{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"41fccee1-85b1-4226-b4ae-40853c63d4e7","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2024-08-10T13:36:18.416Z","title":"Love Is Like A Nipple Clamp","slug":"love-is-like-a-nipple-clamp","shortId":"BbyJ62nl","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A less than equitable lesbian BDSM relationship.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"bbe1dda8-a9f4-4a4e-86da-0aa240356868","title":null,"summary":"\nLove Is Like A Nipple Clamp\n\n\nI would die for her. I would\nburn for her. I would crawl for her. I w","wordCount":2403,"readTime":12,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

\nLove Is Like A Nipple Clamp

\n\n

\nI would die for her. I would\nburn for her. I would crawl for her. I would kill for her. I would\nfreeze for her. I would be tortured for her.

\n\tAnd I am.

\n
\n\n

\nMy hands are raised behind my\nback, almost like a strappado, and chained to a hook in the ceiling.\nMy shoulders ache, because I have been like this for hors, while\nShappi my lover watches TV, only occasionally glancing across at my\nnaked body. I can only relieve a bit of the pain by going en pointe,\ngoing up on the very tips of my toes. But I have not done any ballet\nsince I was at school, and I cannot hold the position. \n

\n\tMy large, full breasts are\nhanging down in front of me, because of the position in which I am\nin. My lover has attached clamps to the tips of my nipples. The\nclamps are the sort where, the more that you pull them, the tighter\nthey become. There are two pound weights hanging from each clamp,\npulling down my tortured nipples.

\n\t“Please…” I gasp.\nShappi gets up and walks over to me, looking into my eyes with her\ndeep, dark ones, full of love and cruelty. I melt. I love her more\nthan life itself. Nothing that she can do is wrong. I would suffer\nany torture for my Iranian lover. \n

\n\t“Please do you want me to\nincrease the weights?” she asks. I cannot gainsay her.

\n\t“Yes…” I gasp. She\ngrants me my request, placing another pound weight on each nipple. I\nstifle a scream. I am not allowed to scream, no matter what she does\nto me. I must suffer in silence.

\n\tLater, after she lets me\ndown, I lie on my back as she mounts my face, her pussy – her wiry\nblack hair trimmed to a strip – over my mouth. I adore her pussy,\nbringing her to two orgasms in a row. I am allowed to finger my\nshaven cunt to an orgasm myself, which I thank her for. My cunt is\nshaven because I am her slave. Shappi says that all slaves must have\nshaven cunts. And what I have is a cunt. What she has is a pussy.

\n\tI have to bring her to two\norgasms before I am granted one of my own. She says that she is being\ngracious to allow any orgasms at all, and that many slaves never get\nto cum. She says that, if she keeps me on as her sex slave, that I\nwill have to give her an increasing number of orgasms, with the\npassage of time, before I am allowed one myself: three, then four,\nthen five, and so on. It is just that I should bring her pleasure, a\nlot of pleasure, before having an orgasm myself. \n

\n\t

\nIt is only my weakness that\nmeans that I get so desperate to cum. I would like to bring her to a\nthousand orgasms before cumming myself. But thoughts of her arouse me\nso much. She is the sexiest woman I have ever met. She is twelve\nyears older than me: a wonderful thirty opposed to my eighteen. \n

\n\tI think of her when I am on\nthe bus to and from college. Thinking of her turns me on. I wish that\nI could put my hands down my tight trousers and frig my sopping cunt.\nI think of her when I am in classes. I think of her beautiful body\nstretched out on the bed, and my mouth affixed to her pussy, bringing\nher pleasure. I never want to remove my mouth from her luscious\npussy. Her pussy tastes so much better than mine.

\n
\n\n

\nSometimes, when she sits on my\nface, she teases me with a large pair of scissors, telling me that in\nmany countries girls have their clits snipped off. I think that FGM\nturns her on, the idea of girls who never get to cum. She will sit\nthere, on my face, my tongue inside her sopping pussy, and slide the\ncold metal of the scissors over my nipples, the cold metal making\nthem go erect. She will open the scissors, and trap my nipple between\nthe blades, teasing me that she is going to snip my nipple off. But\nshe never does. Once, though, I noticed the smallest of cuts on my\nright nipple, where she closed the blades a little too much. I had to\nmasturbate to orgasm when I saw that.

\n\tShe will fuck me with the\nscissors, sliding them inside my cunt. She likes to see me cum with\nthe scissors inside me.

