A Wicked Game You Play by Leo Bulero Page A

Exposed to the wintry breeze, her breasts felt heavier,
more sensitive, as though frosty fingers brushed them. Her cherry
nipples puckered and hardened in protest. Her aureoles drew into
tight, wrinkled circles.
    With cold-bitten fingers, Kate un-looped her
belt and eased her skin-hugging jeans halfway down her bottom. The
cold bit even harder there, so she decided to finish off up top,
removing the sweater and tossing her bra into the pile. She
followed with her jeans. Next, her panties skimmed down past her
knees.
    The sharp air bit at her naked thighs and
nipped between them as, surrounded by skeletal trees swaying in the
blustery wind, she stripped naked.
    Kate kept walking, lifting her breasts,
cupping them protectively while thinking about Robert’s e-mail.
Believing he was somewhere close by watching, she took her nipples
between her thumbs and forefingers. She squeezed the tender buds.
Kate counted the seconds as her cold fingers twisted, summoning
shards of dull pain as she pulled, harder and harder. The pain was
a welcome glow, diverting her attention from the cold. It made her
shiver as much as the temperature.
    She lifted and twisted, then let the tips of
her fingernails score the tender flesh.
    “Yes,” she groaned, increasing the
self-inflicted pain. She spread her legs and slipped one hand
between them. She fondled her sex, brushing her vulva with a quick
caress that made her clit tingle and warmed her in ways that no
cold could penetrate.
    She squatted down, but found the grass too
cold and prickly to serve as a bed. Her fingers returned to her
sex, pressing into the tight sheath of her softening pussy.
    Slowing her hand for a moment, Kate looked
around guiltily. What if someone discovered me like this; naked,
alone, playing with myself?
    Deciding it was too late to worry, she
returned to work by dragging her nails from the base of her breast
to the nipple, crushing the heavy mound in her grasp. A fresh
shiver coursed through her body. This time, it wasn’t only the cold
that caused her to quake.
    With a casual self-assurance, Kate started
stroking. She let her legs drift open to the loving caress of her
hand. Her thighs parted, as if to receive a lover, a fantasy
stranger who, having found her, forced her to debase herself,
forced her to hurt herself, and…
    Dreamily, she noticed the discarded fridge
that Robert had said would be there.
    Remembering his instructions, she stopped,
albeit with reluctance, and looked inside. The first thing that
caught her eyes was the curved pair of electrician’s pliers.
    She looked at them, her brow creasing into a
frown as she picked them up. What am I supposed to do with
these?
    Kate tested the blades against her fingers.
They were fairly blunt, but sharp enough to cut with a bit of
pressure behind them. Obviously meant for precision grabbing and
holding, she had little doubt that the fine tips could easily crush
the hypothetical grass stem, or anything similar. Experimentally,
she stroked the undersides of her breasts with the finer tip,
applying enough pressure to leave a red mark that faded when she
lifted the pliers from her skin. She moved behind a hard nipple and
squeezed experimentally. The elastic flesh of her aureole snagged
against the cold, ribbed jaws of the tool.
    Becoming more adventurous, Kate squeezed
until a dull pain throbbed between the curved steel. For one
moment, a thought blazed through her mind: a quick, hard snip
and that would be it! Daring herself, Kate let her aureole slip
through the metal, closing the pliers again just before her nipple
could escape. I wonder how it would feel?
    She suppressed the thought, not quite ready
to go there despite a curiosity that had plagued her since the
first time she realized she enjoyed...this. Instead, she imagined
Robert’s teeth in place of the pliers, his cock pushing deep into
her pussy.
    Closing her eyes, she squeezed the pliers
some more. She pushed her fingers deeper inside her pussy in
response to