Page 264 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“Three,” we say in unison as we both lean down, forcing the chains to stretch tighter between us.

The one connecting my left nipple to her right one doesn’t hurt nearly as bad, but the one from my right to her left stretches so far that it pulls, adding an unwelcome stretch to the pain. As predicted, Melody cries out while I look inside myself for that spot where pain cannot find me.

It’s almost impossible to find, because every time I close my eyes, there she is twitching again, presumably trying to find comfort in this miserable experience. “I don’t hear you breathing,” I wheeze out, determined to coach her through this if it’s the last thing I do.

I turn my head, laying my cheek on the leather. “Look at me.” It takes her several moments, but she turns, her eyes red rimmed as she whimpers. “Good. Now take a breath in.” She draws in a ragged gasp. “Now out.” We both breathe out together.

Thankfully, the masters allow us this moment. No doubt they’re just happy we’re not ripping each other’s throats out. But all too soon, I hear that whistle through the air. The indicator of the belt a split second before it connects with my ass.

Next to me, Melody howls and jerks up, tugging the nipple clamps so hard I let out a blood curdling scream. “I’m sorry,” she cries out before I even have a chance to get mad. “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you. I swear.”

Reaching out, I grab her hand, tugging it off the leather so that it hangs between us. “Shut up! I need you to just shut up and breathe. Don’t worry about hurting me. I can take it. But I can’t concentrate with you doing all this fucking hollering. If it hurts, squeeze my hand, but for the love of God, don’t jerk like that again. You almost tore them off of me.”

“I’m sor—”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” I snap, my sanity hanging on by a thread. “Just do better.” Turning my head to the other side, I allow the tears I’ve been holding at bay to fall.

I have to be strong for her. She can’t see me break down like this. My body aches, and not just my poor abused nipples or ass. Every inch of me is coiled, tense, and sore. Between my legs, I can feel my arousal smearing across the leather with every small movement, and from his vantage point, Master Grigori must see it as well.

His little pain slut. I repeat that thought through my mind as the belt connects again, this time just a little lower so it lays across underneath the first strip. This time, Melody does much better, jerking on my arm instead of my chest.

Another smack, and another scream from Melody, but through it, I squeeze her hand, reminding her that she’s not the only one enduring this. She’s not alone. Just like I’m not alone.

Again and again, they strike, until I’m unable to hold back any longer. There’s pain, and then there’s this agony. Each blow layers on top of another, an endless sting with no end in sight. But even then, even as agony courses through my veins, there’s the heat of arousal as it pools deep in my body.

I want Master Grigori with every fiber of my being. I need him to pound into me, to take away this pain with the sweet release I can only achieve at his hand. My clit piercing grinds into the spanking bench, giving me sparks of pleasure, but nothing substantial, nothing that will get me there.

Several moments go by, and there’s nothing. No pain, no belt, nothing. But soon, the spanking benches move, sliding about until Melody and I are face to face. Her cheeks are red and blotchy as tears still stream from her eyes.

I know I probably look the same. Laughter bubbles up from my throat as we stare at each other, our twin faces of misery no doubt looking beyond pitiful. Soon, she joins in, the hysteria finally taking over until we’re both nearly in a frenzy with it.

“This isn’t the reaction I was expecting,” Master Jeremy murmurs, running his hand down Melody’s back.

“Are you objecting?” Master Grigori counters, trailing his fingers much lower. “My my. It seems as if my little dove is dreadfully wet. What about yours?”

“Sopping. It seems as if our submissives like this rough treatment. What do you think?”

“I think we need to give them a little reward.” Master Grigori threads his fingers through my hair, gripping it at the roots before yanking me upward.

Unable to have time to brace or warn Melody, the chains stretch taut between us, pulling on my sore, tender nipples. I can only imagine what it feels like on her end. Her shriek tells me all I need to know. Struggling, I pull against Master Grigori’s tug, giving her as much slack as I can.

It’s agonizing feeling shards of pain slice through me from both my scalp and my nipples. Tears gather at my eyes again, but I blink them back, focusing on the air coming in and out of my lungs.

From the other side, Master Jeremy pulls on Melody’s hips, yanking her backward hard and fast so that the nipple clamps finally give up and tug free, clattering onto the floor between us. We both let out a pained howl that vibrates the air between us, but thankfully, we are no longer connected.

After several moments, blood rushes back to my nipples, bringing another layer of pain. Moaning, I lean back into Master Grigori’s arms, soaking in his strength as he wraps them around me.

“You did well, my little printsessa. You could have been cruel, but you chose kindness.” Reaching forward, he drags his fingertips around my areolas, barely skimming the throbbing, aching points. “Shall I reward you?”

He stops and pinches my nipples hard, drawing out a pained gasp. From in front of me, Melody is suffering the same, but I can’t think about her. My thoughts scatter with every pinch and tug as he coaxes blood back to the area.

When I’m good and pliant, boneless from his treatment, he grabs my hips and drags me down the bench until my ass nearly hangs off. His fingers slip lower, skimming my lower lips, circling my clit as he murmurs Russian endearments into my ears.

It’s like heaven. Groaning, I rock back into his touch, needing more, needing him to thrust his fingers deep inside, but he doesn’t comply. Instead, he fingers the piercing, wiggling it inside my clit hood as he grazes my earlobe with his teeth.

This isn’t enough. I need more. “Please, Master,” I groan, sliding my hips back and forth, humping his hand in desperation.

“Yes, printsessa. Tell me what you want.”

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