Surprise!

Had April's breasts been smaller, tying her nipples and her breasts at the same time would have been impossible. But, she had more than enough tit to work with. Tying them into fleshy balloons just made the thin line bite harder into her areola. Tiny slivers of dark flesh bulged between the tight loops and almost envelope the cords.

Erica tied April's breasts so tightly that it took only a few moments for the blood to go stale, making them darkened to an alarming shade of plum purple only a few shades lighter than her nipples and areolas. Almost as an afterthought, the woman grabbed the flowing tail of one of the helium-filled balloons that floated around the ceiling and tied it hard around the left nipple/areola shaft. April wasn't certain what worried her more, the fact she hardly felt anything where Erica tied it, or the increased burning sensation below the bindings when she tugged. After doing the same to the other side, Erica knotted a piece of floss around a third balloon and handed it to Barry.

"Here, tie this to her clit."

At first, April tried to struggle, not at all certain she'd be able to enjoy the same level of rough handling there that her nipples took. Erica made her think again with a vicious tug on one of the balloons that sent a spike of agony coursing through her breast. Once April settled down, Barry's fingers became as dexterous as his tongue.

Within moments, he had jerked a knot tight, choking the base of her clit with such force that April screamed – yet again – into the tape. She couldn't see it, but – even as the sharp pain faded into something much more satisfying – she knew her clitoris would soon be the same color as her nipples. She was afraid it wouldn't be long before it was equally lacking in feeling.

Still, even with strangers using her in ways even her husband never had – and with all the most sensitive parts of her body throbbing from being so brutally bound and tormented – she couldn't bring herself to be as concerned as she should. It had to be a set-up, a birthday 'gift' of some kind from her husband. They'd played rape scenes before, and they'd both greatly enjoyed his making her hurt. It was easy to see him taking it this far and then taking it to the next level by violently fucking her until her battered pussy screamed for relief.

So, instead of being as frightened as she should, she watched the balloons waft back and forth, blown around by the breeze from the ceiling fan while tugging lightly at their three moorings. She let the fading stings and dull, three-pointed throbbing mingle in her mind with the pleasure that built in her loins. She hardly noticed confetti falling across her body, or the woman that tossed it onto her.

It wasn't until sharp fingernails dug hard enough into the numb shaft of a nipple that she realized they still had feeling left in them. She opened her eyes again. Then she opened them wider. Erica held a candle just an inch above her breast. It was thin, yellow and white, striped in a spiral down its three-inch length – a typical birthday candle – a typical birthday candle lodged firmly into the top of a two-inch-long hypodermic needle as thick as a pencil lead.

For the first time since she'd been whisked from the doorway and into her private rape fantasy, April struggled in earnest. When she'd considered using needles, they were always small, not like this. Fingernails, sharp and manicured, dug cruelly into the sides of the floss-throttled nipple, holding it tight. The razor-sharp needle-tip pricked her flesh at the same time that Barry's mouth enveloped half her pussy. His tongue found a spot several inches deep inside her. April pull her breast away, but Erica only crushed her fingernails harder. Just as Barry's tongue pulled out ant up April's tender folds, Erica drove the needle down.

It wasn't the sudden, sharp pain that surprised her; it was the explosion of another orgasm. Fear or not, the needle held none of the horrible pain she'd expected. Instead, an electric shock drove straight though her nipple, crackling in a line for the same spot in her belly that her clitoris shared. And, as Erica speared the thin steel shaft to the hilt down the length of April's bound and strangled flesh, April realized that someone else knew her dreams better than she did.

