Two leather cuffs encircle his wrists, and chains connect them to hooks in the ceiling. A ball gag sits between his lips, held in place by a strap that circles around his head. He looks vulnerable and beautiful; looking at him, I feel an urgent wrench of desire. I kneel in front of him, looking into his eyes. I reach out and stroke his jaw, feeling the slight roughness there, the beginnings of a beard. He leans towards my touch, and his eyes close, and then open again. His breathing is harsh and heavy in the quiet room. “Do you trust me?” I ask, smiling. He nods, and gives a small grunt. I hold out my hand, palm up. Two small metal clips, attached to each other by a thin silver chain, gleam in the dusky light. “Nipple clamps,” I say. “Do you want to try them on?” He pauses, and then nods. I gently rub his left nipple with my thumb, stimulating it, feeling it harden beneath my touch. His eyes close once more, and he turns his head slightly to the side. I take one of the clamps, position it over his nipple, and release it so that it nips the delicate flesh there, pinching it together.
