Read Truth or Dare Online

Authors: Matt Nicholson

Tags: #erotic, #sex, #breasts, #bdsm, #bondage, #punishment, #tits, #sadomasochism, #suspension, #piercing, #erotic torture, #disipline

Truth or Dare (2 page)

I dropped to
the couch, pulling her down on top of my lap with me.  She
leaned back against my chest and spread her legs wide over
mine.  Having never whipped a woman’s pussy before, I started
easy, slapping her lightly across the crotch.

“You can do
better than that.”

So, I
did.  Reaching around the front with my left hand, I grabbed
her nipple through her bra, used it like a handle to pull her back
into me, and slapped at her pussy hard.  I was surprised when
she started moaning.

I was more
surprised when, after a half dozen more lashes, she said,
“Harder!”

A handful of
tit and my cock poking into her butt would have been perfectly fine
by me.  Spanking pussy was icing on the cake.  Gary could
keep his fifty bucks.

After a few
more good thwacks, I figured everything had to be plump and red, so
I pushed her up off me to move to the next act—whipping her
ass.  She smiled as the first couple of lashes bounced her
butt.  When it started stinging, she laid across my lap. 
I milked a titty with one hand while whipping her hard with the
other.  It wasn’t as nice as I thought beating her boobs would
be, but it was plenty nice enough that I had to slip a hand down
the front of my pants to shift the rod again.

A dozen lashes
later, she started to whimper and squirm little.  Her butt was
fiery red and lined with gorgeous welts, but she didn’t fight
me.  I doubled up on the strokes, giving Gary time to get some
more hot footage until she finally squealed.  After a couple
to grow on, I let her lie panting across my legs while I dug out my
pocket knife.  I was starting to get into this website
stuff.

Her hair was
hanging to the floor, hiding her face, which left her bra strap
open for business.  My Spiderco sliced through it like it
wasn’t there.  Then I cut through the shoulder straps and
yanked the bra off and slung it across the room.  Gary was
peering into the camera, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  I saw
him grin even wider when I reached under her and tweaked her right
nipple, hard.  Her squeal was gratifying.

After another
quick squeeze, I sliced through the sides of her panties. 
They were wetter than my Fruit of the Looms were getting.  I
threw them at Gary, who wasn’t on the ball enough to keep them from
smacking on his face.  By the time he’d taken a deep sniff and
shoved them in a pocket, she was standing up, smiling like the Mona
Lisa, with her fingers locked behind her head.

She looked
down at my crotch and laughed.  “Horny much?”

I lashed at
her boobs.  “Not as much as you.”

She dodged
back, shaking her tits with just a little more effort than
necessary.  “Don’t you wish?”

We both knew
the truth.  Horny had been our entire state of existence when
we were together.

I grabbed her
wrist and pulled her back down on top of me.  Her rear filled
the empty space between my legs.  I knew she could feel my
dick digging into her when she ground it against him.  I
wrapped my arm around her neck in a choke hold and pulled her back
against my chest.  She pretended to struggle when I popped her
left tit.

I really
wanted to keep beating on them.  Bouncing tits just might be
the most enjoyable things to watch there is.  But the script
said I was 'still just warming her up,' so instead of whacking at
her nipples like I wanted, I started fingering her.  She was
wet, really wet, wetter than I thought she’d be.  That’s when
I noticed the bruises on her boobs for the first time.  They
were a greenish-yellow.  They’d been there awhile, but it made
me wonder if she hadn’t already been up to this kind of stuff with
someone else before now.

Thinking maybe
I’d add a couple, I squeezed one hard, sinking my fingers
deep.  There’s really nothing like the feel of a soft, warm
breast flowing between your fingers.  It’s like the nipple
between the fingertips and the bouncing tits things.  For a
guy, you just can’t describe it.

She gasped and
groaned a little while I mauled her for the camera.  Her
nipple and areola were still nice and hard.  Feeling them
brush against the inside of my palm made it hard for me to think
about what I was supposed to do next.

 If
damning the script for keeping me clothed would have helped, I’d
have done it, but her tits were close enough that I forgot about it
quick enough.  If I’d have been in charge, I’d have buried my
teeth into one of them.  That would have been the best way to
add bruises.  But, I wasn’t, so I started twisting a nipple
instead.