By the time the throes of orgasm had faded, candles stuck up tall and straight from both her breasts' tips, moving like extensions of her nipples. Erica held the bottle to April's lips and poured. Bubbly liquid filled her mouth and splashed down her cheeks. April drank until the other woman started kissing her again.

~~~

Her head spinning, April lay on the pool table half-dozing. She was only vaguely aware of the two people that stood at her head, sipping champagne and eating more of her food. The unlit candles stood high on her cold breasts, thick needles set deep into her blood-starved nipples. Beneath red and blue cellophane-wrapping, the whites of her breasts were dark, though still not quite so much as her nipples. As much as both the full, ballooning, mounds and their choked tips craved release, she was reluctant to have them freed.

If she weren't so exhausted, if her stomach muscles and womb didn't ache from orgasmic over-exertion and her hips and shoulders didn't feel dislocated, she would have found time to care. And yet, even through the pain and numbness, there was still that thrill. All it would take was for Peter to walk in and she'd be ready for another round – one that included a callous, even violent fucking.

As if someone had read her mind, a tinny voice crackled over S.W.A.T. Man's radio. "He's coming in from the south. E.T.A. thirty seconds."

Everyone seemed to tense. Erica smiled and nodded as she picked up a thin yellow lighter. "Positions."

The sound of a car pulling into the drive made its way through the windows and vibrated in April's brain. She almost smiled. If this was a present to her, he had done an unbelievable job.

She looked at Erica woman upside-down, watching through half-lidded eyes as the yellow Bic flicked to life. Erica moved the flame toward the candle, but April stopped watching when the sound of keys rattled outside the door.

For a moment, the flame lapped across April's nipple, but the woman quickly moved it to the wick before April could feel the heat. Barry took his assigned position between April's legs, an open bottle of champagne poised in one hand. The second candle lit as the door began to open. A drop of molten yellow wax trickled onto the tip of the first nipple. Instead of the burning that should have stung her, April's numb nipple felt nothing as her husband stepped into the house.

He looked up from the brass door handle.

"Surprise!"

At least, that's what April expected them to say. Instead, Pete's eyes flew wide as the overhead light glinted off a flash of steel, and a sharp, serrated blade suddenly threatened the tight underside of her cellophane-covered left breast.

Peter stutter-stepped, apparently taken aback by what he saw. When he tried to move again, a muscular, black-clad arm wrapped around his neck from behind and yanked him backward hard enough for his feet to leave the floor.

From April's angle, the wide smile that stretched across the blonde woman's lips looked like a perverted frown. By then, the burning wax from the candles was trickling down the hard, spiraled candle in a steady stream, waking places in April's flesh that weren't quite so numb. April didn't particularly care about frowns or smiles.

Panic tried to push through her champagne buzz, the pleasure, and the pain. Three things suddenly dominated her mind—the arm that threatened to choke her shocked husband; the fact she'd come half a dozen times at the hands of a gang of home invaders; and the sudden, looming question of whether or not her breasts – or other parts of her for that matter – were going to survive the experience.

A timely burning sting reminded her that her nipples were in the most immediate peril. Unlike the soft, cooler wax she and her husband had played with in the past which stung pleasantly for a moment or two and then stopped, these candles were meant to last while kids and grandparents laughed and took their time getting around to blowing them out. It was dozens of degrees hotter and – once it had trickled past the numb parts – it burned almost as hot as the flame itself.

As the wax dribbled down over them, she knew her nipples themselves should have been burning. Now that her birthday-gift theory seemed literally burning in flames, the only thing keeping her from trying to shake the candles free was the razor-edged blade biting into her breast.

But, as much as she wanted to ignore the fingers deep inside her or the thumb pressed hard into her thread-bound clit, Barry had become quite the expert. April's horny body refused to acknowledge what her brain just figured out. Though, given the recent revelation, April was clueless as to why Barry bothered.

"Hello, Peter. Do exactly as I tell you, or I'll start slicing the 'birthday cake'."

To emphasize the threat, Erica slid the knife sideways across April's breast. It sliced easily through the Saran Wrap. April bit back a hiss when the blade stung the tight, purpling flesh beneath it.

Erica's arm tensed for another cut. "It's payback time."

Peter slowly relaxed his fingers, letting his workout bag drop to the floor. Just as slowly, he raised his hands. "Erica..." He glanced at the man between April's legs. "Barry... what..."

