“I am not responsible,” I declared in a tense and very strained voice, “for cum stains.” I glanced over to my left, looking at Kari as she laughed in response. Her delicate fingers shifted gears and the convertible’s engine seemed to hum in time with the vibroballs.
“You aren’t supposed to be cumming at all,” she said darkly. Her eyes danced over my twitching, exposed body and gave me a quick appraisal. “Are you close? You can always turn the vibroballs off, you know.”
I glared at her. I was agitated; mostly at being in this predicament in the first place. The Thrusting Anal Vibe, which she’d unceremoniously slid into my bottom that morning, wriggled inside my ass, its own oscillations just slightly off-beat when compared to the incessant buzz of the vibroballs Kari had popped into the opposite opening.
“I mean lubricant,” I stressed as my pussy tightened up around the twin spheres oscillating in my sex. “Maybe you should have let me wear panties.” It came out sort of snarly and Kari patted my bare leg, her fingers gliding along my upper thigh.
“You know the rules;” she said lightly. “No cumming. Turn the vibroballs off if you must.”
I bit my lip. Yes, that was certainly an option. But so was just saying “screw it” and letting a massive orgasmic climax rip through me like a bullet through a beer can. She hadn’t been too specific about the punishment so maybe being naughty was worth it.
“And in case you’re thinking that the punishment might be worth it, be aware that after I put you through your paces later I will strap you into a chastity belt and deny you orgasm for at least a week.
The color drained from my face. Kari had actually done that to me once. I’d nearly gone insane and there were still streaks of banana fucking nuts crazy in me when such an ordeal is even mentioned. I don’t handle denial well. Oh sure, two or three days I can handle, provided you don’t mind a very moody, emotionally distraught, desperate to fuck anything even remotely cock shaped, girl around you. But a week? By Day 5 I’m sort of beyond caring what I can manage to use to bring myself to orgasm. I’ll hump a chainsaw in that state. And at Day 7? Well… it’s not pretty.
The front of the peasant blouse I was wearing fluttered up thanks to the cold air blasting out of Kari’s air conditioning and I squealed, arms coming up to smooth the thin, pleated material back down over bare breasts. It wasn’t easy. The clamps got in the way.
“Look,” Kari continued ignoring the flashing bosom, the hardened tips of my breasts, and the copper wire coated clamps. “I don’t see what your problem is. You’ve already turned the vibroballs off three times and you get to leave them off for a full thirty minutes. That’s more than enough time to get your libido in check.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “While my tits and clit fry,” I said. Kari might have thought that thirty minutes of electricity shooting through my clit and nipples would be a counterpoint to the intense stimulation of the vibroballs, but she was wrong. At least when the Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulator was set to level one, or two, or even three. That wasn’t painful at all. In fact, it was more like a caress. I’d reeled from one near orgasmic precipice to another.
Kari grinned but didn’t reply.
I knew what she’d tried to set up - a sort of sexual paradox. Sure, I could turn off the vibroballs, letting them go silent inside me, supposedly reducing the overwhelming sexual need to explode. But she also required something else. I had to turn on the mobile TENS Unit. The control unit was tucked away in the bag against my side and had been there since nine that morning. Kari had arrived, sent me to the conference room to get dressed, then wired me up. Along with some other sexual indignities. When I’d emerged fifteen minutes later, three sets of wires ran from the top of my shoulder bag to various points of my anatomy. Both nipples were caught in small, understated clamps with enough exposed copper wire to make it clear that the point wasn’t to crush the tips of my breasts, but to send voltage through each tender nub. A third set of wires ran along my side and into the waistband of the micro-skirt I was wearing. The wire then reappeared beneath the hem before going to the third clamp, which Kari had eagerly attached to my clit.
Yeah. You heard me right. The wire came back out under the hem. Fricking micro-skirts. While standing the six inch length of material barely covered my pussy and had to be worn beneath the hips, risking a twitch that would send the whole thing crashing to my ankles. But even that wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was that if I elected to turn off the vibroballs again it would be the fourth time. Fourth time equaled fourth level. And while the first three settings on the transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulator had felt pleasant, ranging from a soft caress to heavier petting, level four was more like getting a hard, twisting pinch to each of the affected areas. Spending thirty minutes cringing each second as an invisible hand tweaked my nipples and clit wasn’t exactly the most appealing way to spend an afternoon.