She moaned and
closed her eyes, grinding her butt harder against me before she
dropped her hand down the front of the couch.  I thought she
was just enjoying my great, macho work, but she pulled a couple of
chained pairs of clamps from under the cushion instead.

This time, she
did say, ‘stick to the script,’ but she didn’t sound nearly as
convinced as before.  Stifling a groan myself, I grabbed her
left nipple and pressed the spring-loaded clamp open. 

 When I
let it close, she moaned again, moving her right boob toward
me.  Nuts or not, Cecilia had me hornier than I’d ever been.
 I was just damned lucky she hadn’t found this website thing
before we broke up or I may have let my dick do way too much
thinking.

I snatched the
nipple and snapped the clamp closed.  She drew in a hissing
breath and left her lips open in that ‘oh, yes’ way she did and
slid her palm up her belly.  She stopped just at her tit,
closed her eyes and moaned some more, as if she was fighting
between yanking the clamps off and getting off on the pain.

I wasn’t sure
which of us was getting off the most.  I yanked on the chain
and the clamps actually got tighter.  I’d never seen anything
like them, but they were ingenious.  When I pulled harder and
stretched her nipples, both she and Gary said, “Oh, God” at the
same time.  If it weren’t for the fact that my cock was
bouncing like a pogo stick and I was almost ready to fuck the
script and her, I’d have laughed.

Instead, I
jerked the chain again.  This time, she replaced the deity’s
reference with something a bit more vulgar.  Like I said, I’d
have obliged her if I could have.  Being the nice guy I am,
and thinking maybe the “Oh, fuck” might become a reality if I
played my cards right, I stopped pulling on the chain to give her a
break.

Instead of
taking advantage of the lull in her torment, she pulled her
shoulders back, making the clamps tug her nipples anyway, and
shifted her rear so that it pushed into my crotch even
harder.  “Oh… stick to… the script.”

My cock had
never started tingling without help before, but there it was.

Never one to
buck an order, I tugged hard on the chain then pulled it up, down,
sideways, watching the flat jaws pinch deeper into that crinkly
part at the bottom of her nipple, making her tits bounce around as
much as I could.  Wacko as she may have been, I think I was
beginning to fall in love.  Then I remembered that the script
called for a second set of clamps.

I let the
chain drop to her belly and moved the clamps under her nipples,
pinching her areolae.

She cried out
when I opened them, and watched through almost glazed eyes when I
snapped them back on.  I put the second set above her
nipples.  By then she’d closed her eyes and her head
lolled back.  She was taking quick, shallow breaths, obviously
getting into the pain.  I thought about unzipping my pants,
sticking my dick up between her legs.

As wet as she
was, I could have pumped anywhere near her pussy and gotten the job
done, especially as horny as I was.  But I didn’t want the fun
to stop.  Instead, I yanked both of the chains, hard and
apart.  Instead of screaming like I figured, she pursed her
lips.  The last thing I expected to hear was, “Oooh, fuck
yes…” but that’s exactly what she said.  Then she shook her
tits so I’d do it some more.

 Not one
to disappoint, I pulled and tugged, letting the clamps bite
harder.  By then the rubber grips on the tips of the clamps
had to have been chafing pretty badly, but all she did was lay her
head back on my shoulder, grind her ass into me and moan while I
watched her tits bounce.  After one really hard yank that tore
the top clamp from her right nipple, she finally screamed.

But, before
the sound had stopped echoing through the small room, she
whispered, “The needles.”

I stopped
tugging and started looking around.  “Where?”

“Shit, under
the couch…” She fumbled around with her hand, finding nothing.
 “Damn it.  Gary…”

She
frantically fingered herself while Gary ran up and grabbed a bag of
hypodermic needles from just under the edge of the couch.  He
all but threw them at me and darted back.  I thought he was
going to fall and bust his head getting back to the camera. 
When he was set, I took one of the needles out of the bag and
looked at it.  It was fairly small, like one of the insulin
needles my dad used.

I noticed
there were about a dozen of them as well as several that were
thicker, and some that were gigantic.  The bag was supposed to
have fifty of the small ones.  Between the bruises and the
missing needles, I decided this probably wasn’t her first rodeo, so
I decided to jump right in.  I aimed between the two
dimply-looking marks the clamp had left on her areola and
jabbed.