\n
\n\n

\nShe keeps teasing me that she\nwould like to see me suck off a dog – and a big one, like a Great\nDane or an Irish Wolfhound. Something with a nasty, big cock. It is\nthe only time that she ever talks of cocks. But she is only saying\nthat to humiliate me, to reduce me to being nothing but a bitch. I\nknow that dogs are not allowed in our apartment. But it has inspired\ndark fantasies in me, of Shappi holding a Great Dane’s leash, while\nI crawl on my belly underneath it, my mouth around its massive cock,\ndeep throating it until its cum slides down my throat. Every time\nthat I go for a walk in the park, and I see a dog like a Great Dane,\nI cannot help thinking about it; I cannot help getting aroused, in a\nPavlovian response. It has got so bad that I have stopped going for\nwalks in the local park. \n

\n
\n\n

\nShappi has even bough a leash:\na dog chain, the sort that throttles if it is pulled on. I didn’t\nthink that they sold them any more. She tells me that I am her bitch.\n\n

\n\tShe has started chaining me\non my toes, with the choke chain around my neck, drawn tight to the\nhook in the ceiling. Sometimes I have to stand for hours like that,\nthe chain tight around my throat. Occasionally she goes out to the\ncorner store, leaving me like that, and that is scary. \n

\n\t“Still alive, then?” is\nwhat she says, when she comes back, and she laughs with her wonderful\nmusical laugh, as though it is funny.

\n
\n\n

\nI never wear clothes in the\napartment. I am only allowed to put them on when I go to college in\nthe morning, and I have to take them off as soon as I get back,\nwhether I am in the apartment or not. She supervises what clothing I\nam allowed to wear. She likes me to look sexy at all times. So she\nhas thrown away all of my underwear. I have a lot of short skirts and\ntight tops, but nothing which will get me arrested. I am only allowed\nto wear jeans or leggings if the weather is cold, and she has\nselected jeans which are a size too small, so that I get a camel toe\nwhile wearing them, which she says is very sexy. I found it\nhumiliating, at first, to go out like that. But now I am happy to do\nso, as I know it pleases her.

\n\tIf I could I would never wear\nclothes again. I like being nude around the apartment, even when my\nlover is fully clothed. I am even nude on the rare occasions when\nShappi has friends over, other women who I suspect may be dominant\nlesbians. None of them are Iranian. Shappi tells them that I am her\nsex slave. She makes me serve pastries or tea. The women get to\nhandle my naked body, putting fingers inside me, or twisting my\nnipples. But I don’t think Shappi would ever loan me out. She\nsimply is too jealous for anything like that.

\n\tI am not allowed to tell\nanybody about my life with Shappi. I am not allowed to go out with\nher. Shappi tells me that it is because of her parents back in\nIsfahan in Iran. They don’t know that she is a lesbian, and she\nwants to keep it that way. I can understand that. My parents don’t\nknow that I am a lesbian, either.

\n
\n\n

\nShappi likes me to be her\nfootstool while she is watching television. I have to kneel down in\nfront of the couch so that she can rest her high-heeled shoes on my\nnaked back. Often she puts a clamp on my clit. This is a screw clamp\nwith two wooden bars joined by two screws which can be tightened. She\npushes it down to the base of my clit then tightens it until it is\nuncomfortable, so that I am always aware that I am wearing it. It\npleases her for me to be in pain; and it pleases me to please her.

\n\tShe hurts me, not because I\nhave been bad, but because it turns her on to see my body in pin. She\nsays that it makes her hot to see me cry, or my face to wrinkle in\npain. It turns her on to hear me gasp in pain, or to stifle a scream.\nOften she will sit on my face as she tortures me, so that I can make\nher cum while I am in pain. She cums a lot quicker when she is\nhurting me than when she is not.

\n\tShe has a riding crop. She –\nwhen sitting on my face – likes to flick it at my breasts. Because\nof the angle and distance she can’t really hurt them too much. I\nlove to feel the tattoo of the crop’s tassel on my milky-white\nbreast flesh. It turns me on. \n

\n\tSometimes she will tell me to\nhold my cuntlips apart. It has to be me, because she doesn’t want\nto hurt her fingers. She has beautiful, long red nails. So I hold\nmyself open, so that she can crop my widespread cunt. Those blows are\na lot harder than the ones on my breasts. But I can take it, because\nI lover her, and would suffer anything for her. I am happy for her to\nredden my cuntlips and bruise them.

