Truth or Dare (4 page)

 “No, you
really don’t.”

She looked at
her tits and smirked.  “Then do your worst, Suckwad.”

Five minutes
later, I had the first of two really tight alligator clamps biting
a chunk of skin just to the left of her areola.  I could tell
by the look on her face that it hurt.  Of course, the “Oh,
fuck” she repeated over and over was a clue, too.

I'd thought
about letting it chomp right on her nipple, but I decided that what
I had in mind next would probably be too much if I put it
there.

See, the clamp
was attached to a red wire running back to an electrical box. 
A second black wire ran from the box to a second clamp.  The
plan was to hook her up and French fry her nipple.  I opened
the second clip and pressed into her tit on the opposite side of
the same areola.  Her eyes widened, and she hissed when I let
the clamp go.  The little teeth had to hurt like hell, but
what was coming would be a lot more fun.

Like I said, the script called for her
to 
act 
like I was dialling up the electricity and frying her perky
nipple.  Nothing said she’d actually have to sizzle.  It
wasn’t as if the audience would know the difference.  When I
saw that there were real batteries in the box, though…well, I
decided on another script change.  After all, reality TV is
always better, huh?

When I pressed
the red button and let the electricity fly, she squealed for real
and shook her tits like crazy.  The clamps held despite the
quaking.  Once she was done, she looked down at her tit as if
it was still on fire.

“I can fake it
just fine, Dickweed!”

I cranked a
dial and hit the button again.  She responded by twisting
wildly.  I figured it was in agony, but I really didn’t
care.  Her boobs looked great bouncing like that, and she was
getting to learn a lesson.

 “My
name’s not ‘Dickweed,’ love.”

She glared at
me.  “Sorry…Fuckwad!  Do that again and I’ll…”

“Yes?”

I did it
again, and held the button down, watching her tits sling around
until she finally managed, “Okay, OKAY! Jeff, I’m sorry!”

“Say, ‘Pretty
please.”

She was
slapping her boobs so hard that the metal clamps were banging
against each other, sparking right over her nipple.

“Fuck! PRETTY
PLEASE!”

But I was
having way too much fun.  I held the button down for a five
count before I let it go.  She collapsed in a heap, breathing
like she’d run a 5K.  I undid the clamps and set the box on
the floor behind the chair.  By the time she looked up at me,
I’d had time to check out her nipples.  I was surprised the
bite marks weren’t bleeding.  I waited for her to say
something, but she looked at the handcuffs instead.  My bet
was she was trying to decide what I’d do if she made another smart
ass comment.  She stayed quiet.  She wasn’t stupid, just
a bitch.

“See how being
polite can get things done?”

Her wet eyes
flared, but she didn’t say anything.  Taking that as a good
sign, I checked the ‘to do list.’  The guy that wrote it was
one tracked and short on imagination, but I’d already figured out
how to fix that.

By the time I
got back with the hemp rope, she was watching me.  She looked
at it and frowned.  She knew what was next on the list. 
“You going to tie my tits with that?”

I
nodded,  “Yep.”

“But, that’s
what that white rope was for.”

She was
talking about a coil of soft nylon rope that I’d brought.  I’d
seen the coarse hemp across the room when I first came in.  It
just seemed like more fun.  “Yeah,  I guess it probably
was.  I like this stuff better.”

I checked Gary
to make sure he was ready.  When he nodded, that stupid grin
still plastered to his face, I snagged her right tit and pulled it
out, giving it a twist for good measure.  I wrapped the first
loop around it and yanked as hard as I could, almost lifting her
out of the chair.  She didn’t scream, but her gasp was still
fun.

“God damn,
don’t tear it off.”

“I bet he’d
pay you more if I did.”

 I
wrapped the rope around her breast, yanking each loop like I did
the first, making certain it hurt.  It'd hurt even more when
her tit swelled up and the blood ran out of oxygen.  After
about seven loops, I switched tits.  When I was done, I ran
the rope up through an old plant hanger hook in the ceiling then
went to get the candles—like the script called for.  It was
fun watching her watch me.  Since I’d already changed the
script once, I could see her mind churning.


You are just going to
use 
wax
,
right?”

I really got
nervous when she read my mind, because I'd really considered
tickling her nipples with the flame a little.  “I guess you’ll
just have to see.”

