little pain himself.
“We’re almost ready,” he said finally. He looked at me and smiled. “For the first round.”
He whistled a little, checking things, then called Lacey over to remove his surgeon’s smock. She fitted latex gloves on his hands, smoothing them up almost to his elbow. He was wearing his boots and pants, open at the crotch, and that cock ring. His cock was a purple red, big and thick, throbbing. He smiled at me. “Like it?”
“Yes sir.”
“I knew you would. Your uncle tells me,” smoothing a gloved hand down my body, flicking a clothespin here and there so that it moved bunched flesh with it, “you have a problem with being a slut. Is that so?”
“Yes sir.”
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