In the Zone by Sierra Cartwright Page A

gratitude.
    “Sway from side to side, Alani, so the audience can see the chain move.”
    The pressure, although it wasn’t terrible, hurt. Normally she’d barely register it, but damn, he’d already tortured her.
    “And to demonstrate what I mean…” He tugged the chain and pulled the clamps off.
    She pitched forward and gasped, barely mumbling her thanks.
    “Back into position,” he snapped.
    Instinct told her to wrap her arms across her breasts, but that’s not what she really wanted. She wanted more . She slowly put her hands behind her neck and thrust out her chest.
    She closed her eyes for a moment when she saw the next clamps. Japanese clovers.
    He held them up so the audience could see them.
    Some of the clovers were more brutal than others. She wondered which he’d selected.
    “These are my personal favorites,” he said. “Sub, offer me your right tit.”
    She cupped her breast, squeezed, and lifted. He twisted her nipple, and then he attached the clamp.
    She drank in a breath and expelled it quickly.
    These were mean.
    “Breathe through it,” he told her. “I love how your tit looks when it’s clamped like that. For me.”
    She managed to whisper a thank-you.
    “Now the left one.”
    “Yes,” she said softly.
    She worried her lower lip as she allowed the pain to settle in. Before she’d fully absorbed it, before she could formulate a word, he said, “Now, doms, this is why I prefer this particular style.”
    He tugged on the chain.
    She cried out as she was jerked forward.
    “Rather than releasing like the tweezer-style, these simply get tighter. And that means you can also add weights to them.”
    She forced herself into a standing position. She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes.
    “Would you like that, Alani?”
    When she didn’t answer, he lifted her chin gently.
    “Do you need to use your safe word?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “Look at me.”
    She did.
    “Would you like me to add weights to your clamps?”
    “Yes, Sir. Please. Thank you for putting the clamps on.”
    He covered the mic long enough to say, “That’s my girl.”
    His approval made her heart do flip-flops.
    As she concentrated and the blood flow to her nipples became constricted, the pain receded.
    “Actually,” he said. “I want you to add the weights.”
    From somewhere in the room, she heard a gasp.
    “Beast,” she muttered under her breath.
    “That’ll cost you,” he said again, covering the mic. The threat was delivered without any real heat.
    He handed her a weight. She struggled a bit, ending up tugging on the clamp. She gritted her teeth against the pain and focused on the task.
    When the first was in place, he offered her the second.
    As she worked it into place, he said, “Stop.”
    “Sir?”
    She glanced up, puzzled.
    “How’s your pussy?”
    “I’m not sure I understand the question, Sir.”
    “Are you wet, Alani? Is the pain turning you on? Spread your legs.”
    As soon as she did, he placed a hand between her legs and stroked her clit before delving into her pussy. “You’re damp, sub.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Periodically check in with your submissive,” he said a bit louder, in his best teaching voice. “He or she has placed a lot of trust in you. Don’t abuse it. It’s okay to cause distress, but help your sub manage his or her pain. And don’t let the situation get out of control. Doms, that’s your obligation. Alani, continue.”
    When she was finished, she clenched and unclenched her fists four times before saying, “Thank you, Sir.”
    He gathered the chain and twisted his hand in it.
    She moved toward him, seeking to lessen the bite.
    “As lovely as you look like that, with the weight pulling your nipples and you on your tiptoes to try to control the situation, I want our audience to get another view. On all fours, sub.”
    She lowered herself gingerly.
    As she did, he continued the lesson. “Beware of strong-willed subs, and take immediate action to correct their