 Her eyes
got wider and she hissed, but otherwise the wet spot I was feeling
in my crotch was as much from her as from me, and probably more
so.  I did the same to her left nipple, stabbing the needles
straight into it.  The third buried into her left nipple right
next to the other, right in the tip.

Tears had
actually started trickling down her cheeks, but instead of telling
me to stop she reached between her legs and started rubbing at her
pussy again.  While the wet, slapping sound echoed in the
room, I took a thicker needle and pricked at the thick folds of
meat between the clamp jaws, not quite spearing, but dotting the
hard, crushed flesh with tiny dots of red.  By then, I really
just wanted to poke her where the sound was coming from, and not
with any needles.

Her moans got
louder; my dick got wetter.  The longer we went, the more
certain I was I’d get to dip it.  Poor Gary was just getting
fifty bucks.  But since I wasn’t yet certain, I decided that
letting her come could spoil the rest of the fun; she'd probably
just go back to being Cecilia the Witch.  Since she didn’t
seem to find the little beads of blood pooling around her nipples a
bother, I figured the clamps coming off might distract her
more.

I grabbed the
chain near the left one and slowly pulled.  As her nipples and
tits stretched, she started rolling her hips, almost as if she
dared me to keep going.  I did, until the clamp slipped up and
right off the tip of her nipple, pulling both hypodermics out with
it.  She blurted another shrill squeal and redoubled her
fingering.  Figuring maybe she just needed a surprise to take
her mind off that nipple and her clam fingering, I just opened the
other clamp, letting the blood get back in.

She cried out
again and started pumping her fingers that much harder. 
Determined to keep her from coming, I sunk my finger into the tips
of both her tits, drove my nails into her areolas and twisted at
the same time as I stuck a needle sideways through the whole
mess.  She screamed alright, but it wasn't because of the
pain.  It was because she was coming.  Not willing to let
her win, I treated her nipples like taffy and even twisted the
needle, trying to hurt her, but it just helped her along.

I thought
about getting pissed.  I mean, it was my ego that she’d just
skewered by twiddling herself with a few fingertips instead of my
cock like I thought she'd do.  But, that’s when I remembered
what was next in the script.  I looked at Gary, who was
quickly rearranging himself while Cecilia was otherwise
occupied.  Once she sagged into me, I smiled at him.

He knew the
smile from all the times I’d beat him in poker.  He grinned,
reading my mind.  “The table?”

I unclamped
the last remaining clamp and savoured her squeal as the blood
burned back into the bruises and pokes.  “Oh, yeah... the
table!”

 

~~~

 

Before I got
to use the table, the list called for more needles.  I pulled
one of the one-size-below-pencil thick ones out of the bag and
showed it to her so she’d know what was coming.

She looked at
it without much care.  “It’s a needle.  Stick it in my
tit.”  You’d have thought she was talking about the
weather.

“You’re the
boss.”  Without warning, I jabbed it sideways through the skin
on the underside of her breast.  I have to admit, her gasp
made me grin.  I guess she expected me to grab her boob and
slide it in easy, or something.  Still smiling, I put another
one beside the first and shoved it through.  Her skin dimpled
for only a second before it popped in and then stretched a little
before it came out again.  I eyed her nipple, thinking about
how fun it’d be to just go for the gusto with the thickest one she
had.

Seeing where I
was looking, she growled.  “Later, dickhead.”

 Yeah,
the fucking script.  I thought that the guy that wrote the
script was an idiot.  Whatever story they had in mind would
have been even better if every needle speared Cecilia’s nipples and
areolae.  It’d sure do it for me.

 But,
hell, I was getting a free thrill out of the deal, so I decided not
to stare at the gift horse.  I slipped the third needle in
beside the first two, forming the silly arc they asked for. 
It was really kind of boring, though my dick said otherwise.

Well, 
boring
 wasn’t quite right.  I had a naked woman on my
lap and was getting to do things to her tits most guys couldn’t
imagine.  But, compared to other things I could have been
doing, it was boring.  Biting would have been a lot better, or
whipping them into a battered, bouncing frenzy.  Tying them so
they looked like fat purple balloons sounded fun, too.  He had
that in there later, though, so I could wait.

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