A Little Pinprick Novels & Stories

he says in a sad voice, I get what he means if this place wasn't kink-friendly we'll all have to hide a big part of ourselves behind closed doors. I once read a story, it's called littles academy, a world where everyone is either sub or dom, and littles are regular and real things, I loved that book and the author is awesome. But sadly outside of this company walls showing my little self would be a big mistake people would judge and talk badly about you.

Let's go" He ordered and I stood up. "When we come face to face with people, I expect you to compose yourself. Your name is Lauren Dennis, you're a software engineer from a prestigious yet unknown family and you schooled in Hamilton University. You lived a sheltered life. Your hobbies are reading, writing and violin practice. Are we clear?

It slides over my hip, across my stomach, circles my belly button, then moves lower. “Don’t move,” he says softly. The first prick is just above my hipbone… sharp, quick, and gone… but it leaves the skin pulsing. Before it can fade he gives me another, deeper this time... on the inside of my thigh. My toes curl into the mattress. He runs the tip over the swell of my breast slowly enough that I can guess where it will land. The sting comes right at the edge of my nipple, sharp enough to make me cry out.

Now, my claws can be that protective shield for someone else. My gaze flicks sharply toward Vivian, who had just reached the high metal bus steps, all smug alpha confidence and swinging hips. A cold smirk tugugs at the corner of my lips. With a swift flick of my fingers, a tiny silver needle slips out into the forest air, completely invisible to every eye around the vehicles. A beat later, Vivian lets out a startled, high-pitched shriek as the silver pricks his leg, and his body goes crashing backward off the bus steps.

The tiny needles grazing my skin provoke more moans. The pinwheel is now in play, intensifying my moans, and the whip's sting on my ass elicits screams. As he presses the pinwheel harder against my skin, the whip strikes again. "Blue", I utter, my mind overwhelmed. I adore every sensation, yet the need to climax soon lingers, and I contemplate using the safe word.

I don’t want to go straight to the limit again. The piercing of the needle makes me moan, memories flashing through my mind of the last time. The cross of the needles when he pushed it was like endorphins released and I nearly came on the spot. The pierce of the second needle makes me moan, my body screaming for him to push on them. Waiting, my breathing getting faster, the feel of the small needles running across my skin makes me moan. He’s using the pinwheel. My moans get louder. The sting of the whip across my ass makes me scream as he pushes the pinwheel harder against my skin, the whip hitting again.

“We found the print of wolf’s paws on your arm soaked with blood.” It was only then that it became all clear to me. I was wearing away from consciousness because I had a deep wound, and not a tiny pin prick. I was about to sleep after taking the pain from pin prick, as I normally do to clear my inner pain and my head before going out from my room, when suddenly the pin prick became so painful, that I had to hold my arm close to my sleeve for the pain was so much.