He did the same with my left breast, positioning my vest underneath. He continued to pull and twist my nipples. Holding my left nipple in one hand, he...used the other to slap my breast, two, three, four times. In the distance, a couple was walking towards us. I swear they could see.“Pay attention.”He reached into his pocket and pulled out nipple clamps on a chain. Tweaking my left nipple, he fastened one of the clamps. I gasped. He pulled at my right nipple, slapping my right breast. He then. I pulled out a low-cut blouse, and wondered if he'd appreciate the view in that one. That was when I realized I was planning on eating at the same restaurant again today. That was when I realized how bound up in his web I'd become.Did he do anything to deserve my confusion or my passion? Or did he just stumble over some trigger, some thing lying dormant in me that realized that something, anything had to change. Maybe he was just the most convenient target; maybe anything that set me off kilter. More

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