(not a) Pain Slut

So after Jay and I had talked about me not wanting him to live with me again, I promptly offered for him to come over last night and have dinner with me, and possibly stay over. You know, no strings attached, but hey, just because I told you 'no' doesn't mean I don't want to see you. That sort of thing.

Of course he accepted. He's not that dumb.

We managed to find a new restaurant and actually go and eat dinner, which is a first. I love the idea of finding new places to go and things to do, and then usually freak out at the last minute and want to stay home in a ball of cranky. But it was good. I ate ribs. And we talked through dinner, which we never do, and it was a rather novel sort of experience.

When we got home, Jay was laying on the bed in a bit of a steak-induced food coma, and I was puttering around, cleaning up small bits and bobs. My room is a hot mess, but I figure if I can at least get a few small things put away, that makes it a little bit better. Maybe.

I was cleaning off my nightstand, and came across a couple of clothespins I had taken out a while back, on one of the few occasions that I had masturbated. Naturally, being a snot, I couldn't help but make the comment "Oh, how did these clothespins get here?"

Jay more or less immediately woke up, and started questioning me on just why they were out, which turned me into a giggly wreck. It's like, I want him to know what I'm doing, but I don't want to actually tell him. He should just read my mind and know this shit, you know?

He eventually got out of me that I'd used them on my nipples, told me that was extremely arousing for him, and I thought the matter was over, since he was starting to fall asleep. Except, oh wait, no, and suddenly my clothes are off and Jay is digging around in the drawers. He comes out with the collar that we have matching cuffs to, puts it on, and then puts just the wrist cuffs on. He links the cuffs together and puts my hands over my head in that way that says that just because he didn't secure them there, doesn't mean I get to move them. I am waiting with baited breath to see what else he comes up with.

I am not entirely sure what he is doing until he starts pinching my nipples, which means that clothespins or other clamps are surely in my future. Now, I have somewhat sensitive nipples, and I am wholeheartedly not a pain-slut, so Jay usually puts the clamps somewhat behind my nipples, so that they're not the only thing clamped. No such mercy this time, the pins go directly on the nipples, and mother of GOD IT HURTS. I am doing deep-breathing exercises to deal with this pain, okay? Being a bit of a sadist, Jay is enjoying every minute, and decides to up the fun by adding a pair of clothespins to my labia, and hey, what's one more clothespin between friends? He puts it on my clit. I hate him.

He is toying with my g-spot in a way that raises goosebumps on my flesh, and I am desperately, desperately trying not to have an orgasm, because when I do, my tits will move, and it will hurt. Lots. At this point, I am probably about as happy as I can be without being happy at all, for whatever sense that makes.

By now my nipples have been tortured for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. This shit hurts. I probably cannot repeat that enough. I am also incapable of coming up with a good metaphor for the pain, so you'll have to take that. Anyway. He takes the clothespoins off my labia, and that's fine, not really too much pain there, nothing I can't handle. Then I see him going for the tits. Now, I wanted them off, I really did. But I didn't really want them off, because I knew that it was going to be horrible. He waits just long enough that he knows that I know it's coming, but not nearly long enough for me to psych myself up for it, and off they come and oh my god my world is black and focused entirely on the fucking pain that is radiating from my nipples and dear god it is never going to stop and jesus fuck i am about to cry.

Apparently at this point, I had an extremely sad face on. I wonder why that was?

He says that he is very pleased that I did not scream, and that I did not actually cry, although he could tell that I was close. He cuddled me for a bit, reassuring me, all of that sort of thing, because I needed it. For someone who I have frequently labelled as blind when it comes to non-verbal cues, he certainly does just fine reading them when we're playing together.

He did a few more things to me, and after the fun was done, snuggled up with me on the bed. My nipples were decidedly unhappy, so that limited a few of my snuggling options. The point of the matter is, we discussed, and he informed me that oh yes, this was entirely not about me and what I wanted, and definitely all about what he wanted to do to me. He knows I don't like pain, he knows where my limits are, and he wanted to push them. He likes doing that. He told me how I was a good girl for doing so well, and right there, as he is telling me that I don't get to choose what I have done to me, as he is holding me tight and caressing me, I feel the most loved, most cherished, and safest I have felt probably ever.