Reya steps to Sebastian’s side–making sure to give the audience a full view of his body–and gently pulls and kneads at one of his nipples for a moment. Forced to hold perfectly still, Seb moans quietly and looks down at his beleaguered body. Still holding the nipple with one hand, Reya opens the clamp and closes it gently around her sub’s nipple, taking care to include ample flesh beyond just the nipple itself.
“Ahh!” Seb breathes as the pressure of the rubber-tipped clamp ramps up on his sensitive bit. A clear tinkling sound rings out again as Reya lets go.
“You have bells on his nipple clamps?!” Yuna exclaims with delight. “That is the best idea ever!” Reya gives her a wry, knowing smile then smacks her slave hard on the ass.
Crack!
“Ungh!” Seb’s cries are loud and heartfelt, reflecting more than just the physical pleasure or pain of the immediate bodily gesture. For him, the exposition and humiliation are equally powerful. Walking around to his other side, Reya repeats the procedure, clamping his free nipple in the same way and eliciting another gasp of pleasure and pain from Sebastian. Satisfied, Reya casually flicks the tiny bell attached to the nipple clamp with her index finger. The sound is both beautiful and ridiculous.
“Alright, my sexy slave,” Reya purrs. “You have guests waiting.”
With the sharp pressure and pleasure of the clamps shouting constantly at him from his burdened tits, Sebastian carefully returns to the task at hand. Approaching Yuna, he bends low so she can easily sample the food from the platter. “Deviled eggs,” he intones in a clearly enunciated, neutral voice amid the tinkle of bells. “Courtesy of my master.”
“Oh, these look delicious!” Yuna cries, taking one. “And you look delicious,” she adds, giving one of his nipple bells a flick. Sebastian blushes, straightens, and moves over to Emma.
“I hear Wraithmoore is quite pleasant this time of year, Vinselius.”
A man in a black and red velvet doublet with black leather trim sipped the soup from his silver spoon and wiped his mouth politely with his napkin before responding.
“Why yes, Indigo. It is. The heather turns a lavender color that complements the pale yellow of the late summer grass quite beautifully.” The man’s short, black goatee and mustache on his thin, angular face gave him an aristocratic air that was strongly reinforced by the tone of condescension that never left his eyes or his voice. “It’s not enticing or vibrant like everything here seems to be, of course. It is a pleasure for those with refined tastes.”
“I see. I should love to see it someday.” Indigo flashed her guest a smile, her lustrous black hair spilling to her shoulders and down her back. Her silk robe dipped seductively in a low ‘V’, exposing her pale skin down to nearly her navel and teasing hints of her breasts on either side.
Despite the seduction, however, Indigo was no harlot. She was queen of a criminal organization that ruled one of the greatest cities of the Sunshine Coast and for hundreds of miles in any direction, through which trade, influence, and information flowed like blood through a heart. This was her table and these her guests.
“Perhaps you might return with me to Ravenscrag Keep when this unfortunate business is concluded,” Vinselius offered.
“That would be a delight,” Indigo replied. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to get away. You know how business can keep you tied down.” She kept her tone sufficiently interested to avoid giving offense, but had no intention of taking her guest up on the offer. She would never risk her person so far from the seat of her power. And besides, she knew an insincere offer when she heard one.
Vinselius drained the wine in his cup before turning to the woman opposite him. “Do you travel much, Maeve?”
“I traveled extensively when I was younger,” the elven woman replied. “I made it a point to explore as widely as I could.” She wore a semi-permanent expression that hinted she found something amusing, but refused to let on about what it was. Her fitted, leather armor over a white shirt was simple in style but exquisitely embroidered and featured epaulettes carved to look like feathers. She wore her white blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail tied off with a blue ribbon.
“Having spoiled the novelty of it, however, I rarely travel anymore. Besides,” she continued, “like Indigo I find myself tied down with leadership responsibilities. As it is, I rarely leave Falconloft.”
“Is that so? Then we are fortunate and honored that you would travel so far to join us this evening,” Vinselius said, his tone bereft of gratitude.
“Indeed,” Indigo added. “Which brings us to the topic du jour. But first, more wine.” She raised her hands and clapped softly twice. Ilya, who had been standing silently exactly one step behind and to the side of her Mistress, turned on cue and walked to a polished hardwood chest of drawers on which stood jugs of wine bathing in ice. She wore leather cuffs on her wrists connected by a twelve inch chain, but this did not impede her from bearing the wine to the table and filling the guests’ goblets.
Ilya decided that having to wait on Mistress’ dinner guests wasn’t so bad. Kitchen staff had brought the soup course to the door of Mistress’ chambers on a fancy, wheeled tray, and all she had had to do so far was place the bowls in front of the guests.. She had poured wine before the guests arrived, per Zinny’s instructions. Despite her shackles, she had pulled it off without incident. Since then, she had simply stood at attention behind her Mistress, waiting to be called upon.
There were a few things she had learned about being Mistress’ dinner slave that she hadn’t liked, however. One was having to lean over to carefully refill goblets (Zinny had impressed upon her over and over again how important it was not to spill). This brought her breasts quite close to the guests’ faces. Putting your boobs in a stranger’s face was awkward enough with clothes on; it would have been much more embarrassing if she were wearing only a bra; but it was positively loaded with sexual tension given that her boobs were completely bare. Ilya found it hard to focus on pouring wine when her tits were at eye level and inches from a perfect stranger’s nose. It didn’t help that each nipple was pierced with a metal ring, or that hanging from each ring was a small bell that tinkled brightly whenever she moved. Zinny had put them on her prior to the dinner. She had never felt so humiliated in her adult life.
Ding, ding, ding! The bells attached to the clamps on Sebastian’s nipples ring out clearly as Ingrid flicks them with her fingers.
“One second, guys,” she apologizes before taking a spring roll and biting down. “These are too good to pass up.” A silence ensues as Ingrid feasts. Silus reaches over and lightly squeezes Sebastian’s scantily clad butt.
“Ooo!” Sebastian gasps. Then, seeing it was Silus, protests, “Hey!”
“What do you mean, ‘hey’?” Silus responds in kind. “Am I allowed to play with the slave? Or is that only something Yuna gets to do?” He looks to Reya eyebrows raised.