This week’s theme: implements of torture. Need more? I went with breast torture specifically…
The rope is lying across the bed like an arm akimbo: casual yet practiced; the bright red highly contrasted with the black sheets below. He picks up the coil and instructs me to lift up my arms, first tugging my dress up and off of me, next beginning to wind the red rope around me. I look down and watch as the red criss-crosses my chest and creates a beautiful support system for my sizeable breasts: decorative, elegant, and depraved. He picks up a box from the bedside table.
The box rattles, he reaches in and pulls out a long clover clamp, chain dangling into the box until another is revealed. I close my eyes and touch the tip of my tongue to my upper lip, waiting for the sharp sting of the clamp upon my nipple. Instead I feel the cool metal tracing along the roundness of my right breast, making me let out a little moan of pleasure and frustration. A second coldness on my left breast before the clamps descend at the same moment, capturing my now hardened nipple between them.
Next, a bottle of iodine comes from the box, along with a couple of cotton swabs. He gestures for me to lay on the bed, and once I do he swipes the iodine soaked cotton around each clamped nipple, tugging the chain between the clamps up as he asks me if I know what he has planned.