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Chapter 1: A Warm-up for Rita’s Breasts
She stiffened as she heard my footsteps on the floor. Even though she knew full well that it was useless, she struggled against the wrist-cuffs restraining her arms in a wide V above her head. Her legs struggled against the spreader bar as she tried to bring her thighs closer and cover her exposed vagina. Her gorgeous breasts bounced as she struggled against her restraints. Her lovely mature middle-aged body glistened with sweat against the humidity in the dungeon. I had left her like that, completely naked and tied up, for about thirty minutes as I attended to other business. But now, she had my complete attention. It was 6 p.m. on a Friday evening, and I knew that an interesting weekend was about to begin.
I stopped about a foot away from her. I knew that her eyes were straining from behind the blindfold, trying desperately to see what instrument of torture I might be holding in my hand. I had none, but the shelves living the walls behind her and to the side contained a wide variety of them, some of which she had experienced before, and others that she had not.
I reached forward and stroked the underside of her soft double-chin. She gasped at the touch and swallowed nervously. I tilted her head upward and planted a firm kiss on her lips. She whimpered softly, but her lips remained still. I pulled my hand back and slapped her hard on the cheek. She gasped and drew in her breath sharply.
“Won’t you kiss me back, Rita?”
She swallowed again, and nodded nervously in agreement. Her moist lips puckered for a kiss, and when mine met hers, I felt her tongue press against mine. We explored each other for a while, and when our lips parted, I drew my hand back and slapped her hard once more on the cheek. She shrieked and shuddered in disbelief.
“Did I say you could use your tongue like that?”
She stared at me in silence from behind the blindfold, her breasts heaving as she breathed heavily. I could tell that she was trying hard to gage my mood. My practiced hand moved swiftly once more, and her face flicked to the side as a backhand slap landed on her other cheek, eliciting a frustrated yelp.
“Answer the question!”
“No, Master,” her voice was almost a whisper, “I’m sorry. I overstepped the mark.”
“I hope you realize that there will be extra punishment for that infraction.”
A moment of shocked silence, after which her throat muscles moved as she swallowed. Her voice came in an even softer whisper, “Yes, Master.”
I traced my fingers along the contours of her breasts and took one in each hand. She gasped and threw her head backward as she was reminded of the full extent of her vulnerability. Her breasts were soft, and I knew from previous experience that they were sensitive – extremely sensitive. They were not as firm as they once were, but they hadn’t reached the stage where they could be called saggy either. She had lovely well-formed brown areolas, and firm dark-brown nipples that perked up as my thumbs tickled them. I pinched and twisted them with my fingers. She shrieked and instinctively tried to pull back. I tugged at her nipples until she surrendered and came back to place.
Still twiddling her nipples in between my fingers, I looked around at the shelves trying to decide how to start. My eyes wandered to the rack on the right, and the decision was made. I walked over to it, and she whimpered, knowing that I would be back with something or the other to torture her with.
The clover clamps that I returned with elicited different responses from different women. Rosalynn, my Hispanic cleaning lady, could take them for hours at a time with seemingly no problem. But I knew that for Rita, those same clamps would take her very close to the edge.
The clamps were a pair joined by a chain. I parted the jaws and held them close to her nipples. Poor Rita did not even have a clue what she was about to experience. I felt my manhood stiffen.
“Count back from three, Rita.”
She stiffened her body, and began. “Three…two…one….Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!”
Her body jolted backwards as if it had been zapped with electricity. Her arms and legs strained violently against her restraints, her head was thrown back in pain, her breasts bounced wildly. I held her torso in place. Her muscles were stiff, the pain shot through her sensitive nipples through her still bouncing breasts. Her initial shriek of pain gave way to a series of whimpers and moans and she tried to cope with the sting of the clamps. I grabbed the chain and pulled her breasts upwards by her nipples. She yelped and rose up on tip toe to try and take up the strain.
“Aren’t you supposed to say something?”
“Th- thank you, Master!” she squealed.
I let go of my hold on the chain, and she screamed again as her clamped breasts came bouncing down.
“Do your nipples hurt, Rita?”
“Yes Master!”
“How much do they hurt?”
“A lot, Master!”
“Would you like me to take them off, Rita?”
“But you’ve been a bad girl, right Rita?”
“Yes Master!”
“But that means I should leave them on to punish you, right?”
Confused silence. I scratched the tips of her nipples with my fingernails. The clamps had already made those hyper-sensitive, and she shrieked at the slightest touch.
“That’s the second time you’ve remained silent when I’ve asked you a question, Rita.”
“Sorry, Master.”
“What is your answer?”
“I have been a naughty girl, Master.”
“I’ll leave them on then.” I said, and turned to leave.
“No Master! Please!”
“So I should take them off?”
“Yes Master. Please?”
“Are you sure, Rita?”
“Yes, Master. Please.”
“Alright… you asked for it.” I grabbed the chain and yanked hard, snapping the clamps off her nipples. She was caught completely off-guard and for a moment, showed no reaction. Then as a second round of pain seared through her breasts, her body threw itself into violent contortions, and her pitched scream reverberated through the walls of the dungeon.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!! Aaaaaaahhhh!!!! Oh God!!!!!”
I put my arms around her waist and began to suck at her nipples. The sensation now was overwhelming for her, and her body vibrated uncontrollably. I prodded at each nipple and areola with my tongue and twisted them with my lips. I could feel her come closer and closer to the inevitable nipple-orgasm.
“Oh Master! Oh Master!... Ahhh!!! Aaaahhh!!! Oooohhh!!!! Master!! Oh Master! May I cum please, Master?”
“If you do, I’ll put those clamps back on and leave you hanging like this the whole night. You want that?”
“No Master! But please! Please may I cum?”
I released her tits and gave her a sharp kiss on the lips.
“No, not yet. It’s not time yet”, I said, as she regained her breath and the waves of her denied orgasm died down.
I reached down and undid her ankle restraints, and then reached up and freed her wrists. I stepped back and motioned to her to approach me. Slowly, a little unsure on her feet, she did so. I put my arms around her in a warm, tender hug. She gasped as her nipples stung back at her as her breasts pressed against me. I stroked her cheek and brushed back her hair, and gave her a tender, reassuring kiss on the lips. She looked up at me with her big eyes. The look in them was one of love and total submission.
“Come on upstairs, Rita. I’ve arranged a candlelight dinner for us.”
She looked up at me with a look of surprise and disbelief on her face. “Master?”
“A candlelight dinner. Can’t a Master invite his slave to dinner if he pleases?”
“Yes, Master. He can. Thank you Master.”
I motioned for her to put on a white bathrobe that was in the corner, and led her up the stairs. I felt her palm press against mine, and heard a soft whisper.
“Master?”
“Yes, Rita?”
“I love you, Master.”
“I love you too, Rita.”
(Stay tuned for the next chapter, Chapter 2: A Candlelight Dinner with Rita, coming soon.)
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