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Chapter Four:
I reached inside my bag and fetched my pliers. The teeth were slightly serrated, specifically designed to pinch, but not to injure. I slowly brought the pliers into Aunt Rita’s field of vision, and as I held them above her face, she gasped.
“Oh god. What are those?”
“Pliers.”
“What – what are you going to do with those?”
“Now now, Aunt Rita. So many questions. You’re going to find out soon enough…”
I touched the pliers to her cheek and traced a line down the side of her face. She inhaled deeply, clearly apprehensive about my intentions. I caught her earlobe between the jaws of the pliers, and pressed them gently, with about the same force as a nibble.
“Ooooh!!!! Oh god!” she moaned.
I slid the pliers across her double chin. I knew from experience that it was very soft and tender. I gathered some of the flesh between the jaws and pinched it.
“Mmmm!!! Aaahhh!!!” she gasped.
“Did I ever tell you I like your double chin?” I shifted the pliers to another spot on it, and squeezed again.
“Aahhh!!!! What’s there to like about a double chin?” she asked, swallowing uncomfortably.
“Well, for one, I think it accentuates your face. It doesn’t work that way for everyone, though.”
“Well, I guess I should be glad – Aaahhhhh!!! God!” – I moved the pliers along the side of her neck and pinched a spot above her shoulder.
“Now where are those lovely warts that you had on your neck? You haven’t had them removed, have you?”
I explored her moist neck with the pliers. The warts were small, the type that wouldn’t repel you from kissing her neck, and kissing them. I found one of the more prominent ones. It was on the right side of her neck, about an inch above the shoulder blade. I parted the jaws, and slipped them around the wart. I waited for her to swallow, and then squeezed.
She shuddered on the table, and gasped violently.
“Aaaahhhh!!! God! That hurts!”
I tightened my grip slightly. She shrieked.
“Stop!! Please!! It stings like crazy! Aaaaaahhhh!!!!”
I released my grip, and massaged the tortured wart with my finger. She moaned at the touch of my finger rubbing over it.
“Oooohhhh,” she moaned, “It’s very sensitive. But I didn’t think that – Aaaiiii!!! Aaah!!!”
I had caught another small wart in between the jaws of the pliers, this one on the left side of her neck, about halfway up.
“You were saying?”
“Aaahhhhh!!!” she flinched, trying to accommodate the squeeze, “I didn’t think that-”
“That what?”
“That – oh, never mind.”
“No, I want to hear it.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Never mind.”
I tightened my grip. She stiffened immediately and then screamed.
“Aaahhhhh!!! Stop. It hurts a lot! Oh God!”
“Well, you were shy, and I thought you needed encouragement. In fact, I still think you need some more.”
“No!! No!! Please. I just didn’t think you’d squeeze my warts with your pliers.”
I released my grip, and she sighed in relief. I pressed the tip of the pliers under her double chin and thrust her head up until she looked straight at me.
“Really? Well, what part of you did you think I would squeeze then?”
She looked at me with her wide eyes, and gulped. I smiled.
“Ah! I see. You’re quite intelligent, I have to admit.” I slid the pliers down onto her chest, and then traced circular patters over her breasts. She stiffened at the sensation of metal jaws criss-crossing her tender mounds, and the skin of her breasts broke into goosebumps.
“Ooooh…” she moaned, and then caught her breath with a gasp, “Aaahhh!!!”
I pinched her left breast, about three inches above the nipple, and gently twisted the pliers.
“Oh God!!!! It hurts! Stop, please!”
I slid the pliers to the bottom of her right breast and pinched again. She stiffened and let out a scream.
“Ouch!! Hurts!”
I began to trace figures of eight over her breasts with the pliers, tantalizingly close to her areolas, but just shy of them. I could feel her anticipation building. I brought my lips close to her ears and whispered,
“Why don’t you just say it, Aunt Rita?”
“Say what?” she moaned as my stroking persisted.
“I know you want to say to me, ‘Stop pinching here and there and torture my nipples with those damn pliers.’”
She gasped and then blushed, turning her head away from me. I took her chin and coaxed her head back until she was looking at me.
“That is what you want, isn’t it? I know my Aunt Rita. She likes having her nipples tortured. I know that. It is what you want, isn’t it?”
A gentle pinch on her right areola made her bite her lower lip.
“Yes…aaahh…please torture my nipples with your pliers.”
“Good girl. Honest. I like that.” I bent down and gave her a firm kiss on the lips.
I caught one of her nipples with the pliers and squeezed gently. She stiffened and breathed in sharply. I squeezed harder and at the same time pulled the nipple upwards. Aunt Rita arched her back off the table, trying to contain the stretch.
“Oh God! Aahh!! Aahh!!”
