Pegs and how the dark side was revealed in me

Clothes pegs are my BDSM curse. I don't like them. As a Domme I struggle to attach them, grabbing vainly at nipples and ball sacks. It's my nails that cause the problem. They are too long and blunt to manipulate the skin accurately. I certainly understand why some dominant women have long nails on one hand and short on the other but I am too vain to change the situation for myself.

Those few times a dominant male has applied them to my flesh have revealed a pitiful creature desperately calling out for them to be removed and the gentlemen amongst them have quickly consented.

But one who was a switch, and perhaps not a gentleman, did not.

He lured me with talk of shoes. We discussed styles and heel height and how much he enjoyed them. A sucker for shoes and proud of my collection I soon agreed to meet him. Then he introduced a twist alerting me to his taste for pain play. "Let me play with you for an hour and then we can swap" he wrote. I pointed out that I had never been in the dominant position and didn't have any desire to inflict pain. "I can help you with that, give you some direction". With Prussian precision he argued me into yielding.

Pegs, chain and a ruler, they sit innocuously in a suitcase waiting for use. A vibrator too, small and plain and easily overlooked. I learned about each as he brought them into play.

Once the niceties were disposed of, polite conversation, drinks and nibbles, he was quick to begin the torture. Off came my top and bra and on went the first pegs. How hard can a peg on each nipple be? They weren't coming off. Telling me I was made of sterner stuff and more than capable of bearing the pain he bent me over a footstool and lifted my skirt.

The ruler was a surprise. It flashed onto the top of my thigh and bit. It's a nasty little implement. Lots of small bites of pain placed randomly. It does no real harm but like a paper cut it irritates and annoys. I can't wriggle from the ruler as I have to minimize the pressure on the pegs, all the time they are burning into my nipples.

"I might stop if you ask nicely" I am told. So I ask nicely and beg for the pegs to be removed. Excellent, he tells me to sit up and pulls them off. That transient return of intense sensation only indicates relief to me.

The nipples rings please him and they featured in his next stage of play. A short length of chain, enough to link them tightly is attached with the remainder swinging onto my belly. He pulls and I follow until I am standing and breathing hard again. In his hand the vibrator is activated and applied to the chain between my nipples. I almost collapse as the vibration travels deep into my breasts and sensation flourishes. This is a feeling I will want to revisit.

Unlike the next which achieved his aim of activating my sadistic side.

He pulled me by the chain into the walk-in closet until I was positioned under a rail. Unclipping one end of the chain he passed it over the rail and back into position on the nipple. Standing on my toes was the only way to reduce the tension. My hands were placed behind my back "keep them there" he said and walked back into the room. So I teetered on the ultra high heels and worried about his return, I was right to.

A handful of pegs.

The pleading began before he had even placed one.

To no avail.

"Part your legs"

He had to be stern before I complied.

One by one pegs were attached to my labia. I believe there were tears. They bit and burned and in me a red mist grew. He wasn't heeding my cries for relief and as I looked at his impassive face there was the genesis of an urge to see features of pain reflected back to me.


It was time to switch.