Moving from one wired contraption to another, Jeri was next subjected to a large white egg slicer, replete with several wires instead of just the one. At first, she tried to shove her nipple into the multi-wired cutting device as it rested on top of the table, but she couldn’t get the angle right. While Marc adjusted the focus, she sat up straight and simply rammed the tip of her right tit into it.
The harder she pressed, the more rose-colored flesh bulged through the quarter-inch gaps between the wires. Though she had little concern that the dull wires would actually slice the elastic flesh, her nipple felt as if it was being cut into evenly spaced slices. Since she had to use both hands for this trick, she couldn’t do anything to help her ‘enjoy’ the fun, so she gritted her teeth while he took another half-dozen tormented nipple shots.
When he finally straightened, Marc gamely rubbed some of the reddened lines from her areola. “Still up to it, hon’?”
Jeri’s response was almost defiant as she batted his hand away and took up the nipple rubbing of her own accord. “Go for it, love.”
Several minutes later, she found herself holding her arms high, stretching her breasts taut. A pair of white and grey kitchen clamps, identical to the one that she’d teased him with the day before, painfully crushed both nipples. She’d taken to quick breathing to control the pain and, just when she thought she’d have to cry “uncle,” Marc decided on a new torment.
“Now, lie backward over the table”
While switching positions, Jeri noticed Marc’s eyes gleaming with something bordering on mania as he glanced over the remaining kitchen torture devices. She’d considered another playful shimmy, but, given his manic enthusiasm, decided against any more encouragement. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if a grand would pay for aftercare.
Instead, Jeri did as she was told, stealing another pussy rub when his back was turned. The clamps had turned her crushed nipples purple, a wonderfully tolerable color as long as her fingers were in play, but agonizingly painful when they weren’t. Instead of taking more pictures, Marc popped a couple of larger, chrome-blue bag clips across her areolas, squeezing the throbbing flesh and the smaller clamps out toward the tips.
Ignoring her gasping breaths, he took a couple shots and then winked at her. “OK, pinch your tits off behind the clamps and stretch it all out for me, baby.”
Jeri looked at her screaming nipples, gritted her teeth, and slid her hands up from the bases of her breasts until the first clamps wedged in the webs. Closing her fingers and squeezing, she shoved the big clamps against the small ones and pushed, watching the soft flesh stretch. It was the most painful thing yet. While Marc took shot after shot, she tried to override the discomfort by enjoying his pleasure.
She twisted the clips from side to side and rolled her nipples around the clips like a toothpaste tube. Whether or not the idea sold, she knew he’d get off on this shoot for the rest of his life. When a particularly brutal twist sent an unexpected bolt of pain straight between her legs, she decided it was time she got off, too.
Once her husband was satisfied that the clips had received enough exposure, she glided to the edge of the table. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Though Marc made no bones about watching her rear unflatten and jiggle when she slid off the table, he hardly acknowledged her leaving as he turned back to the camera’s view screen and didn’t even mention the fact she’d failed to take off the clips.
Almost glad at the lack of attention, Jeri toyed with the clamps as she bee-lined to the bathroom, tugging and twisting them until she locked the door behind her.
Her bottom was on the solid oak toilet lid almost before it was down, her toes curling in the plush, white mat. She slid two fingers three knuckles deep inside her pussy, all but crushing her clit with her thumb before the shock of the cold wood on her warm flesh wore off. She imagined herself straddling her husband. His cock thrust deep inside her, one hand teasing her clit while the other clutched a breast, working her nipple hard. She squeezed the two clamps on her left breast, where his mouth would be. The sharp pain was different from the way his teeth felt, but no less effective.
In just a couple minutes, her entire pussy tingled and clenched on her fingers. She rolled the wet pad of her thumb harder and leaned back against the smooth ceramic toilet. The moment she knew her climax was inevitable, she closed her eyes, squeezed the clamps together, twisted and pulled. Wonderful agony swallowed her nipple and shot through her breast. Her pussy exploded as she imagined Marc throbbing inside her, his warm cum jetting deep. It was his hand brutally twisting a nipple, his teeth bruising the other as he lost control.
