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She motioned me to sit.

Through the cold, excessive light my eyes only saw the object of more mortification to come.
Sensing my hesitation, she tugged on the leash.

I obeyed, again.
The seat was cold.

I could not look at her. I could not look at anything. I felt so low, so defeated.

I choked, I was going to cry.
What was going on I thought, shivering and biting my lips.
Lydia seized my nipple.
Squeezed a little.

"Are you gonna cry like a baby?" she asked.

The tone was a little severe but there was no disdain, no mockery.

"Is that how you do with Tawny?"

Hearing the name of my lover, I lifted my gaze and met her eyes.
She modulated the pressure on my tit, from the edge of pain to gentle pressure.
*Tawny*, I thought and tears blurred my eyes but they were stopped by a sharp, sudden, more cruel pinching.

"Aahh!", I yelped.

"Yes girl I know much about you. I know about your Mistress".

We stared at each other. Her tone had been soft, almost sympathetic.

"But here you belong to me. I'm not your silvery Domme."

We fell silent again: Her gaze was steady, almost piercing.
She began twitching the nipple, as if a parallel dialogue was going on from her two expert fingers to my sensitive bud.

"Here you're mine. You're my thing."

I was now fighting back the tears and the need to beg.

After a while, seeing I was unable to relieve my bladder, she pulled on the leash.

"Come. Let's go back there", she summoned me.
"I guess they're waiting."

I stood, terrified.

"You're allowed to walk, pet."

Description

Story by

ART by

FIRST:

Mature Content

PREVIOUS:

Mature Content

NEXT:

Mature Content

______________________________________________________________________________________

She motioned me to sit.

Through the cold, excessive light my eyes only saw the object of more mortification to come.
Sensing my hesitation, she tugged on the leash.

I obeyed, again.
The seat was cold.

I could not look at her. I could not look at anything. I felt so low, so defeated.

I choked, I was going to cry.
What was going on I thought, shivering and biting my lips.
Lydia seized my nipple.
Squeezed a little.

"Are you gonna cry like a baby?" she asked.

The tone was a little severe but there was no disdain, no mockery.

"Is that how you do with Tawny?"

Hearing the name of my lover, I lifted my gaze and met her eyes.
She modulated the pressure on my tit, from the edge of pain to gentle pressure.
*Tawny*, I thought and tears blurred my eyes but they were stopped by a sharp, sudden, more cruel pinching.

"Aahh!", I yelped.

"Yes girl I know much about you. I know about your Mistress".

We stared at each other. Her tone had been soft, almost sympathetic.

"But here you belong to me. I'm not your silvery Domme."

We fell silent again: Her gaze was steady, almost piercing.
She began twitching the nipple, as if a parallel dialogue was going on from her two expert fingers to my sensitive bud.

"Here you're mine. You're my thing."

I was now fighting back the tears and the need to beg.

After a while, seeing I was unable to relieve my bladder, she pulled on the leash.

"Come. Let's go back there", she summoned me.
"I guess they're waiting."

I stood, terrified.

"You're allowed to walk, pet."