\n\tSometimes she will just use\nher nails. They are very sharp. She likes to maul my large breasts,\nleaving deep red marks on the flesh. She digs her nails into my\nnipples. I am always scared that she will sever them, she pinches so\nhard. But, of course, she never does. It is worse when she leans\nforward to use her nails on my cuntlips, digging into the soft inner\nlips. I know that it will always end by her pinching my clit. That\nalways leaves marks on my sensitive nubbin. She uses her nails on my\nclit as she is cumming herself – her clit in orgasm, while mine is\nin agony. and isn’t that the way that things are supposed to be?

\n\tOccasionally she will use\nneedles to pierce my breasts and cunt mound. That was really scary\nthe fist time. But I have got used to it. She has not yet stuck a\nneedle into my clit. I suspect that is still to cum. I suspect that,\nwhen she does that, that I WILL cum, just from the pain. With each\npain session I crave the torture a little more. I could not live\nwithout it.

\n\tOn three occasions she has\nused cigarettes to burn me. She is trying to give up smoking, and\nonly smokes after a day when she has been stressed out at work. As\nsmoking is not allowed in the building we have to turn off the smoke\nalarm during those sessions. Shappi sits on my face, and smokes a\nleisurely cigarette. In between drags she likes to draw the ember\nlightly over my body, singing what area takes her interest: my\nbellybutton, my breasts, my cunt mound, even my cunt lips. She will\nscatter her ash on my body, using me as her ash tray. I am happy to\nserve in that manner. But when the cigarette is at an end she\nextinguishes it on my body. The first two times she crushed it out on\na nipple. That was bad, and I almost screamed. But the third time she\npulled back my clitoral hood and I feared that she was going to\nextinguish it on my erect clit. She thought better of it, though, and\nstubbed it out on my left labium.

\n\tThe pain from burning is very\nintense, and, where she stubs it out, it takes ages for the marks to\ngo away. I just wish that my flesh would heal quicker. I suspect\nthat, the next time, she will definitely extinguish the cigarette on\nmy clit, and I look forward to that day with both lust and\ntrepidation.

\n
\n\n

\nOne day, before I went off to\ncollege, she told me that I could have as many orgasms as I liked\nthat day. She got out the most powerful love balls she had been able\nto find, and forced them into my cunt. As I was not allowed to wear\nknickers she got out her sewing kit and sewed my cunt shut. I had to\ngo to college like that, wincing whenever I took a step. \n

\n\tIt was a day of pleasure and\npain. Every time I walked it seemed to pull on my sewn cuntlips.\nEvery time I was still I felt waves of pleasure wash over me. The\nthing is that my face goes very red when I cum, and I had people keep\nasking me if I was okay. I was short of breath, and I had a very red\nface. They probably thought I was ill. I hoped that they thought that\nI was ill, and not cumming. For all I knew they had guessed the\ntruth, that I was a dirty lesbian slur who liked to be tortured.

\n\tIt was a great relief when I\ngot home and Shappi removed the stitches from my poor cunt. I had to\nadmit that I had lost account of how many orgasms I had had during\nthe day. \n

\n
\n\n

\nShappi has turned me into her\ntoilet. She likes to piss in my mouth, and now, if she just needs a\npiss, will never use the toilet in our apartment. At first I was\nunsure about the warm, bitter taste. But now I need it. I would feel\nunloved if she did not piss in my mouth. \n

\n\tShappi does not like scat.\nBut, if she did, I would not balk, for I love her.

\n
\n\n

\nShappi has told me that, if\nshe ever had to go back to Iran, that she would not be able to bear\nthe thought of me with another woman. That filled me with such love\nand desire for her. She says that, if ever that day happens, that she\nwould snuff me, but that, because she loves me so much, that she\nwould make my end memorable. She says that she would cut off my clit,\nand preserve it in Lucite, so that it would last forever, and she\nwould always have something to remember me by.

\n\tThat day, when she told me\nthat she might snuff me one day – just a fantasy – she was so\nturned on that my tongue brought her off in seconds. It is clear\nthat, in the lovely cruel darkness of her mind, that the idea of\nsnuffing me turns her on.

\n
\n\n

\nI am burnt for her. I crawl\nfor her. I am cropped for her. I am pierced for her. I am tortured\nfor her. I would die for her.

\n\tAnd I suspect that one day I\nwill.

\n
\n\n

\nThe End.

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\n
\n\n

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