I was very much into BDSM - at least on the milder end of the spectrum - and had built up a little bit of experience. I liked dominating and submittin..., I guess you could call me a 'switch.'Something within me couldn't help but dig a little deeper into Amy's newly-revealed desires. I forced a calculated grin across my face."Well, well, well… so have you ever done any bondage, Amy?" I asked. I kept my tone light-hearted, but my question had a serious intent."No," she said, shaking her head.. ?Pink.??Prove it.??If I do, will you pull over and let me out, I won’t tell anyone, I know you’re just fooling, OK??He says OK, so she lifts up her sweater and unbuttons her blouse, pulls it open, lifts up each cup separately and holds the bra up to her neck so he can see. He says she looks very nice. He says it makes him horny.Now he’s supposed to be slowing down to let her out, but he isn’t, not at first. Then he does, and she catches her breath. Maybe he’s really going to let her go, maybe. I think she realized that was staring at her cleavage, because she got up, fixed her bra, and gave me a light slap on the arse."I suppose I deserve that," I said. She just walked silently out of the room, slowly swaying her hips.A bit later on that evening, I was lying on the sofa, listening to music with my eyes shut. My sister was upstairs. Suddenly, I felt a hand brush against my leg. I knew who it was, but I laid still and pretended that I didn't feel anything. About a minute later, I felt. He was lost in pure lust. He grabbed the box of tacks and put to the base of my wife’s left tit and let it rest in the open top on the tacks and push pins. He seemed to enjoy the fact that they were at his mercy. He put his other hand on top of tit and began to push it into the tacks. She moan with pain as her tit was pushed on nearly 200 sharp tacks. He continued to push hard. He reached for a stool that was close that was the perfect height to put the box on and have her tit able to rest in.