Chapter 165: New Adornement
The tears had dried into stiff, salty tracks inside the blue leather hood. Rupert sat in the absolute silence of the ante-room, the straps biting into his wrists and ankles, the cold steel plug a dull, persistent presence. The mirror was just a mirror again, showing him his own trapped, anonymous form. He felt hollowed out, scraped raw by what he’d seen.
The door clicked open.
Two pairs of footsteps entered. Abby, still in her glossy black latex, moved with a liquid grace. Julia, in her linen and trousers, carried an air of detached professionalism. They stood before him, blocking his view of his own reflection.
“Hello, Slave Blue,” Julia said, her voice even. “An instructive session, I trust.”
He had no words. A muffled sound escaped the hood’s mesh.
Abby reached out and traced a finger along his caged cock, trapped in its plastic prison. He flinched. “So eager, even after all that,” she chuckled. “Poor thing. All dressed up with nowhere to go.”
Julia placed a small, heavy-looking metal case on a side table Rupert hadn’t noticed before. She opened it with twin clicks. The interior was lined with black foam, holding neat rows of gleaming surgical steel: clamps, needles, forceps, and small, perfect gold rings.
“The calendar week in July,” Julia began, as if discussing a dental appointment. “The week marked with stars. It’s a special event. It requires new jewellery. A permanent adjustment to mark the occasion.”
Rupert’s breath quickened. The air felt thin.
“We’re going to pierce your nipples,” Abby said, cheerfully blunt. She leaned in close, her latex creaking. “Little gold rings. Just like your wife’s little gold bell. A matching set. Won’t that be pretty?”
“It is a prerequisite,” Julia stated, selecting a long, vicious-looking needle. She held it up, the light catching its sharp point. “You will wear them always. They will remind you of your place. Of her place. Of the week to come.”
A cold, antiseptic smell filled the air as Julia swabbed his left pectoral with iodine. The liquid was shockingly cold against his skin. Abby moved behind the chair. He felt her hands on his shoulders, not to restrain, but to possess.
“Now, this will hurt,” Julia said, matter-of-factly. “But pain is just information. The information here is that you belong to this process. Hold still.”
He saw the forceps move towards his nipple, glinting. They clamped down, a sudden, shocking bite of pressure that made him jerk against the straps. The sensation wasn’t pure pain; it was a bright, focused agony that radiated through his entire chest.
“Steady,” Abby murmured behind him, her breath warm on his ear through the hood.
He saw the needle, poised. Julia’s hand was perfectly steady. There was no ceremony. She pushed.
A white-hot lance of pure, stunning pain drove through the center of his nipple. It was a clean, sharp violation, a pop and then a deep, burning ache that made his eyes water anew. He grunted, a strangled animal sound.
“Good,” Julia said, her voice devoid of praise or condemnation. She swiftly threaded a small, seamless gold ring through the fresh hole, her fingers deft. The metal was cold in the hot, wounded flesh. She fastened it with a tiny bead. “One.”
She moved to the right side. Repeated the swab. The cold. The forceps bit again, and this time he knew what was coming, the dread coiling tighter than the straps. The needle pierced. The pain was somehow brighter, more acute because he was anticipating it. A choked sob rattled in his throat.
“Shhh,” Abby soothed, her hand sliding down to fondle his caged balls through the plastic. “Almost done. You’re taking it so well. Think about why you’re doing this. Think about July.”
The second ring was threaded and closed. Julia stepped back, examining her work. She applied a dab of clear ointment to each throbbing ring. The cold gel offered a second of relief before the deep, persistent ache settled in.
“There,” Julia said, closing the metal case. “Now you are properly adorned.”
Abby came around to face him. She pinched the new gold ring on his left nipple between her thumb and forefinger, latex against sensitized flesh, and gave it a firm, twisting tug.
“Fuck!” he yelled, the curse ripped from him.
“They’re sensitive, aren’t they?” Abby grinned. “They’ll stay that way for weeks. Every brush of your shirt, every time you move… you’ll feel them. You’ll think of her. You’ll think of the men who will be with her during her special week. You’ll wonder if any of them have rings like these.”
She leaned down, her face close to the hood’s eyeholes. “July is her celebration. A whole week of stars on the calendar. A different bull every night, we’re thinking. Maybe two on the Saturday. And you…” She tapped the plastic cage. “You’ll be right here. Locked. Pierced. Listening. Maybe watching. Aren’t you a lucky husband?”
Julia was cleaning her tools. “The aftercare instructions are simple. Clean twice daily with saline. No swimming. They are yours now. A part of you. We will see you for your next preparatory session before the week begins.” She looked at him, her flinty eyes assessing. “The mirror will show you many things, Slave Blue. Prepare yourself.”
They left him there, strapped in the chair, the new gold rings burning like brands on his chest. Each heartbeat sent a fresh pulse of pain through them, a metallic echo of the bell he had seen jingling on his wife’s hooded body. The mirror showed him a man he no longer recognized, decorated for a festival of his own cuckolding. The door clicked shut.
Silence returned, deeper now, filled only with the rasp of his breath and the twin throbs in his chest that promised this was only the beginning.