Kitchen Delights (2 page)

“Just remember, some of these shots might be
a little grueling, but a lot more hinges on this shoot than the
thousand bucks I’m letting Kitchen Delights pay for your services.
Your tits are props and I
fully
intend on using them to get
this account.” He looked all business. “If you have any doubt about
whether or not you’re up to it let me know now so I can get a
professional.”

His boyish grin took the professional bite
from his words, but Jeri knew her husband’s professional
perfectionism, combined with his fast-and-rough-with-the-titties
fetish, would mean she’d earn every cent of that grand. That being
a given, she rolled her nipples between her fingers, making sure he
watched them get hard at the same time she watched
him
get
hard. If he had any plans to make her suffer one way, she’d make
damned sure he suffered another.

The difference between his suffering and
hers, however, was that nothing short of stitches would keep her
from enjoying both the money and his attention. He might get to
enjoy the view and some playtime, but he was going to have to live
with a granite erection and blue balls while he did.

She shrugged out of the little robe and
tossed it aside. “Do your worst, sweetheart. Unlike your model
bimbos
…” she shimmied hard, “…there’s no
liability with
these
tits. Go for it.”

Marc’s smile was evil as he nodded at the
black seafood cracker he’d set in front of her. “You got it, love.
Let’s see what you can do to your left nipple with that, then.”

Matching his grin evil for evil, Jeri grabbed
the chrome-plated cracker and closed it around the pert, red nub.
Marc shot once and then frowned slightly. “It doesn’t close tight
enough. I need more meat between those jaws.”

Jeri slipped the cracker back a bit and
squeezed it into the thicker wrinkles of her areola. Still
dissatisfied with the results, he poked and tugged on the puckered
flesh, dragging it through the teeth of the cracker until there was
more than sufficient “meat” bulging out. He took two more shots and
then Jeri took it upon herself to improvise, twisting the
nutcracker a full ninety degrees plus, torqueing the tip of her
breast a quarter turn. Marc chuckled, snapped a picture and then
took a real close up as she twisted the bent nipple inward and
tugged it out until a constant, biting pain pulsed through her
breast.

“You sure you’re going to be able to take all
this?” Even if he feigned concern, the prominent bulge rising in
the front of his jeans told the real story.

She broke into a teasing smile as she ran a
fingertip down to her clit. “Don’t worry, dear. The girls and I can
handle whatever you’ve got in mind.”

For the next two dozen shots, Marc took her
at her word for it. A quick couple of shots of a breast stuck
through a cast iron napkin holder led into the first of several
pain-inducing slicers and a chrome apple corer. At first, he let
Jeri do all the prop work while he popped the shutter button. He
took another half a dozen shots after she centered her nipple in
the corer and pressed. The rosy wrinkles of her areola and white
flesh beyond it bulged through the pie-shaped wedges. She could
feel the semi-sharp edges start to bite, but it didn’t hurt enough
to even warrant much of a pussy rub, though she did it anyway.

Apparently wanting to engage in a bit of
sadistic entertainment, he ordered her onto her back. When she did
as she’d been told, he yanked her hands parallel to the tabletop up
over her head so he’d have unfettered access to her chest. It also
ensured she’d have no way of letting her fingers do the walking.
After quickly mounting the camera on his tripod, he took several
timed shots while he all but imbedded the apple corer into her
right tit. Though it still wasn’t terribly painful, it left
prominent pie shaped dents where her flesh squeezed through the
chrome wedges and a deeper, round impression circling the thick
wrinkles of the areola at her nipple’s base.

His hard-on the only sign he was anything
besides professional, Marc moved from the apple corer to a butter
slicer, complete with small wires designed to cut a stick of butter
into neat, one-quarter-inch pats. As he had with the corer, he let
her tease him with a few shots and then he made his mark on her
left tit with a more brutal approach. The wires were finer than the
edges of the apple corer had been. They stung wonderfully, but
didn’t quite cut.

By the time he was ready to have her toy with
a nipple with some onyx and silver chopsticks, she was getting
antsy for something more hard core. Her nipples might last hours at
the rate they were going, but the way her pussy tingled,
hours
were not something she wanted to spend.

Jeri used the chopsticks to entice her left
nipple to greater lengths, giving him just enough time for the
necessary shots before she leaned forward against the table and
plopped her tit on the white marble base of the cheese slicer that
was next on his list. When Marc was set, she took a deep breath and
slowly pressed the handle down. The cutter bit into the softer
white skin just behind her areola. The wire pressed deeper and
deeper and Marc took shot after shot, ignoring—or rather
enjoying—the appearance that the delicious red and wrinkled tip was
about to be severed from the creamy flesh. Watching the delight in
Marc’s eyes served to embolden Jeri further. She pressed harder.
The wire bent backward across the flesh, and she could feel the
circulation start to leave her nipple, but she had no problem
holding it firm. As the tip of her breast darkened, she fingered
herself with her free hand until Marc had taken his fill of
shots.

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.”