On the flip side, we could be back at the restaurant where I’d been stared at constantly. Even the waitress had commented on the “novelty” of my attire. I’d blushed crimson while Kari had explained that I was a nympho humiliation pain slut and that I “liked” dressing that way. The waitress had been intrigued and Kari had even told her about the Thrusting Anal Vibrator I had up my ass, not to mention the damn TENS Unit and the vibroballs. I’d practically died of mortification when Kari had invited the girl to flip up the peasant blouse to see the clamps! Thank God we were in a back booth!
Back in Kari’s car I felt the wetness between my legs. My hips churned, working me against the trembling vibroballs and the thrusting anal vibrator, jammed deep in my ass. I knew right then, without a doubt, that I was leaking onto Kari’s expensive, leather car seat.
Serves her right.
We drove on in silence, hurtling up I-45 through the Woodlands up into Conroe. Traffic was horrible, despite the early afternoon and I kept glancing through the window, worried I was going to make the commute even more dangerous when some attentive driver noticed the redhead fuckslut, wearing clothing inappropriate for almost every venue, sitting in the red convertible with the blond hottie tottie behind the wheel.
“Where the hell are we going?” I asked grumpily, though my attitude was more a reflection of the growing stress building between my legs. Had I been allowed, I’d have jammed my fingers down between my legs and rubbed my clit until I’d cum. But that wasn’t permitted and despite the ticking time bomb inside me, threatening a rather impressive orgasm, I wanted to hold off as long as possible before enduring level 4 on the TENS Unit.
“The Becker Account,” Kari replied. “Rick wanted to meet with me so we could see the new retaining wall.
My eyes widened and I groaned. Rick Spratlin was a landscaping contractor Kari had been working with lately and I’d spoken with him a number of times on the phone. I hadn’t met him though and I silently cursed Kari Anders for setting me up. I was dressed like a two dollar whore, wearing only enough clothing to keep from being immediately indecent, and that was only if you threw out the obvious reference to my private parts that the clothing itself made. Remember, sometimes what is covered, and how it's covered can be sexier than plain nudity itself. I’m no dummy. I know that my clothes screamed “FUCKSLUT! PLEASE USE ME FOR YOUR OWN PLEASURE IMMEDIATELY!”
I made it another five minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore. The fucking dildo in my bottom. The vibroballs buzzing in my pussy. The utter humiliation of my state of dress. The wires leading to the clamps. It was just too much. Kari and I were already deep into the woods west of I-45, on the edge of the Sam Houston National Forest and I was on the cusp of orgasmic climax. With trembling fingers I turned off the vibroballs, gasping in both frustration and relief as the sexual force began to ebb and fade. I groaned, moving away from the precipice.
“Hey, get the TENS Unit on. Right now,” Kari ordered, giving me a somewhat stern glance. I nodded, taking a deep breath, reaching back into the bag on my side. I passed the Thrusting Anal Vibrator controller and grabbed the TENS Unit, turning the two dials up on either side. Immediately I felt the first jolt as the little machine pumped a few volts of electricity down each wire, through my nipples and clit, and then back up to the machine. I raised the level and the next pulse that hit me felt more like someone tapping on my body. Level three with a soft squeeze. And then each dial read “4”. I braced myself and got exactly what I was expecting. I let out a wheeze as the first real pain of the day hit me.
I let out a whimper as the TENS Unit let me go, only to catch me again with the sensation a second later. Pulses shot out from the machine, tenderly frying my clit and nipples as I struggled to sit still. My pussy tightened repeatedly and I realized that I’d reached a point where turning on the TENS Unit was actually detrimental.
“I’m… I’m…” I panted. “”Not sure…. If…”
Kari looked over at me. “Spit it out, Bre. What’s the problem?”
I closed my eyes, mouth open as a spasm of tremors rushed through me. “I’m not sure….sure… can’t… this…. Just… might make… me…”
“Cum?” Kari asked. She laughed. “Well, if you do then clearly we’ve reached a point where it makes no difference if you’ve got the TENS Unit on, or the vibroballs.” She said stoically. “So if you do cum then you can leave both on. Additional orgasms will merely result in us upping the levels on all three toys.” She pointed at a private drive. “Ah. Here we are.” She said.
