Full Service, Part Eight
We were curled up together in bed afterwards. Craftsmate had untied me and my head was kind of spinning. I had kind of fallen back into subspace during sex once more, especially when he pulled out and made me cum by grinding his thumb really hard into my g-spot. He knows I like the tension between things hurting and feeling pleasurable, such as getting overstimulated by a vibrator or getting spanked on my cunt.
But, anyway, I was a little hazy. The inside of my mouth tasted like condom and cum and I wanted to close my eyes for a bit.
Craftsmate reached over and pinched my nipples between his fingers. “You know, if I ever collar you and own you,” he said, pinching a little harder, “I would pierce these with little rings.”
“We’ll talk about it, Sir,” I replied.
He nodded and kissed my forehead. “Of course. I’d never make you. But maybe one day.” He released my nipples. “Anyway, you were a very good girl today.”
Swelling with pride, I let my eyes close and curled up in his arms.
In retrospect, I’m happy I pierced them on my own terms. When I was ready to admit to myself that I’d wanted them for years and that it was okay to take a risk and get them, when I did it how I wanted it to be done. (I think rings aren’t as cute as barbels.)
“Are you sure this isn’t because I like them?” Sir had asked me while we were waiting for the piercer. “This is what you want, right?”
I shook my head. “Are you kidding? This is all for me.”
We’re both glad about that fact.