She worked her clit frantically, rubbing her fingers up and down as fast as she could while still twisting at her breast. Just as she thought her orgasm was starting to ebb, a fold of areola caught between the clamps and a fresh wave of pleasure washed through her. It took a couple minutes more before the pleasure finally did subside, leaving the tip of her breast sore, and her clit almost equally so.
With the edge off, Jeri cleaned herself up, touched up her make-up, and headed back to Marc. After stopping in the kitchen for an ice cube, she strolled quickly past him, parked her bottom back onto the table, and lay back down. While he readied the next series of gadgets, she iced her nipples, bringing them back to ruddy attention and hoping the tight wrinkles would hide the extra marks. She also hoped they’d distract him from noticing her swollen, flushed labia, though, just in case, she pulled her thighs together to block his view of her pussy as best as she could.
Not only did he not notice the signs of her bathroom play, he didn’t even look up when she dropped the four clamps past his ear into the box. It wasn’t until he took a ridiculous-looking little decorative container of plastic kitchen ties from the box that he saw the state of her chilled and glistening nipples.
“Great idea, hon’.” Without the slightest hint that he cared, he took her left nipple hard between his fingers and pulled. “The water will look even more erotic.”
Orgasm or not, the whole situation still turned her on, and she hadn’t had nearly enough time to do much more than keep the horny at bay. His rough, businesslike approach to her breasts just made it flare back up, particularly coupled with the prominent bulge he couldn’t hide—businesslike or not.
When he brought a loose plastic tie up to the tip of her breast, he realized he couldn’t hold her nipple and pull it tight with just two hands. Jeri began to bring a hand around to assist, but he shook his head and waved her off. His solution was to bite the middle of her nipple, grinding hard enough to ensure it wouldn’t slip. She moaned, remembering the mental imagery from a few minutes before, then gasped as he pulled wickedly outward.
With pain shooting from her nipple through her breast, he looped the tie around her elongated areola and yanked. The wire cinched the tip of her breast into a tight ball. Combined with the counter pressure of his teeth, an even more intense wave of distress flared through her breast.
When Marc finally let go, the pressure of blood trying to push past the constricting tie easily outweighed any relief she felt when his teeth let up a bit. She let out another moan as he dragged his teeth from her cooling nipple and moved to the other. Once he’d tied both tips, he used her ice cube to make the bound flesh into tantalizing balls of glistening lavender wrinkles. By the time he was done, he wasn’t even trying to hide his enthusiasm, or his crotch grabbing.
“Now that’s my kind of Swedish meatballs.”
Hoping to entice him into forgetting about work for a few minutes, Jeri giggled and squeezed her breasts together, shoving the tied balls of nipple and areola up toward him. “Too bad we’re not home. We’ve got a bottle of marinara sauce in the fridge.”
The look in his eyes told her he was only half-joking when he said, “Don’t tempt me.”
Showing more willpower than she thought he had, he put the tie box at an angle between her breasts, centered between the nipple balls, and picked up the camera. After a
couple of shots, he all but threw the camera onto the table and started unbuckling his belt.
“Okay, fuck this. I can’t concentrate.”
Jeri’s heart sped up in anticipation, and not a little self-satisfaction, as he started stripping. She barely had time to spread her legs before he was naked and on top of her, his thick cock thrust up against his belly. As his fingers spread her pussy lips and his cock head pressed between them, she filled her fingers with his hair and pulled his face toward her right breast.
Giggling, secretly quite pleased she could distract him so easily, she thrust her balled nipple toward his open mouth. “There you go, baby. You can have your meatballs now. I’ll fix spaghetti later.”
He slammed his penis into her. She gasped as his mouth enveloped the tip of her right breast and his fingers pinched her left. His lips and tongue were a warm, wonderful balance to the throbbing pain; it was all a sensation she’d never felt before, and one she wanted more of. He fucked her with quick, short thrusts—the kind of fucking she knew got him off quickest. As her pussy started to tingle, she found herself wanting to feel more than just his lips and tongue.
