In the Zone by Sierra Cartwright

didn’t. “Nothing, Sir.”
    “Anything particular you want me to know?”
    He knew she was a painslut. The question was how much he’d exploit that knowledge. “No, Sir.”
    “Are you ready to proceed?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Please stand and remove your skirt.”
    She got to her feet slowly. Kneeling with her knees so far apart had tired her muscles.
    She was careful to keep her gaze downcast as she removed the skirt.
    Master Nathaniel scooped it up from the floor and placed it on a small side table. “Now the top, if you please.”
    The skintight material had seemed like a good idea when she was getting dressed. Now that she was struggling in front of an audience, she wished she had chosen something else.
    Master Nathaniel ignored her and addressed the room. “Doms, here’s a moment of decision. You can help your submissive. Or you can watch her struggle. And you can punish her for the fact she wore something that kept her body inaccessible.”
    “Punish her,” one helpful man called out.
    “Excellent idea,” Master Nathaniel said. “Stay still, Alani,” he told her. “Since you kept your tits covered, I’ll punish them specifically. Raise your arms.”
    He effortlessly removed her top and then stepped to the side to deposit the garment on top of her skirt.
    She was nearly naked. She had on her heels, stockings, and garter belt. Mercifully he hadn’t demanded she remove her thong.
    When he returned to her, he turned sideways so he had full access to her body without blocking anyone’s view.
    “Put your hands behind your neck and stick out your chest.”
    Once she did, he captured her right breast and held it in his palm, as if weighing it. Then he squeezed her nipple. Hard.
    She gasped.
    He almost pulled her off balance, and her eyes watered.
    “Are you forgetting something, Alani?”
    Forgetting something? Oh, God, yes! “Thank you for removing my top, Sir.”
    He tweaked her nipple again, but this time not quite as hard. “Much better.” To the crowd, he said, “A proper sub always expresses her gratitude, and if he or she doesn’t, it’s your responsibility to remind them.”
    She kept her gaze focused on the ground. Stupid. How could she have been so stupid? The scene had barely started and she’d already forgotten his cardinal rule.
    “You have lovely breasts, Alani.”
    “Thank you, Sir.”
    “While I pull on your right nipple, I want you to squeeze your left one.”
    The pain and pleasure was exquisite.
    He squeezed her harder than she possibly could. He was relentless.
    A few seconds later, he released his grip. “You may stop now,” he told her.
    “Thank you, Sir.”
    “Some subs are quicker studies than others,” he told the audience as she put her hands behind her head again. “Do remember, doms, if you have rules that are inflexible, enforce them with quick and immediate punishment.”
    There were noises of assent.
    Because of the lighting, it was difficult to see anyone who was watching her. Even though they were in front of dozens of people, it was almost as if she were here with him alone.
    “Are you nipples tender, Alani?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Then clamping them would really hurt.”
    Her pussy dried. “Yes, Sir.”
    “Good.”
    He moved toward the table and pulled out several sets of clamps. He held up a pair of tweezer clamps. “If you prefer to give your sub a light-to-medium amount of pressure, these clamps are good. The trouble is, if you tug on them, they can come off. That’s not all bad,” he said. “For example… Alani, if you please, cup your breasts and offer them to me.”
    “Yes, Sir.” When she’d said she was into pain, he’d taken her seriously.
    He pinched her right nipple viciously, compressing it. Before she could gasp, he’d affixed a clamp.
    He tightened the clamp until she winced; then he tightened it a bit more.
    “Thank you, Sir,” she managed.
    He repeated the process with her left nipple. And she gritted out her