The look on his face chilled April. He definitely had no clue, and this definitely wasn't his game.

"What 'what?'" Erica flipped the knife around and caught it by the tip of the blade. "Games, Peter. The game you played with us. You said you were just the right accountant for us. You talked about two sets of books. But when the IRS came knocking, you took our money and let us hang."

She pushed the knife toward Peter, handle first. "I spent two months in the pen fingering myself for pleasure when the woman on the bunk above me slept. Barry spent two months trying to remember the feel of his face in my snatch and fighting his way out of trips down the Hershey Highway."

The man holding Peter shoved him forward while Erica held the knife steady. "Barry and I fucked like bunnies for a week once we finally got out of the Federal Hilton. It was the best sex I've ever had. I loved the way he attacked my tits and ass. He ate my pussy like he was starved. It took weeks for the bruises and bite marks to heal." She looked down at her breasts. Her nipples jutted out. "It was still... Two. Fucking. Months!"

Looking at it as if it were diseased, Peter took the knife. Then looked back at Erica.

She swept her arm in April's direction. "Since your horny wife was gullible enough to think this was all for her, we decided to let you be the one to get even for us – to play a little game."

She looked at April. "Sweetie, when we first visited your shyster husband, the first thing he looked at was my tits. The second he got a look at the top edges of my nipples peeking out of my tank top, he was all over telling us about how much you loved having yours played with – and by 'played with' he meant 'tortured like hell'. At least he was friendly while he was screwing us over."

She grabbed Peter by the upper arm and yanked him toward April. "Wait 'til you open your presents and see how we've decorated them. Bet you had no idea just how hard she liked it."

Throughout Erica's rant, Barry had toyed with April's clit, tugging on the balloon and thumbing the tingling nub in a slow circle while he tickled the inside of her cunt with his fingertips. Wax coated her nipples and dripped down her compressed areolas, still finding flesh that wasn't numb at all. It felt like trails of liquid fire. She could only imagine what kind of burns she'd have later.

Despite everything, her body still betrayed her as a renewed pressure began to build again. Barry's idle fingering combined with the variety of other sensations, working her toward yet another stomach-cramping climax.

"Blow out your candles, Peter, and then unwrap your gift – with the knife. Then we'll play. Oh, and don't forget to make a wish, first."

Peter moved closer to April. After a quick breath, he blew both candles out. Smoke wafted into the rotating blades of the ceiling fan as he plucked at the first candle. Only then did he realize how they'd been anchored. The needle was still stuck down the length of her garroted nipple and areola. Instead of reaching for the needle, he moved for the other candle. Erica's hand caught him around the wrist.

"The knife."

Peter looked at Erica, then back at April's breast. He moved the blade toward the second wrapped tube of breast tip and the candle stuck through it. He paused when he heard her moan. Apparently thinking she was anticipating his attention, he tapped the candle aside, knocking it off her breast.

But the moan had nothing to do with that. Instead, the brief shock of pain shooting through the deeper parts of her tied nipple combined with the real reason for the moan to drive her another step closer to the next incomprehensible orgasm.

Without waiting, Peter slipped the blade's edge between April's blue-black nipple tip and the underside of the needle crown and lifted. The needle slid slowly from April's breast, but she hardly felt it. She imagined the agony she should have felt and decided to help him by drawing her breasts down so the needle would free itself. If she didn't get the twine from around them soon, she was afraid she'd never feel them again, orgasms or not.

It wasn't long before the second needle was out. It dropped down the side of April's breast to lie in the champagne-soaked confetti at her side. It took nothing for Pete to tear the cellophane away. When he reached toward her bound areola with the tip of the blade, April held her breath.

Peter turned and watched, eyes widening again, as Barry shook a new champagne bottle and buried the neck and the front third of the bottle itself into April's cunt. The foaming liquid filled her to overflowing and spewed back out from around the bottle. Barry pulled the bottle out with a quiet, slurping pop, and grinned.

"What? I'm thirsty." His tongue stabbed into her, his mouth once again devouring her pussy.

April tried to hold still, but Barry made sure she couldn't. Peter seemed to force himself to turn away from watching what Barry was doing. His hand shook as he pressed the tip of the blade into the side of her areola. She wasn't certain what to think about the large bulge in his pants.

