Saturday 7 May 2016

Change

"Pull down your shirt and take your tits out," he tells me. He's crude, direct. It's humiliating, but he says it so often that I usually don't think of the humiliation of it.

Do I want this? I do and I don't.

I want the attention. But really, if I had a choice, today I'd rather talk.

He pinches my left nipple. He pinches hard, flattening it between his thumb and forefinger. He looks in my eyes as he starts to roll it. Pain. Not spectacular, but such a trigger for me. It makes me crave sex, dominance, HIM.

And he knows it. He chuckles. He knows I've gone from acquiescing to wanting him, needing him.

I can feel my pussy swell. My breath comes faster. I want.

Want what? Anything he wants. I want to serve. I want... sex or more pain or humiliation. Really, I just want to please him, but those are the flavours of service he prefers from me, so that's what I associate the desire with.

I shift. God I want this.

He sucks my right nipple into his mouth, hard. I want more. I want it equal to the first.

At last he switches, and takes my right nipple in his fingers. He squeezes tighter, rolls harder. By the time he does, I want it so bad. I'm wet. Panting for it.

He tells me I'm a slut, a pain slut. I agree.

Such a difference from when he started this session. Initially, I wanted conversation. Now. just a few minutes later, I want sex and pain. When he started, I was submissive. But now I'm his needy little slut. Was that the point you were trying to make Master?

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