Wednesday, April 20, 2016


I could swear I've done this test before. But since Master Fred asked... == Results from == 99% Submissive 99% Rope Bunny 96% Slave 95% Exhibitionist 94% Experimentalist 88% Non-monogamist 86% Masochist 85% Degradee 85% Brat 85% Primal (Prey) 77% Voyeur 61% Pet 41% Girl/Boy 12% Ageplayer 10% Vanilla 3% Sadist 2% Degrader 2% Brat Tamer 2% Primal (Hunter) 2% Daddy/Mommy 1% Dominant 1% Master/Mistress 1% Rigger 1% Owner 1% Switch See my results online at

If anyone wants a pdf. copy of my report just email me and I'll send it along.


Sunday, April 17, 2016

Garter Clips

Our first stop did not relieve any of my sense of sexual foreboding. There is a shop near the Galleria specializing in attire for girls like me, or for lovers who like to wear something a little more risque for their partners - in private. Kari ordered me to go browse while she did some shopping, which left me feeling a little uneasy. The clerk admired me with an appreciative eye, her own attire a combination of sexy yet elegant.

“Can I help you?” She asked me, eyes locked onto my breasts. I wondered why she was ignoring Kari, all things considered.

I flushed crimson. “Uh. No. I’m uh… just looking. But my friend might need some assistance. I don’t know what she’s looking for.” I pointed back over toward my blond haired goddess who was moving along the far wall.

The clerk arched her neck - a long pretty neck - and smiled. “Stockings, huh? Okay.” She started to pass me, but then leaned over. “I love your blouse.” Her smile was full of appreciation and the offer was in her eyes. I looked away shyly, my skin rosy down to the tips of my breasts.

The clerk went over to Kari and the two conversed quietly. Kari nodded a smile of thanks and then the two of them moved off as I turned and contemplated a baby doll outfit that I thought would look really nice on Kari. Especially if I could parade her around the mall in it. Let her have a taste of what being humiliated in front of others was like. Kari weaved through the store and when she and the clerk got back to the register I sauntered on over, admittedly curious. My eyes widened when I saw what Kari had bought and my heart began thudding in my chest.

The first item was a pair of thigh high stockings. They were black and instead of being smooth, were made of lace, matching at least in concept if not actual design, my indecent blouse. Tons of my skin would show through the lace, making the stockings an attractant, screaming my sluttiness. Next to the package were a pair of garter clips. Not a belt mind you, but just the clips. Each one had an adjustable length elastic strap and the metal clips were stitched into the ends. Next to them Kari had placed a brand new pendant vibrator. This tiny sex toy was nothing more than a rubber padded clamp from which another electric motor dangled. I owned a few of these vibrator clamps, though this one was understated and quite pretty. Would you believe it worked on watch batteries? Lastly came a pair of tweezer clamps, both sporting tiny bells dangling from the ends.

My mouth went dry and I knew exactly what Kari was doing. My assignments are frequently about props and I’d been putting off a particular one that had come from Master Matt. Everything needed to complete his little task was there on the counter and the clerk was ringing it all up.

“Kari, please! No!” I begged her, one arm on her elbow. “Please?”

The clerk smiled, completely misunderstanding me. She thought I was begging to put it all on right that minute.

“There’s a changing room right over there,” She said, pointing. “If you need some help I’d be happy to give you a hand.” The way she said it was deep with meaning.

I glanced at the clerk, mortified. From the sparkle in her eye, I could tell that the clerk was hoping I’d ask for help, and I was willing to bet a twenty stroke spanking that her fingers and tongue would be heavily involved. I suppressed a shudder that didn’t start in my shoulders, but instead came from the vibroballs still purring embarrassingly in my pussy. Kari passed over her credit card and then handed me the pendant vibrator, the tweezer clamps, the stockings, and the garter clips. Then she turned back to the clerk.

“I’m sure Breanne would greatly appreciate your assistance,” Kari said wickedly.

The clerk’s eyes brightened and I’ve never seen a sale consummated as fast. She handed Kari her receipt, picked up my items, and then gestured for me to accompany her to the dressing room. I followed along, the scent of my arousal actually perfuming every step. I could feel the wetness seeping down my thigh. The clerk opened the little door for me and I stepped into the cubicle, which was just big enough for two. Mirrors lined each wall and there was a tiny bench for sitting. I just barely had time to put everything down when she grabbed my breasts. It surprised the hell out of me, her squeezing and pinching the tips of my nipples with sudden hunger. I fell back against the wall as she pressed her body against mine, undulating and rubbing herself against my boobs and leg.

