Monday's are for nipple clamps ;)
The gold nipple clamps matched her collar and the rose detailing on their sides was exquisite. There was even room for a fine chain that could attach them to the central loop on the chain around her neck, but Ned had left it off when he had dressed her. “Any more ornamentation,” he’d said, “would be too much.”
Pru’s breasts spilled bare and brazen from over the top of the corset that cinched her and reminded her with every laboured breath how naughty she was. Her nipples ached underneath the bite of tiny teeth. If Harry were to twist the clamps, the sensations would be sharp and fierce before they would melt into that perfect, constant pleasure-pain. Would he think to do that? she wondered as Harry gave her a hot stare that rattled all the way through her body.
Carefully, almost reverently, he brushed his hand across the swell of her breasts. Her areoles ached for his attention, but he shied away from the swollen centres, concentrating instead on shaping her curves with his fingers.
“Harry,” Ned drawled. “She is not a nice girl. You’re meant to hurt her.”
There was warning in the way he said it, a flavour so familiar it had her muscles tensing in anticipation. Harry heard it too, his answer coming in the way he finally squeezed her breasts, forcing her nipples into even tighter peaks beneath the clamps.
“What does this feel like?” Harry rasped.
“Hurts.” The lingering slide of sound she made gave the lie to it, however. Mere words couldn’t convey how, for her, pain was never a simple sensation.
Harry groaned, his fingers splaying possessively over her skin.
Instinct had her fumbling for the belt of his robe but that same instinct stilled her hands again. “May I?”
She kept her eyes trained on Harry’s cock, sleek and hard and hot already. She trembled from the effort of not touching him. Ned’s reply was long enough in coming that she felt hysterical panic well within her. Please—please—
“Touch him,” Ned ordered.