It started as necessity, when her bank account reached the 6th digit whatever gypsy curse the board had paid for finally kicked in. It was horrifying for her to watch her nipples open up and speak, but even more horrifying was them screaming about her crimes whenever anyone way near.
She bolted out of work and called in sick the next day as she waited for her overnight delivery and spent most of the day experimenting with how to get them to work for her.
The clamps were wide, and clung tightly to her breast, barely poking outwards at all, and with the miniature vise design she was sure they would solve her problems. The first day it took her almost an hour to get the first one on, her nipple screaming its tiny magical lungs out as she turned the small attachable handle again and again. The vise’s grip tightened more and more with every turn and slowly the sound of her tattletale nipple quieted, only for it to be replaced with her own pained whimpers.