Closing her eyes and concentrated on the feelings between her legs, she imagined his hard cock slamming into her. She'd seen how the purpling flesh had swollen around the floss. She knew it would nearly impossible to snag the thin line without...

As sudden as an explosion, fire burned through the tip of her breast. She screamed and opened her eyes wide, expecting to see blood streaming from some deep gash. Instead, the floss had popped away in a loose spiral. Her areola, creased with livid, round, angry lines, sprung free. The balloon wafted slowly toward the ceiling.

A thin, vertical line of very dark crimson was beginning to seep from a small cut about halfway between her wrinkled areola's outer edge and her nipple. But the real source of the fiery agony had been nothing more than fresh blood filling the oxygen-starved flesh. Searing pain drove through her breast. She bucked hard and squealed. Her pussy lips slapped wetly into Barry's face, not slowing him in the slightest.

When she felt the tip of the knife dig dully into the other nipple, she braced herself. This time she was ready for the agony, and she wasn't at all surprised at the climax that rocked her when the pain lit up her breast. The orgasm seemed to last for minutes, ebbing and flowing while Barry kept at it. Finally, she collapsed, panting hoarsely, and settled back onto the table.

Erica chuckled. "What was that, Barry? Ten?"

"I think so. Maybe more. I bet Petey's never done this good."

Had she been pressed, April would have had to agree.

"Now for the game."

Erica grabbed a pool cue and quickly unscrewed the thin end from the thick one. She handed the butt of the cue to Barry, the thin, tapered end to Peter. He took it and gave up the knife without being told. After tossing the knife to the table, Erica surprised both April and Peter by grabbing him hard by the crotch, closing her fingers like claws into his penis and balls.

"I'm going to suck you off..." She let go of his genitals and yanked on his shorts. Eight inches of thick, turgid cock sprung almost straight into the air. "...while Barry bangs your wife with the fat end of that stick."

Barry grinned again and licked his lips while Erica tapped the narrow stick in Peter's hand. "You'll beat your wife's tits. Think of it as a birthday spanking with as many "to go ons" as you need. If you come first, you lose. While you and I go clean out your bank accounts the boys each have a turn fucking April and really playing rough."

Even as Erica explained the rules, the men tossed money onto the wet table and made wagers between themselves.

"But, if your perverted slut gets into having her tits beaten and Barry makes her come again, we finish our little party and you two lovebirds can go back to your vanilla bliss, finances intact – even if the Hill Twins aren't." She glanced at April's battered tits. "Now, toss your ATM card on that pile of money and let's do this."

Peter pulled a white, paper-wrapped card from his t-shirt pocket and tossed it beside the money. He stood still, looking at April's breasts as Erica yanked his pants over his feet and tossed them aside. His dick had lost none of its spring. In fact, it bounced noticeably with each pulse.

Despite the humiliation of what had happened, April's heart raced. She did feel perverted. Rather than worry about everything she should have been worrying about, she imagined what it would feel like to have Pete's cock pounding inside of her while he lashed her breasts. As much as she felt guilty for thinking it, she expected Barry's cock would work just as well.

"Ready?"

Before Peter could move, Erica grabbed him by the balls and pulled him hard toward her, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. He gasped and closed his eyes. April felt a momentary twinge of irritation, at least until Barry split her pussy lips with the butt of the cue stick and dove into her clit with his tongue and lips. Her eyes hadn't been closed a half-second when Peter's stick cracked across her right nipple and buried into her bulging, purple breast.

Agony flooded through her breast and rode like a wave through her chest. She thrashed as tears started to stream down her face.

Erica suddenly stopped attending to Peter's bouncing rod and stood up, chuckling. "Peter, you forgot to finish unwrapping your present." She caressed the tip of April's breast where the cue had left its mark. "I bet that really hurt."

Peter took the knife back and sliced through the cords that throttled April's tits. This time he was trembling. A razor cut burned the inside of her left breast, adding a thin trickle of dark crimson to the other wounds. Free from being tied, the abused mounds flowed back into their normal shape and bobbled from her heaving gasps.

In moments, they returned to a relatively normal shade of crème, though battered, bruised, lacerated and mottled with wide helpings of pink and red. Angry red rope marks circled their bases, like tattoos. The marks complemented the dark circular grooves in her hard nipples and thick, furrowed areola. Tiny droplets of blood welled from the hypodermic holes. The cuts started to trickle.