Page 263 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“You will take this punishment, my dear little mouse,” he murmurs, forcing his fingers into my mouth for me to suck on. “Then all will be well.”

I sigh around his thick digits, taking my mind off of Chelsea and putting it back where it belongs—on my master. Right now, she should have no bearing, and so, I concentrate on the feel of his fingers as they slide back and forth against my tongue. I memorize the way they stretch out my lips, bringing that hint of burn at the edges.

Now I don’t care what Master Grigori is doing to Chelsea. He could be having sex with her for all I know, but that’s not what’s important. She isn’t important. This is, this moment between Master Jeremy and I.

A sharp pain at my nipple shatters the illusion of safety between him and I, and I squeal, the sound muffled as he shoves his fingers in even deeper. Next to me, Chelsea also gives a pained grunt. Perhaps that’s the punishment? We both receive the same form of torture?

Before I can fully finish that thought, another zing of pain zips through me from the other nipple. I yank back, unwilling to take the pain, and that’s when I feel an odd tug of resistance right about the same time Chelsea cries out in pain.

Master Jeremy and Master Grigori both chuckle and pull back, leaving us to figure out what’s going on. We glance at each other, and my stomach drops in horror as my eyes trail along the chain connecting my nipple clamps to hers. As I get to the end, I look back up, catching her shuttered expression.

“This is unbelievable,” she hisses, straightening her shoulders.

The small movement tugs on the chains, sending another shaft of pain through my nipples. Crying out, I lower myself, taking off some of the pressure, but as I do, it makes my back burn with the odd positioning.

“Stop moving,” I shriek, desperate to sit back up.

“You stop moving,” she counters, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“I can’t just stay hunched over like this. It’s nearly impossible.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. If you move, it’s going to tighten the clamps on me.”

“They are already tightened on me,” I scream out, no longer caring if I look like an idiot in front of everyone.

“Calm the fuck down. We can do this. Just—”

The burn in my back is far too much. Unable to stay like that any further, I sit back up, drawing a shriek from Chelsea.

“Stop fucking moving!”

My nipples ache and throb, but it’s nothing compared to the arousal clenching my insides. I know I’m shamefully wet, and soon, Master Jeremy will know. If I keep sliding about on this bench, proof of my arousal will shine on the leather.

We stare each other down, both of us finally sitting in a somewhat comfortable position. “What do we do now,” I whimper, my fingers shaking as I force them to stay at my side and not take the clamps off.

“We try not to hurt each other while our masters figure out what they’re going to do next.”

“Oh, my pretty little dove,” Master Grigori purrs. “We don’t have to plan. We already know exactly what we’re going to do.”

Dread fills my gut as they each reach down to loosen their belts. We are so fucked.

Chapter Four

Chelsea

My nipples hurt. They’re so fucking sore, and yet, knowing Master Grigori, this is just the tip of the iceberg. If only I can convince Melody to settle down. If she could just breathe through it instead of flailing about like some ragdoll, it would be easier for both of us.

Gritting my teeth, I watch as the belts clear the loops. There’s no way she’s going to be able to sit still for this. I have to hand it to Dr. Andrew, this is beyond devious. If his goal was to make it so that Melody and I never wanted to be in each other’s presence ever again, he did a good job.

The last thing I now want is to be back at her mercy. Just because she can’t handle pain like I do, it doesn’t make her a bad submissive. But it does make me never want to end up at the receiving end of a punishment like this ever again.

Now, if it was Jessica, we could have handled it like pros and probably gone back to fighting just as soon as it was over. But with Melody, it’s different. She’s soft, unused to such treatment. In a way, it makes me feel sorry for her, to want to take the brunt of this so she won’t have as much pain.

A chuckle escapes my pursed lips at the thought. Since when did I give a damn about Melody? But just one look at her tear-stained face, the squirm of agony as she does her absolute best to hold her body still, it stirs that protective instinct in me. The masters get closer, and I know the pain of his lash will be nearly unbearable.

Reaching out, I snatch Melody’s hand, drawing her gaze to mine. “On the count of three, lean down. Press your chest to the bench and grip the leather. Focus on your breathing. In and out. Steady rhythm. We will get through this, but you have to focus. One.”

“Two,” she breathes out, her voice warbled and shaky.

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