It is no secret that I absolutely hate the nipple clamps. Stupid, scary, ouchy things. Unfortunately for me (and my nipples) I love to be made to do things that I hate now and then – it gives me that submissive kick of fear all mixed in with service and pain. Yum.
Long term readers of this blog may remember that Mr L and I started out, back in the old days, as strictly me-sub him-Dom. That changed over time, and we began to switch…
I think the boy had thought that the clover clamps weren’t really so fearsome as I made out, that it was mainly fuss. After all, they don’t feel so bad when you pinch the tips of your fingers with them, do they?
Of course, he knows now.
I’m not sure if it’s the anticipation that I enjoy the most, looking at the apprehension in his face as I hold them in my hands and trace the cold metal against his skin. Or possibly it’s the shock as they snap shut on those poor, tender little buds. It could just as easily be his confused mixture of arousal and pain as he pleads with me to remove them, or the last sharp bite written in shock on his face when they are removed and the sensation comes painfully flooding back in.
I love all of those things very much, but I must admit that they are made even sweeter by the memory of how he tormented me with those very clamps. I love being a switch – it affords me endless opportunities for revenge.
From One Sub’s Mission.
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