“My God, you are so sexy!” She whispered to me. Her fingers went down and found the hem of the lace turtleneck, pulling it up and baring my breasts in less than a second. I gasped as she put her mouth on my left tit, sucking the nipple and piercing into her mouth. Pleasure shot up through me as I tilted my head back, totally lost in the rapture. Her left hand came down off my right breast after teasing the nipple and pulling on the padlock, only to come up between my legs, pulling the skirt upward until she could cup my sex with her hand. I spread my legs without a single thought. It was totally instinctive, a response to her suckling and touch. She let go of my breast, the vacuum of her mouth replaced with the darting lick of her tongue and then she pushed a finger into my pussy, pressing her nail against one of the humming vibroballs, tapping it with a pressing rhythm that sent pressure waves through me.

I trembled under the touch and the scent of her filled my nose. She pulled her head away from my breasts and turned toward the items Kari had bought, her hands tearing open the box that held the tweezer clamps. My eyes locked onto her hands as she brought the two steel pincers out, holding them up. The rubber caps on the ends were black and the corners of the clerk’s mouth curled up as she delicately placed each clamp on my nipples, just behind the hoop piercing. She pushed up the tightener bands until I gasped. There was no pain, just this delicious squeezing that made me think of my breasts constantly. The little silver bells rang as I breathed and moved and her hand went back down between my legs, her fingers rubbing at my clitoris.

“Do you taste as good as you look?” She asked with heat. I didn’t reply but she sank to her knees and lifted my left leg up, setting my foot on the little bench beside us. I couldn’t help my response as her tongue darted forward and began licking my clit. I let out a powerful moan and shuddered with pleasure. Her hands came up under the skirt, pushing it up to my waist, baring my bottom. Her hands took hold of me, cupping my buttocks and kneading my flesh as she sucked and licked and nipped at my clit. I was getting dangerously close to orgasm and when she let go with one hand and groped for the pendant vibrator box I knew that there was no holding back. She kept licking me even as she tore open the cardboard and pulled the little plastic tab that activated the toy. She pulled back, just for a moment, in order to clip the thing to my distended clit. I cried out, loudly I might add, as the duck bill clamp closed down on my swollen nub. Then she went back in, licking the little bit of my clit sticking out from between the two sides of the clamp.

And that was just about all I could take.

The orgasm that rocked through me was rather powerful, considering Kari had me prancing around like a hooker doing the slut walk of shame. But to be taken like this, by a woman who didn’t know me, who wanted me just because of how I was dressed, was totally humiliating. The clamps the clerk had put on me didn’t technically hurt, not really. But I could feel them, the light pinching, the sweet dark sensation of something naughty, combined with the vibrations coming up from the pendant, the soft ringing of the bells dangling from my tits. It all came together in this wave. It concentrated and enhanced the orgasm, making it all feel twice as large, twice as intense, twice as exhilarating. I cried out and put my hand on her head, threading my fingers into her hair. I didn’t hold her in place. I’m not like that. But I made sure she knew that what she was doing was so good, so incredible, that I wanted, no - needed her, not to stop.

I slumped against the wall, my chest heaving, the bells ringing out each breath, feeling as if everything was right with my world once more. Any doubts about my attire, my embarrassment, any of it, had been blasted from my mind, my worries cast away. A silly stupid smile spread across my face and I looked down at her upturned eyes, her lips glistening with my effluvium. I pulled my fingers out of her hair, but pulled her up and when she was on her feet I pulled her into an embrace, my mouth coming down on her, my tongue licking her lips, tasting my own sweetness, then French kissing her.

Then…. Then it was my turn.

She was wearing a cute little black dress and went to my knees, pushing up at it. She gasped and I heard soft words of protest come from her mouth. “Oh! No! Please! Really I cant!” She whispered to me. My eyes met hers.

“Please? Let me reciprocate?” I begged. “Kari will punish me if I don’t.”

She paused. “Punish you?”

I nodded. “Most likely a whipping or a spanking,” I told her.

I could see the wheels churning in her mind. “I’d like to see that,” she said with a grin. I pulled back slightly. She gave me a smile and then grabbed the box that held the stockings. “Come on. I’ll help you get them on. Take off your shoes.”

