He: "Remove your t-shirt."

I did as he asked, my heart pounding. He picked up the metal clips; they were cold in his fingers. He brought them to my face, tracing a path from my lips, down my neck, to the valley between my breasts. His hand moved to one of my buds, squeezing it firmly, sending a sharp jolt through me. Then, he carefully attached one of the clips to my hardened peak.