French Blue by Natasha Bond

opened the smaller of the red velvet boxes.
    She was right. There was nothing comfortable about the objects he held between his fingertips.
    “Beautiful, non?”
    Words froze in her throat as the nipple clamps sparkled wickedly in the evening sunlight from the window. Sunrays glinted off the silver clamps and the multicoloured jewels suspended from the tiny silver chains. Lisa’s stomach swished and her nipples stiffened in anticipation of the sensations that awaited.
    Olivier swung the clamp gently, and it made a faint tinkling sound. “I don’t need to explain what these are. Your face says it all.”
    “Yes, maître .”
    “Well?”
    She gave a pert bob. “Why, thank you for the experience, maître .”
    He winked. “That’s the right attitude. I’ll be back very soon.”
    He laid one of the clamps on top of the box while he collected her clothes from the stool and took them into his room. Lisa was unable to tear her eyes away from the jewels sparkling in the sun shafts. They were very beautiful, and the silver clamps to which they were attached seemed tiny and innocuous. The thought of them capturing her aroused flesh in their tight embrace made her nipples harden even more. She tried an experimental tug on the handcuffs. It was impossible to move her hands at all. Her palms were locked together. There would be no escaping this experience even if she had wanted to, except by use of her safe word, and she had no intention of using it.
    Olivier came back into the room. “Are you okay? You seem a little pale.”
    “Apart from being handcuffed and about to have my nipples clamped? Yes, I’m just great.”
    He laughed softly. “Good. Now we need to do some prep, because it’s very important that these are applied to fully erect nipples. Otherwise…” He winced.
    “But I thought they were designed to hurt, maître ?”
    “To give erotic discomfort, yes, but also intense pleasure and so…”
    Lisa tilted her head back and sighed as his mouth closed around her areola. He sucked on her right nipple, drawing it out, making it constrict even more. After he’d removed his mouth, he tugged the swollen tip with his fingers, twisting gently. She moaned, every nerve jumping as the prep went on and on. She squeezed her eyes shut, abandoning herself to the sensations, while he murmured French endearments to her, gently, teasing, disarming…
    “Oh, fuck!”
    The tinkling was followed by a pinch so intense, her head swam. Instinctively, she tried to wrench her hands apart, but they stayed locked together. Olivier held her shoulders, soothing. “Shh… cherie , breathe. It will ease, I promise.”
    She let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding and glanced down at her right breast. Her engorged nipple was trapped between the fierce little jaws of the clamp. She now knew the reason for the jewels and bells. They were weights designed to drag on the nipple and increase the tension.
    Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I had no idea it would feel this intense.”
    “No one ever does,” said Olivier, then his mouth descended on her other breast. She whimpered as his lips soothed and stimulated her, distracting her from the ache but not from the fact that in a minute or so, the second clamp would have to be applied.
    She tried to surrender to the sensation of his tongue laving her free nipple, focusing on the feathery flicks of his tongue around her areola and the gentle tug as he drew the nipple between his teeth. One breast throbbed fiercely, the other ached with pleasure. The contrast between the two drove her insane.
    He blew on her wet nipple and then stopped. “You’re magnificent,” he said. Lisa tensed, anticipating the nip of the clamp, but instead his hand moved lower, parted her labia and drew a finger through her wetness. Her sex rippled as every part of her was teased and tormented.
    Olivier held up his moist forefinger and rubbed it over her bare nipple. “Your own juices…” he said. “But