Slowly I stood, feeling just a bit disappointed that I wasn’t going to get my tongue inside her pussy. Still, I had to respect her wishes, didn’t I? So I put one foot up on the bench beside her and started on the straps. By the time she had the box opened and my new lace stockings out I had my shoes off. I held up one foot, bracing myself against the sides of the changing room and she began rolling the stocking up my leg. The bit around my foot had a tighter weave than the rest of the lace, thank God, so it didn’t expose my toes, but as it went up the larger gaps near my calf and thighs revealed a ton of white, creamy leg. Then it stopped, mid thigh. I blinked.

“Oh dear. I’m not sure she got the right size,” said the clerk.

I looked down. My skirt was still around my waist and I rolled it down. Sure enough, there was a four inch gap between the hem and the top of the stocking.

“No. She got exactly what she wanted me to wear,” I assured the clerk, a sinking feeling in my tummy. I put my foot back down and then lifted the other leg. It felt good to have her fingers gliding up my skin. She gave me a curious glance and started putting the second stocking on my foot.

“I’m not sure what your mistress is thinking though. These stockings have an elastic top. They won’t be sliding down so you won’t need those garter clips.” She finished pushing the nylon lace all the way up my leg and again it was short under my skirt. I turned my leg left and right, examining the look and finding it just a bit much. The lace screamed “fuck me.” I put my foot back in my high heel and she helped me buckle it up.

Of course while all this was going on I had the vibrator pendant still on and swinging from my clit, as well as the two vibroballs buried in my pussy. So while I’d just cum, the sexual tension and torment hadn’t stopped. My pussy was still rhythmically pulsing around the toys. I took a deep breath and picked up the cardboard package that held the garter clips. I began tugging at two of them, tearing them free.

“Didn’t you hear me sweetie? You don’t need those,” the clerk said softly, putting a hand on my upper thigh, just above the stocking. “Besides, you don’t have anything to clip them too.”

I swallowed. With my turtleneck blouse still up above my breasts, the bells rang steadily as I struggled with the tension of expectation. “Yes. Yes I do.” I put my right leg up on the bench beside her and clipped one end of the little elastic band to the inside of the stocking. It gripped with some small, plastic teeth, guaranteed not to tear the material. I pressed the elastic up along the inside of my leg. The clerk watched with increasing puzzlement, right up to the point where I shortened the strap and pinched open the free clip.

“Oh my God!” She whispered. “Don’t! That will hurt!”

I clipped the strap to my labia.

She was right. It did hurt. The soft, wet petal of a woman’s slit was never meant to be caught between the open pincers of a garter clip. Still, it held and the little plastic teeth designed not to damage the material of my stocking dug deep into my flesh. It pulled my pussy open on the right side, exposing the soft and delicate inner parts of my sex. I put my leg down and felt the pull. It was quite uncomfortable. But that was the point, right?

“Can I have the other garter clip?” I asked, my voice tight. The clerk looked up at me and picked up the clip. “Please? Can I do it for you?” She asked. I nodded and lifted my other leg. Quickly she secured one of the clips to my stocking, right along my inner thigh. She shortened the strap to match the one on my other leg, and then pulled on the elastic, stretching it up to my pussy. She pinched open the end and using her fingers, pushed my labia between the teeth. It closed down, biting into me and I gasped again. I lowered my leg and stood there trembling, my clit vibrating, my labia caught and pulled open, attached to my stockings. The surge of arousal that hit me at that point was damn near intoxicating and my hips rolled with a pelvic thrust that would have put a stallion standing stud to shame. Of course, that’s when I realized that any such movement would tug on my petals. I ran my hands down my body and pushed the skirt as low as possible. It concealed my sex, barely. Then I grabbed my blouse and rolled it back down over my breasts, the lace material enclosing around the tweezer clamps clinging to my nipples. The nice part was that the lace also silenced the bells.

She opened the door for me and I stepped out, taking small steps that wouldn’t pull on the garter clips too much. As it was every step still resulted in a hard, painful tug on my labia, the juicy petals pulled outward. Kari was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, a smug look of victory on her face.

“It looks very nice,” She said. “Except for the shoes. We’ll have to fix that.”

I gulped. Kari leaned forward. “Did you cum?” She asked.

I nodded. “Yes mistress.”

Kari shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know the consequences of that, don’t you?”

My eyes widened and my thoughts went back to Master Matt’s assignment. Cumming was permitted, but only under specific circumstances. But I’d thought that meant after I’d been clamped and gartered.

“Uh…” I stammered. Kari gave me a smile and then looked at the clerk. “Do you have anything that might serve as a switch?”

The clerk’s eyes widened and I saw that sudden brightening. She gave me a flash of a smile and then hurried past, dipping into a doorway that clearly went to a back room. Kari looked back at me.

