Little Hints of Pain

It's been ages since he's touched me. It's just coincidence really. And bad luck. And more coincidence. And bad luck.

And suddenly we have little snippets of time and he's grabbing them.

"Pinch your nipples and roll them for me," he says. "Yes, like that."

Within minutes, yeah, like 2 minutes actually, I am wanting, needy.

I'm thinking about how I need him to be put the clamps on my tits. I think about this one pair of clamps. They have really wide tips, maybe an inch wide.

Want... 

They have a grip that pinches, HARD.

Yes, I want. I had forgotten how fast this happens between us. In negotiating logistics, carving out time, dealing with drama. I had forgotten why I work for it.
 
He uses the clamps with weights sometimes.

I want pain. His pain.

I want... him to make me hurt. To savour it, feel it. Hurt from it.

I want him to get off on it. Go further than I want. Maybe make me cry. Make me crawl. Use me.

Those clamps or others or none at all. I know he can feed this need inside me.

"It's pain right now, isn't it? Even more than sex. Isn't it girl?"

"Yes Sir." I can hardly breathe, my heart racing. I need it. And he knows. Which escalates it all. "It's pain that I need right now."

And now I can't stop thinking about it.

Please Sir, please find a time when you can hurt me. Make me crawl. Hurt me. Please.