The first client

Nyasha reached for a pair of steel clamps, their teeth cruel and glinting in the low light. She let Emma watch as she tightened the screws, testing the tension with a flick of her finger. Then, with no warning, she snapped one onto Emma’s left nipple.

Emma shrieked, her whole body jolting against the cuffs. Pain burned, sharp and savage, shooting straight down into her cunt.

“Shhh,” Nyasha cooed, smirking. “That’s the sound I want. Pain makes you wetter, doesn’t it?”

Before Emma could answer, the second clamp bit down on her right nipple. She sobbed, chest heaving, her breasts pulled taut by the cruel weight of the chain linking them. Every shallow breath sent a new wave of fire through her chest and heat through her pussy.

Nyasha tugged the chain once, just enough to make Emma cry out again, then turned as a soft knock came at the door.

“Behave,” she warned, stroking Emma’s cheek with mock tenderness. Then she called, “Enter.”

The door opened.

A tall man stepped in. He looked mid-forties, his skin was as dark as Nyasha and he was massive, for a second Emma couldn't believe that anyone could be that big. His dark tailored suit clung perfectly to his frame, the cut showing off broad shoulders, a chest like stone. His jaw was sharp, clean-shaven, his hair clipped close. A gold watch flashed at his wrist. He exuded money, control, appetite.

He paused when his eyes fell on Emma, strapped wide, nipples clamped, body trembling with sweat. His mouth curled into a slow grin.

“Well,” he rumbled, voice deep, smooth, confident. “You’ve been busy, Nyasha.”

Nyasha smiled back, wicked. “A little entertainment while I waited. This one… she’s mine now. But tonight, you get what you came for.”

He laughed, low and rich, eyes never leaving Emma’s bare body. “Good. I like the way she squirms.”

Emma flushed scarlet, her posh accent spilling out in broken moans. “Please— Mistress— don’t let him— don’t show me off like this—”

Nyasha gripped her chin hard, forcing her to look at the man. “Shut your pretty mouth. You don’t speak unless I command it.”

The man removed his jacket, laying it carefully across a chair. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, watching Emma the entire time. The outline of his cock pressed thick against his trousers. Emma whimpered, her nipples screaming under the clamps, her pussy dripping down her thighs, the pendant so close to touching her clit.

Nyasha guided him to a leather chair directly across from Emma’s restrained body. “Sit. Watch her while I take care of you.”

He sank into the seat, spreading his thighs. Nyasha knelt gracefully, pulling his zipper down. His cock sprang out—thick, heavy, hard already. Emma gasped, her whole body jerking against the frame as if her cunt had clenched just from the sight.

“Eyes open,” Nyasha snapped at her. “You will watch me serve him.”

Emma’s posh voice cracked, ****. “Please, Mistress—please, let me touch myself—”

The clamps jangled as Nyasha yanked the chain, making Emma cry out in pain. “No. You will suffer. You will ache. You will drown in it.”

Then, locking her eyes on Emma’s, Nyasha swallowed the man’s cock deep into her throat. He groaned, hand gripping the back of her harness as she worked him expertly, her lips slick with spit and red lipstick smeared across his shaft. Emma sobbed at the sight, every thrust of his cock into Nyasha’s throat making her own pussy gush harder.

She begged, filthy words spilling uncontrollably. “Please— please let me lick it after— let me taste his cum— I’m so fucking ****, Mistress, I’ll do anything—”

The man chuckled, his voice rough with arousal. “She’s hungry.”

Nyasha pulled off him with a wet pop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “She doesn’t eat until I say she eats.”

His hand tightened in her hair, pushing her back down onto his cock. Nyasha moaned around him, her dark eyes still locked on Emma, letting her watch every obscene movement of her lips, every swallow of his length. Emma’s body thrashed in the restraints, the vibrator still humming against her clit but never enough, the clamps dragging her nipples into agony.

Minutes stretched, Emma’s whimpers turning to screams, until with a grunt the man came, spurting hot down Nyasha’s throat. She swallowed greedily, milking him, then finally pulled back, cum glistening at the corner of her mouth.

The man stood, adjusting his suit like nothing had happened. He gave Emma a slow smile. “She’s perfect, Nyasha. Keep her on the edge. I’ll be back for another show.”

Nyasha nodded, wiping her lips, and kissed his hand before he left. The door shut.

Emma’s whole body shook, sweat dripping down her neck, her cunt soaking the floor beneath her. “Please, Mistress—please, I’m begging you— don’t leave me like this—”

Nyasha slowly unclipped the cuffs, lowering Emma’s arms, but kept her wrists bound tightly behind her back. Emma staggered forward, still restrained, nipples raw, clit pulsing.

Nyasha pointed to the chair where the man had sat. A streak of cum still glistened on the leather.

“On your knees,” she commanded. “Clean it. With your tongue.”

Emma dropped instantly, breasts swinging heavy as she bent low. She pressed her mouth to the leather and licked, slow, ****, moaning at the taste.

Nyasha crouched beside her, stroking her hair. “Good girl. You’ll never cum until I say. And you’ll keep begging. Louder. Filthier. Until you’re nothing but my toy.”

Emma whimpered into the chair, licking every drop.