“How do they feel?” She asked curiously.

I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, feeling the garter strap pull harder on that side of me. “It aches,” I said softly. “But what feels the strangest is being opened like this. I can feel the air on the insides of my pussy.” I bit my lower lip. “It’s a bit disconcerting.”

Kari laughed, her voice musical. “Good. I like you disconcerted.”

We waited a moment more and then the clerk came back in. She was holding what looked like a doubled up wire, encased in plastic. “Will this work?” She asked, handing it to Kari. My mistress unfolded it and I realized it was some sort of electrical cord. Both end had receptacles. Kari folded it back up, looping it, only to give it a little swing.

“Yes,” Kari replied. “This will serve well.” She turned toward me. “Please bare your breasts and your ass. I think five strokes to each will be sufficient.” Then to my shock, she handed the cord back to the clerk. “You may deliver the punishment.”

The clerk took the cable with wide eyes. “I uh… really?”

Kari nodded and crossed her arms. “Please do. And be sufficiently thorough or I’ll have to repeat the punishment in order to make sure she has appropriately suffered.”

The clerk licked her lips and stepped up to me. A thrill of fear and excitement hit me and my pussy clenched hard around the vibroballs. The pendant danced at the end of my clit and I pulled my shirt back up, exposing my tweezer clamped boobs. The bells began jiggling again and then I reached down and tugged up my skirt. For a second I wondered what part of me the clerk was going to hit first. Then she took a step back along my left back quarter, raised the cord, and whipped it hard against my ass.

Physics demanded a response from my person and the first thing that happened, besides a biting sting that had me gasping in alarm, was for my entire body to rock forward. What made this intriguing was that both bells hanging from the tweezer clamps rang and tinkled merrily as my body jerked with the burning sting. My hips were thrust forward, a natural reaction to having something strike your posterior and this forced the garter clips to pull painfully on my pussy lips. My arms swung backward, my instinctive reaction to cover my bottom, which I only managed to quell a moment before the second stroke of the electrical cord slashed across my rump.

“Ooohhhhh!” I gasped, taking a step or two forward. The clerk was hitting me hard enough that the cordage she was using on my ass was definitely leaving a mark and I could feel the blistering heat as my skin reddened and rose in a lined loop, matching the curvature of her makeshift lash. Of course my steps tugged painfully on my stretched labia and I let out a whimper as my body folded and cringed.

A third stroke was lighter than the first two, but still hurt like the dickens. I made it to the checkout counter and braced myself, the bells ringing as I sucked in each new breath. My ass shook, the garter clips tugging on my petals and a fourth stroke drew a scorching line from one side of my rear to the other. I gripped the counter as my knees buckled and I drew in a long, shrill breath.

“Just one more, darling.” The clerk laid a soft hand on my waist. She swung the cord and it impacted along my flank. It bit into my bottom and I ended up slamming my hips against the counter top. I let out a squeal as the differing pains exploded through me, all of which were tinged with the still buzzing vibroballs and the pendant vibrator hanging from my clitoris.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry you had to take all that,” the clerk said, throwing the cord down on the counter. I was panting hard and laid my head on my arms as she wrapped herself around me. Thank God she avoided touching my butt.

“Now her tits,” Kari declared. “Five strokes.”

My head snapped up, just the same as the clerk. “Uh. I’m… uh. I’m sorry. But I can’t,” the clerk stammered, backing away from both me and the cord. Kari gave her an appraising look. Then the blond goddess plucked the electrical cord from the counter and gave me a nod.

“Assume the position,” she ordered.

I knew which position Kari wanted me in. Slowly I turned around. The counter was low enough so I leaned backwards and put my palms down on the counter. This presented my breasts, the tweezer clamps, and the stupid little bells. I stood there, bracing myself, expecting Kari to swing the cord at any second. I felt the tremors, my body poised on the verge of panic, of expectation. I was scared to death of the pain and yet a part of me wanted it desperately. My bottom still burned and then Kari suddenly reached out and plucked one of the tweezer clamps off my breast. I gasped and she tugged the other one free, tossing them both on the counter behind me.

“Spread your legs,” she whispered.

Oh. Oh shit.

Our eyes met and she waited expectantly. A few feet behind her the clerk watched, and it wasn’t a look of sympathy. She wanted Kari to hit me, even if she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She probably wanted to see my pussy pulled apart by the garter clips too. My skirt was still pulled up around my waist and slowly I widened my stance.