I released her nipple and took the other one. While she squirmed every which way trying to accommodate the torment, I stroked her hair and looked down at her. She was still strikingly beautiful, and watching her fidget and squirm like that turned me on more than I could have imagined. The clock was ticking, but neither of us noticed. I used the full extent of my imagination on torturing her lovely nipples with the pliers: tugging, squeezing, twisting, pulling, pushing. I knew from experience that Aunt Rita had extremely sensitive breasts, and could be taken to orgasm simply through breast stimulation. But with a practiced hand, I kept her right on the verge of one, never pushing her over the edge. The minutes ticked by, and when I caught sight of the clock on the wall, it was a quarter to nine. Aunt Rita’s torso was covered in a fine layer of sweat, her nipples were proudly erect, her breasts breaking out into goosebumps as the pliers toyed with her nipples. With a final squeeze to each of her peaks, I put the pliers down. She looked at me, trying to figure out what was next. I brought my face close to hers, and gently placed a finger on each of her nipples. I knew that the session with the pliers had made them hyper-sensitive, and as I tickled their tips with my fingers, Aunt Rita gasped and moaned uncontrollably.
“You like this, Aunt Rita?”
“(gasp) Oh!! Oh, yes. Yes!! Aaahh!!! Yes!”
“You know what’s going to happen if I keep this up?”
She arched her back off the table.
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God!” she panted.
“And do you want that to happen?” I switched from stroking her nipple-tops with my fingers to stroking them with my fingernails.
She squealed.
“Yes! I want it! I want it so bad! Oh! I want it!”
“How badly do you want it?” I teased her, making her wait a bit longer.
“Badly! Real badly! Please! Please! Please make me cum! I can’t hold back anymore! Please!”
She was thrashing her head from side to side in ecstasy.
“Alright, Aunt Rita. You’ve been a good girl. You’ll get what you want.”
I intensified the stroking till my fingers were a blur running over her nipples. I watched in delight as her gasps became sharper, her moans louder, until finally they coalesced into one continuous shriek of orgasmic delight. I could tell from her body signs that she was on the edge, and I gave each of her nipples a firm twist to send her on her way. Aunt Rita’s sexy middle-aged body shuddered under my fingers as she experienced an intense and long orgasm. The tremors began to die down, and her sweaty torso settled back down on to the table. I leaned down and gave her another firm kiss, which she returned with gratefulness. Her breathing was heavy and contented. She had let off her load, and having watched her struggle against her nipple torment meant that I badly needed to let off mine. I unfastened her straps and hurried into the bathroom.
When I returned, I found Aunt Rita sitting on the torture table, a contented smile on her glowing face. I helped her off the table and gave her a tight hug, which she enjoyed despite the stinging sensation as her nipples pressed against my chest.
The orgasm and the session on the table had obviously made her horny, and I now found her slipping her hands under my T-shirt and stroking my chest. She made her way up to my nipples, and traced circles around them with her fingers. Her chin was on my chest, and her wide eyes looked straight into mine.
“You make me very, very happy.” she whispered.
I fondled her still erect nipples between my fingers.
“The feeling’s mutual, Aunt Rita. But you can make me happier too.”
“How?” she asked in earnest.
“It’s dinnertime. You can prepare dinner.”
“Sure. Can I put my clothes back on?”
“Of what use are clothes when we’re together?”
She giggled.
“So you want me to serve you dinner naked?”
“See what a nice aunt you are!”
I followed her into her kitchen, and watched as she selected microwavable food from her fridge. I massaged her back and shoulders as she worked, and when she had put the food into the microwave and turned it on, I embraced her from behind. I knew she liked that, and as she leaned her head back into me, I began to kiss her on the side of her neck.
“Mmmm…I can’t even remember when you did that the last time.”
“Neither can I. Did you enjoy the session?”
“I loved it.”
“Did it hurt a lot?”
“It hurt a bit. Just the right bit. For a woman, where’s pleasure without pain?”
“That’s true, Aunt Rita.”
Suddenly she whirled around and put her arms around my neck.
“You have to stop calling me Aunt Rita.”
I knew what she was getting at, but I decided to play along.
“But then what will I call you?”
“While you are here, I’m not your aunt. I’m your slave. You can call me slave Rita or simply Rita.”
“I see. And what will you call me?”
She pressed her breasts into my body.
“I will call you Master. You’re my Master. I’m your slave. I am at your command, Master.”
I could tell that that terrific orgasm had done her a lot of good. She was in a better mood than I had seen her in in a long time. The microwave beeped. Dinner was ready.
“Alright, Rita. Bring us our dinner.”
She smiled and snuggled up to me.
“Yes, Master. Right away.”
I turned to leave, but then stopped and walked back up to her and put my arms around her waist.
“Rita, put your hands on the back of your thighs and lean your head back for me.”
She looked surprised at first, but her mood was simply too good.
“Yes, Master.” she said as she threw her head back.
I waited a while, and then darted forward and landed a kiss on each of her nipples. She shuddered in surprise and gasped in pleasure. I eased her head forward. Her breathing was heavy again.
“Dinner, Rita. I’ll be waiting.”
I went over to her dining room and seated myself at the stable, waiting for my naked Aunt to serve me dinner.