(To read SDS Act I)
I never went above a five.
Five as in effort or intensity. If zero is simply blowing on them and ten is an honest attempt to remove Leigh’s nipples from her body I never went about five the entire time I made them the recipients of the Same Damn Spot treatment.
You couldn’t have told her that.
She was in such a state of beautiful agony. And for all the agonizing moments and lessons I learned as a result of the Torn saga I was damn sure not going to feel any guilt or remorse over the abuse her incredible sensitive nipples received. She has a safe word. She’s a smart, intelligent, sexy woman. She could have escaped this Level 5 torture any fucking time she wanted.
She didn’t, so I did as I pleased.
Lying next to Leigh on her right, I reached across her velvet skin and began to brush the areola of her left breast with feathery strokes. The way it wrinkled up and made the nipple erect was beautiful. The shadow it cast across her breast from the candle’s flickering light grew higher and higher.
All the while this was transpiring my mouth was giving its twin similar attention. Kisses disguised as shadows danced across its ever growing tip. Over and over again my lips hovered over that nipple, my hot breath like invisible rain, lips dry with intent just grazing it.
She was squirming without stop. Not frantic in any stretch of the word, but rather that steady bending of the knees before kicking one’s feet out against an imaginary force. Or how her hips twisted in small, precise efforts to not only dislodge inner tensions but also create them on the pursed lips between her thighs. Her torso started to heave and rise majestically into the night, bringing her breasts higher and higher as she made pathetic attempts to dissuade my constant, relentless and unwavering assault of pleasure on their ends.
It was the way she made sounds that really told how much this was driving her mad. Curt, short huffs of pouting segued into schoolgirl quality squeals. Her breath grew shorter as her nipples grew longer.
After a few minutes of non-stop teasing with, on my end, no real effort to inflict anything other than torment, I started to up the intensity.
My fingers began what would evolve into roughly twenty minutes of constant tweaking. Beginning with a firmer grip, I started to gently roll the nipple of her left breast between my thumb and pointed finger. Back and forth it twisted in the clutches of my twisted intentions, with an added tug or pull for no other reason than its fun as fuck to do that.
There is a specific method to the madness I hope to bring out of Leigh when I play with her nipples with my fingers. I very rarely, if ever, just grab. Typically I rest my thumb against the base of the nipple. Then, with my pointer finger, I trap it between the two. When I am confidant I can roll it back and forth the equal amount each way with the same pressure, only then do I start to play. Many times I will “release” my grip and try again. But once I’m there she is in trouble, but in the best way.
But that was child’s play compared to the oral agony its twin received.
Lips, tongue, teeth. The Holy Trinity of nipple abuse. Between them, and I do literally mean between them, there are nine different ways to tease an erect nipple. Over those twenty minutes I explored every possible combination in my efforts to make her insane with sadomasochistic pleasure.
With my lips pursed its easy to suck on them, which I did. Leigh winced in sweet pain as I drew it deeper into my mouth, yet at the same time did it ever so slowly, which based on her reaction must have been excruciating. Once trapped in there I sucked it, flicked its tip with my tongue, even used my lips to roll and tweak it in the same manner that my hand was doing to the other one.
Oh fuck was she in distress. I could smell her arousal clear as day. The bedroom filled with the unmistakably sweet aroma of a freshly dripping cunt just oozing lust. Her cries were growing more frenetic, matching her ragged breathing gasp for whimper.
Pinches from my fingers added staccato shrieks. Teeth grazing the extended length of the other throbbing, pointed tip brought outright screams with frantic body motions, making it more difficult to focus on the task at hand and mouth. Growing irritated at all the increased movement I snaked my left arm, which up until then had merely been a convenient wedge under her, up and over her own left arm. With a firm grip I secured it tight to the mattress, immobilizing her in a pseudo handcuffed position.
That got her attention, for better and worse. She was now helplessly bound and extremely thrust upward. How lovely.
It was the grating of her nipple while in the process of suckling it that prompted her final stage of madness. That drove her crazy. The sensation of that little piece of flesh ever so slowly being drug through that tight passage as the very edges of my teeth scraped its entire length is seared in my memory. The fact it turned her into a hysterical mess bordering on tears only helped.
That last paragraph pretty well sums up the last five or so minutes of Leigh’s experience with SDS. It was beautiful to feel her just quaking from having two tiny areas no larger than a dime manipulated.
I touched no other places the entire time. The whole of those twenty minutes were focused on her nipples. Nothing else.
When I stopped, she collapsed in a heaving, gasping, whimpering heap. I released my grip and replaced it with an embrace of both arms around her. Over and over I whispered to her how beautiful she was and what a good girl she had been.
Looking into her eyes, I was stunned to discover that she was…gone. She had, at some point, simply floated away on a sea of endorphins and dopamine.
Fuck! She was in subspace! From just nipple play. As she would say later “Good pain is good pain.”
Beaming with pride, I soared. Fucking flew. Topspace hit me like a runaway train.
I stroked her hair with the same hand that minutes earlier had caused her such exquisite pain. I kissed her cheek with the same lips that not long ago almost made her cry in surrender.
And the two of us just laid there and flew away into the abyss, as well as Nod, that way, oversensitive pre-menstrual vagina be damned.