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I watched myself strain against the bonds to no avail. I couldn’t move my thighs a single degree closer together to cover my private parts, and I couldn’t move my pelvis an inch. Mercifully, she didn’t start with my exposed genitals. She left me lying there, the warm air brushing my skin, and went to get something. Restrained as I was, I couldn’t turn very far to see her. She came back to the satin bed with a set of two small plastic cups connected to flexible tubes.
She generously licked my left nipple and areola, coating them in her mouth’s wetness, and set the cup upside down on my small breast. Looking into my eyes as she moved to the other breast, she repeated the process with my right nipple. The tubes leading from them she then connected to something under the nightstand I couldn’t see. I heard a low humming sound, and the soft rubber edges of the cups pressed into my breasts as the cups began sucking my nipples. The device under the nightstand must have been a breast pump. We had been experimenting with making me lactate, by various hormones and massage techniques.