Just as she began fantasizing about what it would be like if her breast was covered in tomato sauce, her balled nipple surrounded by spaghetti, and—most importantly—what his teeth might feel like biting into her tasty “meatball,” he tensed and groaned.
Her fantasy evaporated like a burst bubble as she worked hard to try to catch up, grinding herself against his spurting cock as hard as she could. She’d just started feeling her climax start when he finished, and the last of his come tricked inside her. She pushed her breast up at him, desperately inviting him to bite, clenching her pussy in a futile effort to hold. But he pulled out, leaving her groaning for more.
“Marc?!” She made no effort to hide the frustration in her voice.
He toweled himself off and looked knowingly at her obviously well-used pussy. “What? You already took care of yourself. You think I couldn’t tell?”
They both masturbated, and they both knew it, but they never talked about it. Mortified, Jeri felt herself blush. She thought about asking how he could tell, but thought better of it. He’d just managed to embarrass her into submission, though not enough that she lost the desire to come.
The next series of shots involved a ludicrous looking plastic wrap box. For this grouping, Jeri stretched her arms high, and Marc wrapped transparent wrap around her torso. The first layer crossed her breasts, pressing them flat. Her hard nipples threatening to poke through the thin cellophane while pressing back into her areola. The cream-colored flesh looked whiter against the wrap as it compressed them down.
Marc was all business as he wrapped several layers and then handed the fancy holder to Jeri, who held it against her chest. After a couple of shots, Marc snatched up the small scissors and went for a nipple, snagging the wrap just as it appeared he was going for something more fleshy and painful. He sliced an opening just wide enough that the pert nub of flesh poked through. Her body heat had begun to warm her torso considerably, and the cool air against the freed nipple felt wonderful.
In moments, the other one poked out and Marc went back to shooting. He seemed to enjoy that series, though, by the time it was done, Jeri all but ducked her sweaty tits in ice water. She considered calling for a longer break, with plans to take better care of herself this time.
But Marc’s boner seemed to have recovered nicely, and his “kid in a candy shop” demeanor was back, so she opted to let him keep playing while she went back to stealing the occasional fingering.
He fished a gargantuan hypodermic-looking gadget from the box. She recognized it immediately as a turkey baster, though this one was made of chrome and glass and was as expensive as hell. He moved the mammoth needle closer to the recently freed, and still pulsating, tit. As the giant needle began pressing into her areola to one side of her nipple, Marc smiled slightly. “Tell me when it gets dangerous, love. I want to know just how far to go for the timer.”
Jeri nodded silently and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the dull needle against her flesh, dealing with the pressure as it gradually changed to pain. The large needle was meant for thinner skin, and it would have taken a deliberate effort to pierce her, but she had no doubt it could happen. Regardless, even a dull needle had its limits. When she thought it was close to punching through, and the pain was almost too much to take, she clipped out a quick, “Now!”
Marc immediately stopped the baster’s downward progress and kissed Jeri on the cheek. With a hurried, “Thanks, love,” he stepped behind the camera, set the timer, pressed the shutter release, and darted back up to her. Just before the camera went off, he stabbed the great needle back into her areola.
Jeri suppressed a yelp, having no doubt that he’d jammed the cold steel further than she’d told him to, but she kept quiet and let him work. After a few shots, he made her lie back down on her back. When she did, he held the baster like an ice pick and stabbed the needle down brutally, completely ignoring anything he may have learned about her pain threshold a few minutes earlier, jabbing it deeply into her right areola as the shutter fell.
Jeri bit off a scream only long enough for him to pinch her nipple roughly and jab the baster needle in from the side. The fact that the needle hadn’t actually punctured didn’t keep it from feeling that way, and she dealt with each deep jab by squeezing her thighs together and concentrating on the pattern in the ceiling, trying her best not to screech often. By the time the series was done, she wasn’t certain which red-dotted tit was throbbing the worst.