“More,” Kari said.

I moved my feet another few inches.

“Further apart. I want your pussy pulled open.”

I groaned and spread my legs even more. I felt the hard pull on my labia, the garter clips digging into my flesh. Pain radiated up from my slit, but it was attenuated by the vibrating pendant and the vibroballs. I buzzed and moaned and my hips rolled. Then Kari moved off to my side, reset her grip on the cord, and swung it lightly at my tits.

By lightly, I mean light enough that I didn’t scream bloody murder when it hit me. It struck with just enough force to make me gasp, for both boobs to jiggle and shudder, and for the lightest of lines to be drawn from one end to the other. My pelvis tilted with the blow as my body worked to relieve the tension, totally oblivious to the fact that thrusting forward lasciviously would tug and stretch my labia even more. The pink insides of my pussy were on full display as I gasped and struggled not to cover my breasts.

Kari swung again, this time just a little harder and I flinched. My knees closed. A deep, hard pain appeared in my chest and seemed to clench a fist around my heart for just a moment. Then my boobs seemed to throb and I shuddered.

“Get back in position,” Kari said, her voice still soft. I whimpered as I straightened up and Kari’s arm slashed forward again. The rubber coated cord bit into the supple flesh of my bosom, drove in half an inch, and then exploded back outward. I cried out and fell forward, my arms flashing across my tits as I crumpled. Kari caught me halfway and held me while I let out a choked sob. The pain that radiated through my bosom was breathtaking, and by breathtaking I mean that it literally took my breath away. It hurt to breath. Kari held me as tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Sshsshhh, it’s almost over.”

I let out a shrill protest. “N-n-no it’s n-n-not!” I stuttered through my tears. “Y-y-you’re going to walk me around like this, with those c-c-c-clips on my pussy!”

Kari rocked me back and forth and I felt the garter clips pulling on my labia. Finally she pushed me back, forcing me into an upright position. “Yes. But first I’m going to finish whipping your tits. Now put your hands behind your head.”

She pulled on my arms and I let her push them up and back until my fingers were locked behind my head. The clerk was watching wide-eyed as I just stood there and accepted the abuse. My chest heaved and Kari took a step back, loosening up the cord.

“Spread your legs, Breanne. I don’t want to have to tell you again or I’ll whip you there as well.”

I spread my legs, wincing as the garter clips tugged my labia outward in the obscene pull, exposing the dark, inner pink. Pain radiated up from my lower half and mixed with the deep discomfort and ache of my boobs, and then seemed to merge with the pleasure of both the vibrating pendant and the vibroballs. Kari gave the cord a practice swing, making me flinch. It swirled in the air and Kari took a half step forward. The cord flashed and caught just the tip of my left breast. It stung like the dickens and I gasped, but just barely managed to hold my position. Kari smiled at me.

“Last one. Be brave,” she told me.

I nodded. Kari swung the cord and it cut into my right breast, buried itself deep, then went through to my left breast. My entire body swung as it turned me and I cried out as the pain blossomed like a firebomb going off. My hands came off my neck and I cradled my hurt bosom as Kari rushed to me, planting kisses on my cheeks as she soothed me. I kept my legs open as Kari ran her fingers up and down my back and then down between my legs. A sudden wave of exquisite pleasure hit me as she pressed the vibrating pendant into my clitoris and then her mouth was on mine, kissing me. I shook and trembled in her grasp until finally I started feeling like myself. Kari put her mouth next to my ear.

“Are you wet?” She asked me.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Ask the clerk to put the tweezer clamps back on your tits. Then we’ll go buy some shoes.”

I whimpered. “Oh please, no Kari!”

“You will do as I say, kitten.” Then she let me go. I turned toward the counter and reached for the tweezer clamps, trying to see them through my tears. I held them out toward the clerk. My voice warbled as I spoke.

“W-w-would you p-p-please put these on my nipples?”

Kari gave the girl a warm smile. “Tightly please.”

The clerk swallowed and reached out, taking the two tweezer clamps. “Uh… yes. Of course.” I held my breath as she attached the tweezer clamps to the tips of my breasts a second time. Her eyes were sympathetic and she bit her lip as she put the first tweezer on my nipple. “Does it hurt badly?” She asked me.

I nodded. I could see the welts appearing on my tits and my right nipple was especially sensitive. I hissed as the tweezer clamp surrounded the distended and swollen tip and pinched it lightly. The clerk pushed the retaining ring up and the bell tinkled beneath my boob. She moved on to the other side, once more positioning the tweezer clamp behind my piercing. It tightened around the nub and I groaned. Then she stepped back and I turned to face Kari.

