Tied Up Breast Novels & Stories

Her name on my tongue was not a request which she deciphered correctly. Her hands came up and rounded to her back. The position put her breasts on display, straining against the bra as they were. When she unhooked the bra, she hesitated for a moment then holding the straps in her fingers she slid it off, leaving her berry bink nipples bare to my hungry gaze.

Or maybe he did, and took them all out to torment me after he found out about the whole plan. I undressed slowly, feeling raw and exposed as I peeled k Rhea's gown. It slid to the floor in a soft whisper. I stood in front of the mirror in my slip, staring at the reflection of a woman I barely recognized. The corset had left red makes on my back like I had thought. I rubber my hands against it, and it hurts like hell. I stared at myself again at the mirror.

"It wasn't supposed to go on this long." I don't answer. I just keep teasing her. What an erotic sight she is tied to the bed with her arms stretched over her head, and her legs spread wide apart. Pulling her arms up makes her small, white mounds look almost flat against her chest. Her normally pink nipples are bright red, little knots from being pinched and bitten.

He placed a hand on my chest and when he pinched my breast, I jumped away from him. “What is that?” He asked. “I am sorry. I have been having pains in my breast for days now,” I said and he frowned. “I think it is maturity,” Delvin said. “Maturity?” I asked confused. “Yes. It is common among females, but some males also have the experience. Don't worry we will go to the camp clinic when we get back. It is nothing to be worried about. It just means that I will have to keep my hands off your chest,” Delvin said then winked at me.

The pose stretched her t-shirt taut over her small breasts, her nipples hard. She wasn't wearing a bra.

We lay tangled in his sheets for only a few minutes before the ache in my breasts returned, fuller and heavier than before. The orgasms had stimulated my milk production, and now both tits felt swollen to the point of pain—tight, hot, and leaking steadily onto his chest where I rested against him.

I was having a problem breathing. My hands shook badly. I wanted to hold my breasts and squeeze them but I was afraid of what would happen if take that step. What if I don't survive it? My hands moved, hesitating every movement they made till they touched my breasts. The feeling made my head spin. I squeezed and a sound escaped from my core that was most definitely not from me. I massaged both breasts, an action that sent tingles running through my whole body and rested inside the sole of my feet.

I'm just frustrated I spent so long tying it back into a smooth, professional ponytail this morning. Once my breasts have started to cool, I reach over and grab some paper towels. I gently pat down my neck. After a moment's hesitation, I shove my hand down my shirt and try to mop up the rest of my boob sweat, too. And the swamps that have formed under my armpits.

What could be better? A weight pressed down on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. My eyes felt incredibly thick and heavy, and it took all I have to force them open. When I looked down, I found a leather strap across my chest, anchoring me to the cool, metal table beneath me. My whole body was tied down, unable to move. I tried to struggle, but my limbs felt like dead weight, and every movement was like trying to swink through molasses.

I sit upright again and reach both hands down, gripping the thin fabric of her top, right in the middle of her chest between her breasts. I pull apart savagely. RRIIIPP! It’s so satisfying, such a delicate material to tear apart. Her breasts pop out, jiggling slightly from the ripping motion. Her top is left hanging wide open, torn straight down the center. Only the very top and very bottom left intact, leaving her looking ravaged.