I create pain and pleasure in equal measure

I like my index finger, its nail quite sharp
It can scratch and tear, yet be gentle and soothe
As it glides over your leg and up your curves
Will it be nice, or create havoc to your form?

And with my thumb its deadly, pinching sensitive parts
Crushing your nipple with immense vice-like force
But yet I can reduce the pressure to tease
Making the areola erect, and so I pinch again

Now my hands are capable of many good things
With the palms they can slap, stinging firm buttock
So they do in very nasty succession
Their tickling though I think is probably the worst

I do love my mouth, with its teeth and tongue
The digits of my hand are nothing to
what my teeth can bite and my tongue can lick
And especially, what my lips get to kiss!!!

Very nice, Darkmagi. I've taken the liberty of suggesting the following edits:

2. "sooth" s/b "smooth" or "soothe"
4. I would put a ? at the end
6. "vice like" s/b "vice-like"
9. "hand is" is singular, but the rest of the verse is plural. Change to "hands are", and "palms"
12. "it's" s/b "its"
16. "lips gets" s/b "lips get"

Cheers for the editing advice, always welcome :)

Interesting poem