Page 46 of T is for…

“Thank me,” he murmured against her.

“Thank you, Nathan,” she stammered out, nipple aching.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I like that.”

Before she could ask him why he sounded so distressed at the admission, he was gone, jerking up from the stool and striding to the other side of the room, where he paused only momentarily before returning.

“Time to torture these pretty tits.” He held up a roll of black electrician’s tape, showing it to her.

It took Tara a moment to process what he’d just said. It felt like she had whiplash from the quick shift in the energy from soft and almost longing, to brusque and focused. “Tape?” she finally managed. “Is that one of the items?”

“No. I just like the look.”

Tara wasn’t actually sure what he was planning to do with the tape. In the few public BDSM clubs she’d been to, quite often, women wore Xs of electrical tape over their nipples to technically avoid being nude. Maybe he was going to cover her nipples, and just focus on the rest of her breasts.

The tape made a satisfying noise as Nathan peeled off a long piece, but he didn’t tear or cut it off.

He stuck the end of the tape against the inside of her right breast, making sure it adhered with quick presses of his fingers. Holding the tape roll with his left hand, he pinched her nipple with the right and lifted her breast. Sweet pain flared as her nipple was forced to bear the weight of her tit.

Nathan ran the tape under her breast, up the outer side, across the top, and then over the starting point, circling the base of her tit with a band of heavy black tape.

He kept going, overlapping the stretchy tape until he’d created a two-inch-wide black band that turned her breast into a tight, round ball, forced up off her chest wall.

Then he switched to the other breast, repeating the bondage.

When he was done, both breasts were lewdly on display. Round, firm, and protruding rather than the soft teardrop shape that was natural to her.

Nathan pressed the back of his hand against each breast in turn, checking the temperature. “You’ll tell me if anything starts to pinch, or you stop being able to feel what I’m doing.”

“Yes, Nathan.”

“Good girl.”

Nathan settled onto the stool and stroked and petted her breasts, while Tara wondered how he was going to use nipple clamps, given that the bondage had caused her nipples to go flat.

He took her nipples between his thumbs and the knuckle of his index fingers, able to easily pinch them despite their non-erect state. Clamps weren’t going to be a problem.

He twisted her nipples, and Tara let her head fall back, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as she processed the feeling. There was a tight, stretching sensation in her breasts that was entirely new. Because her nipples weren’t hard, it also felt like he wasn’t pinching her whole nipple, which added an unsettling, incomplete feeling that had her longing for him to do more.

Touch her, hurt her, more.

The clamps would be interesting if this was how she felt just from his fingers.

But the gleaming silver toy he brought over wasn’t nipple clamps.

“Do you know what this is?” Nathan held up the item he’d retrieved as he settled back on the stool.

The small device had a long silver handle that ended in a small pizza-cutter-like wheel, but instead of a blade, the edge of the disk was metal spikes.

“Pinwheel,” she said, though she was fairly certain it had a technical name.

“This is medical grade, making it a Wartenburg wheel. Mostly used to test patients for neuropathy. The small pins allow for precision accuracy when mapping nerve damage.”

“You’re using your lecture voice, and it’s way hotter than it should be.”

Nathan grinned at her. “Glad you like it.”

He placed the wheel on the underside of her right breast then slowly rolled it up over the curve. He avoided her nipple but caught the edge of her areola.

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