As I lit the
candles, I think it was the first time that I saw her look
afraid.  When I started dripping wax on her right tit, she
watched me closely, hardly flinching as I dribbled the melted
liquid across the tops of her boobs.  After I did her left
tit, I shifted the candle down so that the flame danced just below
her breast.

“You afraid of
a little fire, Cecie?”

She looked up
at the rope then back down at her lavender titties.  She spoke
fast, like she was trying to be in charge, but knew she
wasn’t.  “Hang me, Jeff.  Hang me by my tits
instead.  You know you want to.”

I have to
admit, she got my attention, but the wet gleam on the plastic
between her legs made me feel bold. 

“That’s a
great idea...in a minute.”

I shifted the
candle until the flame flickered between her boobs then moved it
from inside to out, quickly swathing her nipple and the tight
wrinkles around it in flame.  Before she could let out a gasp,
the fire was past.  Her lips parted as if she was about to
talk, and I moved it back to the inside just a little slower. 
Her whimper was quiet, but she wasn’t fooling me.  Her legs
spread wider, telling me she was getting off on the fear, if
nothing else.

As much as I
wanted to watch her squirm, and the idea of Cecilia Nipple Carbon
had more than a little bit of taboo cannibalistic appeal, I held
the candle close enough to her face that she could blow it
out.  Her relief was palpable, and she didn’t even try to
protest when I grabbed the dangling rope tails.

I looked over
at Gary.  His eyes were even wider than hers had been when she
thought I was going to cook her nipple, but his camera was ready.
 Without warning her, I pulled down on the ropes.

As I’ve
mentioned, it wasn’t the first time her eyes got wide, or that she
gasped.  I bet it was the first time she’d been hauled off the
ground by her tits, though, chair and all.  Her boobs bulged
like two over-filled, purple balloons on the verge of
exploding.  They were so smooth and glossy that I could hardly
tell where her areolae or nipples were.  She was heavier than
I expected, and it didn’t take me long to realize there wasn’t any
way I could keep her off the ground and still do stuff to her
boobs.

I let her back
down and was a little surprised that she didn’t say a thing. 
She just slumped, panting while I took off the cuffs and
straps.

It wasn’t
until I lifted her chin with my fingers that she met my eyes. 
She didn’t smile, but she wasn’t mad either.  If anything they
said, “More.”

I pulled on
the rope again, lifting her up until her toes were a couple of
inches off the ground and she started to rotate around in the
air.  She held still, moaning as she spun.  Gary was
changing angles as fast as he could, zooming in and out on her tits
and her face.  It wasn’t until he moved in for a close-up of
her crotch that I noticed the liquid glaze coating her inner
thighs.

Not that I
normally look, but I could see the outline of his cock against his
jeans.  It goes without saying mine was doing the exact same
thing.

Cecilia was
just breathing hard.  Her eyes were closed as she dangled
there.  Her breasts were getting darker by the minute.  I
don’t think I’d ever been so turned on.  But my arms were
saying, “Fuck this," so I hauled her up a little more and tied the
rope off.

She swayed,
moaning quietly, alternating between reaching for the ground that
was several inches too far from the tips of her toes and pulling
her knees up as if she was trying to relieve the pressure.

I figured that
was a good time to show her the next change in the script and
pulled out the needles.  Since she didn’t see me, I lightly
jabbed the nearest nipple.

Her eyes flew
wide and she looked from my hand to her purple tits and back.

For a second I
thought I saw her smile.  Her voice was raspy, hard to hear
through whatever she felt.  “That’s not what the script says…”
Then she did smile, just a little.  “…Dickweed.”

The bitch 
wanted
 me to skewer her tits.  Her eyes told
me so.  She was playing a game now.  Hell, she may have
been playing me the whole time.  I held up a needle and got up
close to her right tit, acting like I was looking for just the
right spot.  I didn’t mind the game at all.

When I was
sure I had her attention, I jabbed it into the left side of her
wide, slick, purple areola.  I wasn’t slow.  I wasn’t
careful.  I almost expected it to pop.  Gauging from her
squeal, she did too, especially when I wiggled it around a
bit.  I took the second needle and did just the opposite with
it, on the opposite tit—slowly working it in to make her
squirm.

By the time I
got to the fourth needle, she was crying.  It wasn’t the sobby
kind of cry, just a quiet, weepy cry.  But, she wasn’t telling
me to stop, or calling me any pet names.  Her thighs were
glistening almost to her knees.  I noticed because she was
rubbing them together.

