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Chapter Six:
I woke up, my eyes drifting to the clock on the wall. Seven o’ clock. I wanted to get to the BDSM store right after they opened, which meant that we needed to get a move on. I looked to my side at Aunt Rita. She was lying on her back, sleeping peacefully, her hands over her stomach, her beautiful breasts heaving as she breathed. Her nipples, after all the attention they had received at night and during the evening, were happily flaccid. I leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Come on, Rita. Wake up. We have to go soon.”
She moaned, turned her head towards me and smiled.
“Come on. Up. I’m going to the bathroom. When I come out, I want to see you on your feet.
When I did indeed come back, I found her lying on her back, this time with her hands behind her head, and both her nipples stood forth proudly from their areolas. I smiled, understanding what had happened. I went and sat down next to her on the bed.
“So, my Aunt Rita is in need of some nipple stimulation to get up in the morning, eh?”
She giggled, and nodded, her eyes still shut.
I took her nipples in between my fingers and began to roll them around. She moaned and breathed in sharply. Her hands moved from behind her head, and she slid the pillow from under her head to under her back, making her breasts stand out even more. She moved her hands back, not behind her head, but straight back to grasp the bedrails, an indication that she wanted more forceful stimulation.
I pinched her nipples with my fingers. She shrieked in ecstasy.
“Come on, you naughty old girl. Get up. Up.”
She thrashed her head in refusal. I began to flick her nipples hard with my fingernails.
“Aaahhhh…” she yelled.
“Come on. Up!”
She still refused. I grabbed her nipples and twisted them as far as they would go. She arched her back off the bed trying to ease the pain. I held the pressure on her nipples.
“Willing to get up now, Rita?” I asked.
She bit her lower lip and shook her head, this time to say yes.
I released my hold on her nipples, and as she gasped at the easing of the sensation, I helped her to a sitting position on the bed. She yawned and breathed in deeply, and I brushed her breasts lightly with the palm of my hand, eliciting another moan of pleasure as my fingers gently caressed her rudely awakened nipples.
“Come on. Go to the bathroom. Get ready.”
“Can I put my panties on?”
“No. Not until we’re done with breakfast.”
Rita went into the bathroom, while I prepared a quick breakfast for us before we left. I sat down at the table, and shortly thereafter, Rita walked into the room, stark naked, her face fresh from the water she had splashed onto it.
I gestured to her to come and sit on my lap. She giggled, and then walked over and sat down gingerly. I draped my arms around her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Casually, I picked up a knife from the table and brought it close to her body. She shuddered and recoiled, and had I not had my other hand around her back, she might have fallen off my lap.
“Wh-what are you doing with that knife?”
“You made it clear a couple of minutes ago that you wanted some strong nipple stimulation.”
“Yes, Master, but with your fingers…”
“You see, that’s one of the advantages of being the Master. I get to choose the instruments that I use to give pleasure to my slaves.”
She whined as I brought the knife close to her breasts, and her body broke into goosebumps as I stroked them with the flat of the knife.
“Are you scared, Rita?” I asked, poking her right areola with the tip of the knife. She gasped.
“Ow! Yes, Master.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve got a knife and you’re poking my breasts with it. Ow!”. Her other areola felt the prick.
I began to flick her left nipple with the blade of the knife. She stiffened and gasped, her eyes filled with fright.
“Master, please…I’m so scared.”
“Scared of what? Me?”
“Scared, because I’ve never had a knife run over my (gasp) Aaah!!! Aaahhh!!!! Master!!”
She sat on my lap trembling as I held the knife to her breast, its sharp tip probing ever so ominously onto the tip of her nipple.
“Are you scared of me?”
“No, Master. I love you. I trust you.”
“Good. Let me test your trust.”
I began to slide the knife down her stomach, tracing a circle around her belly-button. She whimpered as she felt it move below her navel.
“Master…” she moaned.
I moved the tip of the knife to a point just above her clitoris. She sat totally rigid on my lap, afraid to move a muscle. I touched the tip of the knife to her clitoris. She sat petrified, afraid to even tremble, her eyes looking straight into mine. I probed slightly with the tip of the knife. Aunt Rita gasped. A younger or less experienced woman would have let go right then, but orgasm control was one of the first things I had taught Rita, and by clenching the proper muscles, she held on.
“Ah, I see you’re applying the lessons I taught you. Let’s see how well you learnt them.”
I slid the knife menacingly over her clitoris, probing it at just the right spots.
“AaaahhhH!!!! Master, please. I can’t hold on much longer.”
“You’d better not let go Rita. If you spoil my pants, I’ll be very angry.”
With the threat pressed home, I slid the knife across her vagina lips. She was trembling now, and I knew that she meant it when she said she couldn’t hold on much longer. Fortunately, I knew better than she did just how long she could hold on, and when it was almost time, I helped her hop off my lap and onto her feet. There she came in a torrent of fluids, moaning as the waves of pleasure rushed through her body. I beckoned to her to approach me, and when she did, I rewarded her with a kiss to the nipple I had tormented with the knife.
“Go on. Take a quick shower and then get dressed. We want to get there nice and early.”
She was ready in just over fifteen minutes. She wore blue jeans and a loose-fitting white top. She smiled at me as she emerged from her room to put on her shoes. I gave her a peck on the cheek and a slap on the rump and led her out of the house to my car.
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