Enjoy me on your way home

You reach into your bag and pull out a three-ended chain. I goggle at it. I'm used to wearing them, of course, but this one is considerably thicker and heavier than the ones you've put on me before. Despite its heft, it’s beautifully and delicately crafted, and plated in gold to match my piercings.

“I had this custom made,” you say, reaching out and fastening the first end onto one nipple ring. “I’ve done extensive research, and with piercings as stable as yours, you shouldn’t be at any risk of tearing out.” You attach the chain to my other nipple and let it go, the long end falling between my legs. The sudden jerk at my nipples makes me gasp, more pain than pleasure. You lean down, rubbing gently at my clit with one hand as you find the end of the chain halfway down my thighs with the other. I arch my hips, pressing into your hand, and you chuckle.

“Such a responsive boy. I’m very excited to see how you respond to this.” There’s a click, your hand draws away, and the new weight of the chain as it hangs from my clit ring is making my knees go weak. With the light chains you’ve used on me before, it’s a teasing thing on its own, the soft tug and gentle brush of metal over my sensitive parts. This is a whole new league, the weight already pulling significantly on my nipples and clit, pain and pleasure rolled together, but the pain is already in the lead. Even if it were only pleasure, it’s so much.

The car rocks, and I can't bite back a whimper as the chain shifts and tugs at me, an extra spike of sensation. You smile and brush gently against the chain with your fingers. “Yes, I think this will be very good.”

You lead me down the train car. It has seats on one side facing center, and open-fronted cubicles on the other, with a bench against the outer wall. The first cubicle we pass is already occupied; another naked collared young man has his face buried in a woman’s lap, while another man is working the ****’s ass open with his fingers. The **** groans as two fingers slide in, and you tsk.

“She hasn’t trained that boy well enough. Slaves shouldn’t be loud on the train, at least not without permission. You know better.”

“Yes Sir.” My voice is unsteady as I struggle to adapt to the shifting twinges the chain won’t stop sending through me. I wish I could hold the damn thing still, at least while you found a seat, but I know this is what you want for me, so I just brace myself against a wall when the train lurches and my eyes nearly cross with the chain’s jerking swing.

Three cubicles down, you find one that is both empty and recently cleaned.