She was cuffed and belted to the St Andrews cross, her nipples were adorned with clover clamps and I had been gently tickling her in sensitive areas with the tips of a leather stinger flogger for at least a half hour.
She had forgotten about the clamps. They can be a little painful when administered (depending on how sensitive the area is. It differs with each individual) but the cut of blood flow causes them to numb rather quickly and it is not long before they can be forgotten completely as long as alternative sensations are made readily available and they are left untouched.
It was time to remove them.
The main thing that most people do not realise when dealing with nipple clamps (or any other appendage clamping) is that it hurts far more taking them off than it does putting them on or wearing them. The blood rushes back into the area causing sensations to return at lightning speed and nerve endings to rage at having been deprived of body fluid for so long.
A moan of relief as I placed my hands over the clamps turned quickly into a yell of agony as I released them. She was gagged to make sure the noise did not carry too far (I always prepare for the worst). A string of drool ran down her chin as the noise ebbed away (I gently stroked the pain away with the back of my hands) and it was at this point she did something that surprised me: she turned her face directly towards mine and flashed me a defiant look.
Never a good thing to do.
The clover nipple clamps bounced and clinked off the dungeon floor as I forcefully threw them down and slammed both my hands against the wall on either side of her head before leaning in to within an inch of her face, bearing my teeth and letting out a rather forceful and animalistic growl (not something I can actually do at whim, it is like a deep rumble that emanates from the chest and throat and tends to just happen on rare occasions when I feel overly aggressive, if I am over-the-top annoyed or if I have had an incredibly hefty and satisfying lunch. Though it does tend to sound very different if my mood is placid).
She closed her eyes tightly and turned her head down and to one side in submission. She knew what she had done.
I stayed there a few brief moments, watching her expressions carefully, before finally removing her gag and releasing her from the cross. I did not need to say anything. She dropped to the floor and scrambled on her hands and knees with her head lowered to face where I was standing and placed a very attentive kiss on each of my steel heeled boots.
“Sorry, Mistress.” came a meek and quivering voice.
Velvet Thoughts by Aemilia Hawk 