My eyes snapped open. “What?” I demanded, through the sharp pinches to each nipple and my clit.
“We’re here,” Kari said.
“No! I meant about turning up the levels. You can’t be serious!” The convertible turned onto the well paved roadway and hummed through some rather gorgeous woods. I sat there, right on the verge of cumming.
“You heard me. If you cum now we’ll have to keep everything on and every additional orgasm we’ll turn up the levels.”
“But… but….” I stammered.
Kari patted my bare leg. “I know. If I were you I’d try very hard to control yourself.”
A huge house appeared before us and there was a drive around toward the garage area that Kari took. Six pickup trucks were parked and the fence gate was open. A thousand thoughts went through my head, of being paraded in front of Rick Spratlin and his work crew, of cumming, of being fucked every which way...
“Please,” I whimpered. “I don’t want to do this,” I panted, gripping the armrest, my hips burning and thrusting, totally out of my control.
Kari shrugged. “Sorry kitten. You the only choice you have is if you’re going in there with just the TENS Unit crisping your cute little pussy and nips, or whether I turn on the vibroballs too.”
I half twisted in my seat and grabbed her arm. “Kari!” I hissed. “First impressions are very important! What is Rick going to think?” I demanded, even as a wave of pressurized need blasted up through my pussy. My bottom clenched tight around the Thrusting Anal Vibe and my entire body shook with barely contained energy.
Kari smiled. “He will think that you’re a slut. That’s what you’re dressed as, isn’t it?”
I moaned, the pinching sending waves of sweet bliss through me. Up from the tips of my breasts and through my clit. Shard after exquisite shard. I shook my head, my thoughts already swimming, unable to delineate pleasure and pain. “You dressed me like this! I was wearing blue jeans!” I gasped
Kari looked at me. “Breanne Erickson,” she said in a stern voice. “What are you?”
I bit my lip. I hate the mantra. It pounded through me like a foot long dildo mounted to a jackhammer.
“I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut,” I whined.
“And what is your purpose?” She asked acidically.
My pussy quivered, trembling around the vibroballs, fluttering madly. “To satisfy other's sexual needs by letting them use and abuse me.”
“What do you like to be done to you?”
I whimpered and wrapped my arms around myself. My tits seemed to burn. “Hurt me.”
“And?” Kari asked again.
“Humiliate me,” I begged her, thrusting my hips forward, my bare and exposed pussy wild and wet.
“And?” she pushed.
My vision went dark as the wave rose up and took me, overwhelming me as I cried out. The orgasm shook me like a rag doll and then tossed me to the side so that I lay there, panting and broken. Slowly I turned my head to look at Kari, who was staring down at me. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or amused. “Use me?” I asked, then began giggling madly.
Kari let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Get out of the fucking car.”
Slowly I climbed out of the convertible and stood up in the heat. My black strap fuck me shoes went well with the micro-skirt, which I suppose I should have tugged down below my hips to covering my stuffed, dripping, and clit clamped pussy. I could still feel the hard pinching sensation stemming from the electrical charge flowing through the wires and I bit my lip, trying to ignore the urge to groan and cry out, or maybe even thrust my hips back and forth eagerly. Behind me the Thrusting Anal Vibe continued to extend and retract, literally fucking my ass even as it added its own unholy buzz to the collection of pulses emanating from the TENS Unit. I reached into the bag hanging from my shoulder and a moment later the vibroballs came to life. I set them to the lowest setting, almost swooning as another wave of pure bliss cascaded over me. Oh my God did it feel good. I gave Kari a huge smile, drunk and stoned as any addict would be after a fix.
“The next orgasm you have I’m turning the vibroballs and TAV to medium, and the TENS Unit goes up to level five,” Kari said darkly. “And you’re still spending a week in denial.”
My pussy pulsed around the vibroballs, mixing with the shocks and I let out a loud, low groan. “So much for first impressions,” I muttered.
Kari patted my rump once and then turned to face the gate. “You’ll be a hit. Trust me.” Then she took my hand and pulled me into my next fuckfest.
Is there more cumming? Of course. Until then, do yourself a favor and go buy all of Breanne's books. Every single one of them. You won't spend all that much and you'll be able to tide yourself over until Part Two of "Responsible" comes out. Trust me - the books are worth it!