Sir tied me up recently. It has been a busy couple of months, with family obligations and work taking precedence. This has meant no time for tying.
For me, being restrained is a favourite. It makes Sir laugh as I drip moisture down my thighs even after the ropes have been removed. I love the marks on my skin that slowly fade.
Sir combined clothespins with the ropes this time. He had me place the pins, then he tied a torso harness, and my arms. He used a crop for the funishment, punctuated with the snapping off of the clothespins with the bat-end.
He saved the clip that I complained was the most painful for last. It was high on my right breast, almost directly over my nipple. When it snapped off my skin, I hissed. It was too painful for me to make a bigger noise.
Remembering to breathe. Remembering Sir’s instructions for counting. (To 30 by sevens! In French! In Italian!) Difficult, but worth the feel on his nails scraping over my newly-sensitised skin.