After checking the shots to make sure they were good, Marc wrapped an arm around Jeri’s shoulder and kissed her. She was still idly rubbing her nipples after just barely pulling a hand back from her pussy before he turned.
“I tell you what, let’s take a break and ice those down for a bit, then we’ll come back and see about finishing up.”
Jeri smiled up at him, a knowing twinkle dancing in her eyes. “I know full well why you want to ice ‘em down, but it sounds good to me. Come on.” She guided him back to the kitchen and let him fend for some snacks while she grabbed a large hunk of ice. By the time he had started munching on a couple of carrot sticks, she was sliding the ice around on her nipples. The effect brought Marc up short. He gazed hungrily at her glistening, rock hard nubs and the surrounding rigid flesh.
With an emphatic, “Mph!” he nudged her hand aside and sucked a cool tip into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the bumpy contours and gnawing blithely. Jeri tousled his hair and then backed away, pulling the now warm tit from his lips with a wet pop.
“Back to work, Fido!”
After a bit of protest from her husband, they went back to the table. Marc told her to lay a breast on top of the table. “OK, love arms up, tit ready...”
Marc took a few moments to briskly rub the tip of her tit until her nipple and the ring of color around it tightened again. When he was satisfied, he pulled a fancy pair of tongs from the box. After setting the camera timer, he closed the tongs hard behind her nipple, pressing her areola until the rose-colored skin bulged through the triangle-shaped jaws. After taking a series of timed shots where he tugged and twisted with the steel tool, drawing an occasional pained wince from his model, he set the tongs aside and took a pair of corn picks from the remaining accessories.
The picks were made up of a miniature molded steel corn cob with two very wicked looking tines sticking out one end. Jeri arched an eye slightly as her husband handed her a pick. She’d wondered what she would say if he ever asked her to play with needles, but she’d never considered anything as radical as being skewered. Not sure she was ready to go that far for the cause, she snagged a nipple and stretched it out, then slid the tines above and below it.
After a few quick shots, he popped the corn pick off of her nipple, smiled with evil mischief and pointed at a rather fancy carving set, an evil looking paring knife and a modernistic looking black bagel spr
eader with a Ginsu knife that looked sharp enough to slice steel.
“Next up... The Kitchen Delight’s line of fine quality cutting instruments… now this is going to be fun.”
Jeri was dubious about her husband’s definition of “fun,” but followed his instructions to lie back across the table regardless. She watched with some curiosity, and more than some concern, while Marc took the bagel spreader and clamped his left hand on the underside of her breast, compressing it to about a third of its resting size. He slid the bagel spreader up around it, thrusting the wrinkled nipple and areola up enticingly. Try as he might, however, he couldn’t get her breast to compress enough to stay inside the spreader. The dull pain coursing through her breast as he squeezed was testament to how hard he tried.
Marc finally gave up, letting the spreader just rest on her breast, then set the camera’s timer and moved toward her with the knife. Jeri closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the table behind her head as he Ginsued straight down on the trapped tit. She winced noticeably as the Japanese blade threatened to break the tender flesh, its vicious-looking serrations biting, but, even through several more shots—and much to her amazement—her soft skin held.
Jeri next found herself leaning forward onto the table, her heavier left breast settled between the four sharpened chrome prongs of a steel roast holder on top of a translucent plastic carving board. At Marc’s command, she took the chrome-handled meat fork in her left hand and the matching carving knife in her right and slowly slid the fork down her areola as if she was slicing her breast for deli service.
The thought of a sliced Jeri-breast sandwich, or something, did it for him, because it was obviously all he could do just to take the shots without jumping her bones. After his first reaction to her ‘meatballs’ and now to the deli-slicing…she wondered if she should have been concerned about her husband having some latent cannibalistic fetish, but she was having too much fun watching his reaction—and hoping for more. Teasing him, she brought the knife down in front of the fork and pressed the laser-serrated edge into the base of the trapped bud of flesh as if she was about to slice her nipple off. He almost knocked the tripod over.
Kitchen Delights Page 2
