Lucas awoke the next morning, feeling refreshed and well-rested after a good night's sleep. Just like the previous session, he had enjoyed a sound slumber that left him in high spirits.
However, his positive mood took a downturn when his gaze fell upon the pair of nipple clamps resting on the bathroom basin. The memory of yesterday's sore and tender nipples after their use made him wince at the mere thought of enduring them for another day.
Yet, the allure of meeting and connecting with Master M proved too strong to resist. The prospect of seeing her, even if it meant enduring a certain level of agony, proved too enticing to resist.
Putting his usual morning gym routine on hold, he opted for an impromptu icing session for his nipples. It was a necessary prelude before subjecting them to further 'torture,' as he couldn't risk exacerbating the soreness. As he prepped for this unique day, he found amusement in his own situation. Who would have thought he'd be diligently obeying someone else's orders without a hint of complaint? Ironically, he found himself eagerly anticipating more instructions from her.
Was this a strange manifestation of affection? Or perhaps he was just a willing participant in a touch of masochism?
With his nipples now sufficiently numbed, he affixed the clamps, though this time he adjusted the screws to the lowest setting. He couldn't afford any mishaps, especially not at work. Though the clamps were secured loosely, the slight pinch still straddled the line between uncomfortable and unbearable, especially given his already sore state.
He snapped a photo of his nipples and sent it to Master through the app. His intention was clear – he wanted to demonstrate his unwavering adherence to her instructions, hoping it might sway her into considering a real-life meeting.
—
Meanwhile, as Milane readied herself for work, a familiar app notification lit up her screen.
Opening it, she was met with a seemingly simple photo – a shot of Lu's upper body draped in a bathrobe, with one nipple daringly exposed and snugly secured by a pair of nipple clamps. Yet, there was an unmistakable detail that caught her eye: his nipples appeared swollen, a clear indication of the discomfort he was enduring.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she observed the image. "Well, well, what an obedient slave," she mused aloud. "Enduring the pain just to follow my orders to the letter."
She found herself studying the image for more than a moment, admiring his loyalty and dedication. A mischievous idea formed in her mind, a way to reward her obedient Lu.
Gazing at her own reflection in the mirror, a mischievous idea took root in her mind. Her outfit for the day was a standard buttoned blouse, boasting a total of eight buttons. A devilish grin spread across her face as she schemed. The plan was simple: she would take a series of progressively tantalizing photos, each featuring an additional unbuttoned button. If Lu responded with a set of eight photos, she promised herself that the final shot she would send him would reveal all.
Her chuckles grew louder as she imagined the easily aroused Lu being taken aback by the escalating allure of the images.
With her blouse securely fastened, she snapped the first photo. Yet, upon reviewing the image, she decided it lacked the sensuous allure she was aiming for. With a decisive choice, she discarded her bra and repeated the photo session.
"Perfect~!" she murmured to herself, admiring the results on her phone. "Even I, as a woman, find myself getting rather... worked up by these photos. I can only imagine poor Lu's reaction. Hahaha!"
Content with her plan, she sent Lucas the first photo – the one where all the buttons were neatly fastened. With a mischievous smile and the thrill of her little game, she headed off to work, wondering how her 'obedient slave' would react.
—
Lucas on his way to his office tower, cocooned within the comfort of his chauffeur-driven car.
A soft "buzz" resonated, breaking the tranquil ambiance. An air of anticipation settled around him as he unlocked his phone, discovering a new message from none other than Master M. His heart raced – would it be a fresh set of orders or perhaps a cascade of compliments?
With bated breath, he tapped on the message, the corners of his lips curling into an expectant smile. Yet, as the image loaded, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief, and an intense flush of crimson heat spread across his cheeks, igniting a fiery blush.
Before him was a photograph that left him utterly stunned – Master M's upper body, adorned in a pristine white buttoned blouse. But that wasn't all; the faint outline of her delicate pink nipples was tantalizingly visible, teasing his senses in an electrifying display.
His reaction was immediate, undeniable, and entirely inconvenient – a traitorous erection surged forth, nudging uncomfortably against his clothing. Swiftly and surreptitiously, he adjusted himself to ease the sudden, arousing discomfort, taking a deep breath to steady his racing pulse before promptly saving the image onto his phone.
Gathering his composure, he dared to shift his attention to the accompanying message, his pulse dancing like a drumbeat in his ears.
"Send me a photo of those poor nipples every hour," the message commanded, "and I'll reciprocate with a snapshot featuring one less button."
Lucas looked back at the photo, he counted the buttons on her blouse. 8 of them. That means, she would unbutton everything after 8 photos?
F**k!
Lucas's mind reeled as he scrutinized the image again, counting the buttons on her blouse – all eight of them. An immediate realization dawned on him, setting his pulse racing anew: after eight photos, her attire would be, quite literally, unbuttoned to the fullest.
"F**k," he muttered under his breath, his mind racing ahead to the provocative imagery that awaited him. His imagination ran wild, conjuring up vivid scenarios of each button's undoing, one by one.
A surge of sensation coursed through him, the anticipation and arousal intertwining in a tumultuous dance. His already-engorged penis throbbed with newfound intensity, the pressure from the nipple clamps adding to the dizzying whirlwind of sensations. He bit down on his lip, stifling any involuntary sounds that threatened to escape him – the desire to caress his overstimulated flesh at odds with the reality of his surroundings.
Lucas bit down on his lower lip with a fervor, channeling every ounce of willpower he could muster. His hands twitched, aching to alleviate the throbbing tension in his nipples or his swelling arousal, but decorum and circumstance held him back. With a discreet maneuver, he crossed his legs and grabbed a document from the seat beside him, using it as a makeshift shield.
Yet, no piece of paper could deter the vivid mental landscape that continued to play out before him – a shirt becoming progressively undone, a button at a time. And with each passing minute, it seemed his resolve to remain composed was coming undone just like those imaginary buttons.
—
As Milane entered the grand expanse of the office tower lobby, the familiar face of Lucy, the front desk attendant, caught her attention. With a conspiratorial smile, Lucy beckoned her over.
"Hey Milane! Something's up with Mr. Leedon today," Lucy whispered, her eyes alight with intrigue.
"Oh really? What's going on? Is he even more demanding or exceptionally moody?" Milane inquired, her curiosity piqued.
Lucy shook her head, a bemused expression on her face. "Nah, it's not that. He just seems... off. Kind of sickly, you know? And I just don't get these wealthy folks. They've got all the money in the world, but still, they drag themselves to work when they're clearly not well. I mean, no amount of cash is going to add years to their life."
Milane raised an eyebrow in response. "Does he really look that unwell?"
"Picture this – it's summer, right? And he's here in a full suit with a vest underneath. Can you believe it? It's practically a sauna out there! Why on earth would he pile on so many layers? And that's not all – he was walking all weird, and his face was as red as a tomato," Lucy recounted with an incredulous shake of her head. "I'd say he's either caught a nasty cold or he's en route to a heatstroke."
Milane couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity of it all. "That's absolutely insane! It's like 37 degrees Celsius out there! If I had the choice, I'd be strutting around in a breezy sundress, not stuck in this stuffy blouse."
Lucy laughed heartily. "Exactly my point! That's why I thought I'd give you a heads-up. Who knows, he might be delirious from heatstroke and decide to take it out on you."
Milane grinned in appreciation. "Thanks for the warning! I'll be on my guard."