By the time I
got the sixth needle in, she was panting and staring at her
tits.  One of the needles, in her right boob, was starting to
trickle dark, blue-red blood.  She watched it for a second
then looked at me sideways until she’d spun so she couldn’t see
me.

“Is that the
best you’ve got… Jeff?”

 I felt
my eyebrows raise.  If I was right, she was through baiting me
and was really just asking.  I was really starting to rethink
our relationship.

I dropped my
jeans and slipped in behind her.  As her bottom moved in front
of me, I thought about spanking her, or taking the flail to her,
but I wasn’t certain her tits would last much longer. 
Instead, I made sure she felt my rock-hard cock against her
ass.

Her voice grew
louder.  “God, yes!  Fuck me!”

I slipped the
head of my cock into her.  She tried to shove back into me,
but she had no purchase.  I grabbed her tits and squeezed them
hard, then slammed home.  Her pussy was tight and warm and
wet, so wet I knew it would take a bit to come, even as horny as I
was.  At first, she just moaned and kept trying to push
herself back against me.  I thrust again, lifting her up and
letting her drop.  She hooked her legs back around me, crying
out as each thrust took its toll on her tits.  I squeezed them
harder as I pounded, slapping loud and wet.  Despite her
cries, I knew she was close.  So I did the only thing that I
could think of and twisted a needle.

Screaming like
a fucking banshee, she came again.  Her pussy crushed my cock
and set me off.  I grabbed her hips and pulled her back
against me, grinding into her with all my strength as she milked me
dry.

Five minutes
later, I held her on top of me on the couch.  Gary zoomed in
on her boobs while  I tugged the needles free.  Dark
blood seeped from the little holes and ran down the swollen
curves.  Her tits were a dark purple, like big, juicy
plums.  Plums dribbled with raspberry sauce.  Plums that
looked like they really needed to be bitten.

But instead of
indulging in her fruit, I kissed her cheeks and lips and neck while
I untied them and Gary packed his stuff.

After I’d
cuddled her and massaged her breasts back to a battered-looking
normal color for a few minutes, she looked up at me through
half-lidded eyes.

“Truth or
Dare?”

I couldn’t
help but smile.  “Dare.”  I was feeling
adventuresome.


Next time, 
you
 write the script.”

 

###

 

Matt Nicholson
is a
freelance writer and the Publisher of Darker Pleasures. Throughout
the first decade of the 21st century, he published, edited and
wrote stories for the erotic adult webzine of the same name. A fan
of breasts and breast-oriented BDSM, he has written and edited
hundreds of short stories ranging from R-rated erotica to hard-edge
bondage and BDSM fiction. Matt is perhaps best known in certain
circles for
The Breast Punishment Primer
, a non-fiction
reference for all things having to do with tit torture. He is in
the process of writing his first full-length novel,
Families
, expanding on a series of vampire-centric BDSM
erotica stories featuring characters and concepts touched on in the
short stories
The Alcove
and
Becoming Eternal
. For
those of you intrigued by such things,
Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em:
Erotic Stories of Breasts and BDSM
features thirteen of his
best-selling stories.

 

You can find other e-books written by Matt
Nicholson at
Darker Pleasures
(www.darkerpleasures.com)

 

Darker
Pleasures
began as an adult web magazine in 1999. It
featured original text and photo-illustrated stories, images,
video, art and articles specializing in breast-oriented bondage and
BDSM. Darker Pleasures featured stories written by dozens of erotic
authors including Matt Nicholson, Elizabeth Faraday, Lee Ash, Jude
Mason, Adrian Hunter, Bonnie Dee, Leo Bulero and others. The
webzine ended its run in January 2010. In August 2011, Darker
Pleasures started publishing revised and edited releases of BDSM
erotica originally featured in the pages of its e-magazine through
Amazon, Smashwords, Apple iBookstore, Barnes and Noble and other
fine outlets.

Other books

Bear Adventure by Anthony McGowan, Nelson Evergreen
Public Relations by Armstrong, Tibby
Sparks and Flames by CS Patra
A Private Venus by Giorgio Scerbanenco
Salvaged by Stefne Miller
The Road to Hell - eARC by David Weber, Joelle Presby
Stiltsville: A Novel by Susanna Daniel
Not Stupid by Anna Kennedy
P is for Peril by Sue Grafton
Exodus From Hunger by David Beckmann


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