Friday, November 4, 2011


I've clamped my own nipples before, with these little plastic clothes pins. There was a certain lack of appeal for me. It didn't really feel like anything. Yeah, it squashed my nipple. Okay. That was about it. It didn't hurt, not in that delicious spine-tingling way I had been hoping for.

We also had these vibrating nipple clamps. Retarded, useless things with no bite to them whatsoever. Stupid. They went in the bottom of a storage box to rot.

He hadn't clamped my nipples, even though the clothes pins have been there waiting.

Then he did. 

He flogged my ass until I was taking big mouthfuls of the pillow to muffle my screams, because "this ass didn't get itself up and come to bed with me when I told it to."

Then he flipped me over, "I could flog your breasts too. They like that. Or the ruler, I know they like the ruler.... or, hm. I wonder." I wasn't really in the mood for this. 

He'd told me earlier I'd spoiled his experience of the show we were watching with my disappointment in it. It's just not up to its own standard.

So I covered my nipples with my hands while he was pondering out loud. Futility, I know. He flung my hands aside as if they were so much driftwood, and set about his business. He closed the first one slowly over my nipple and I squealed, then he repeated the action on the second one. I bucked. He slipped his fingers between my legs and stroked me, then slid them inside, commenting on how much I must like it. 

Sorry about the focus. I'm never in a well-enough lit place alone.

"I bet it hurts. But you're so wet." I was twisting like a mad thing; every heartbeat made my nipples feel like they would explode. "You want me to take them off, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, please," I pleaded, breathless.

"I don't think so. Maybe if you ask really really nicely." He kept slowly finger-fucking me.

My brain went alight at that. Everything that could fire was firing. "Oh, God! Please, please please take them off."

"What will you do for me?"



"Yes!" Just take them off already!

"You sure?" He twisted his fingers inside me.

All these sensations. I couldn't deal. "Yes, yes, anything." It occurred to me about here that he could take them off my nipples and put them somewhere even more painful... but surely he wouldn't. He could be evil, but not that evil.

"Well, okay then." He slowly released each clamp. He hadn't left them on long enough for numbness to set in, but there was a certain intensity to having them removed anyway. I pounded the bed with my hand and kicked my feet.

I was a bit concerned about what he would ask me to do, but no need. He just wanted his cock sucked. I had no problem giving him that.

He clamped my nipple once more after he'd had his various ways with me and was playing me like a violin in the aftermath of his orgasm. My flailing hand felt a clip where he'd discarded it on the bed, and in a moment of insanity I handed it to him. He applied it and I wondered what I'd been thinking.

It's so hot when I think about it later, even minutes later. It's hot when it's happening too, but in a different "oh God why is he doing this what have I gotten myself into this isn't going to work but I'll take it" kind of way. Of course in the end it does work. That moment when I'm begging him and he refuses, though? That's thrilling.


  1. i think i feel the same way about the clover clamps....the 'oh god what was i thinking' bit, at least. Why i ever asked for those friggerty damn things...and yet....well.

  2. It's a strange thing, the brain. "I hate this, I love this, I hatelove this, it's terrible, it's wonderful, it's terribly wonderful!" (explosion)

  3. We have two sets of clips, one has a chain connecting them. I must admit, I adore them.


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