“Very nice. You may cover up,” she said.

I nodded and brought my shirt down over my breasts, muttering “if that’s what you want to call it.” My hands slid down and pushed my rolled up mini-skirt back down, covering my welted ass and clamped pussy. I could feel drops of juice along my outstretched labia and the garter straps were wet.

“Come along, Breanne. We can’t have you wearing open toed sandals with stockings, no matter how slutty they make you look,” Kari said, turning her back on the store and heading for the door. I glanced at the clerk who gave me a huge smile.

“Good luck, Breanne. I wish I was as brave as you.”

I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it.

Brave. Yeah.

More like stupid.

And then I followed Kari Anders.

Want to know what happened next? Well, that will be in my next book. Why? Gotta have a reason to  buy it, right? - Bre 

Breanne Erickson is the author of "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volumes 1 through 12. Check out her amazing stories at, or at

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Garter Clips - Teaser

“Stand up,” Kari said to me as she came through the glass door. It was a heck of a greeting. Normally I get a “good morning, Bre. How’s my favorite fuck slut today?” Or “You look ravishing this morning Bre. I think I might just have a taste of my nympho humiliation pain slut.” Or at least “Hello Bre, go to the supply closet and strip naked. I want to whip your cute little pussy.”  But now that I think about it, maybe “stand up” is actually better. It avoided a label that a good portion of my messed up psyche isn’t exactly comfortable with.

So I stood, like any good, submissive, fuck slut would. Like I said, I have a messed up psyche.

Kari put her purse down on the desk and rounded the corner so she could see me completely. I felt like a bug under a microscope as she examined my person with both appraising and appreciative eyes. She started at ground level, no doubt examining my selection of footwear; a pair of black strap heels that had a good four inch lift. We’d had a discussion about shoes a week before and she’d grudgingly agreed to let me come down a few inches in order to spare my back. High heels can be a killer. We also agreed that boots would be acceptable on some outings, like demo days, so I had a pair in the trunk of my car.

My legs, as usual, were totally bare. I’m not a stockings girl for the most part. Sure, I own a few, but I’ve never really seen the appeal of them. Since Kari prefers sandal type heels on me, stockings would look a little odd at the toe. She once told me when we were teenagers that not wearing stockings revealed a vulnerability, just one less piece of attire between my body and hers.

Kari liked accessibility, which was why I was wearing a mini-skirt that barely covered my ass and left ninety percent of my leg showing. It was the kind of skirt you see on a girl who is constantly flashing the little lace triangle of her panties every time she sits down, or climbs in or out of a car. Men are constantly waiting for that little glimpse, presuming she’s wearing panties at all. I was following in the footsteps of great pantiless women like Madonna, Kate Moss, Britney Spears, and Kim Kardashian; the soft pink petals of my sex waited for an embarrassing moment to peek out from under the hem, revealing just how desperately wet I was.

Thanks to the vibroballs, my pussy was just a tad bit damp and Kari’s eyes traced the bright pink wire that extruded out from under my black mini-skirt’s hem and trailed upward toward my hip. It was an obnoxious, obvious display, since the position and color of the wire made it rather obvious that I hadn’t shoved my iPod up under my skirt. There would be little doubt in educated or speculative minds that the wire led to a sex toy. It served as another point of humiliation for a girl who cringed when walking into public. The single knob was set to low, sending a small electric current down the wire, which in turn powered a pair of weighted motors, both offset of course, inside two plastic, pill shaped containers. These “pills” were too large to swallow though and had been placed, like suppositories, into my sex that morning with a judicious push of my thumb.

But Kari didn’t stop at my skirt. Her eyes continued upward, roaming over my exposed tummy and up to my top. I hoped she was looking favorably on the blouse I’d selected that morning. It was one she’d bought me and I’d avoided wearing it for months. It was technically a turtleneck, but since it was made of black lace with embroidered black leaves and flowers on it, indecently exposing every curve of my breasts, making it obvious I wasn’t wearing a bra, calling it a turtleneck implied a sort of conservative persona that I find hard to apply. My nipples were hidden, but only by the grace of God and maybe a conscientious designer who had placed the embroidered ivy leaves in just the right spot. Which was good, because the gold hoops which pierced both of my nipples would have been easily seen through the lace sections of my top. And we don’t even need to talk about the small, shiny padlock that could be seen, or the fact that it had to be hanging from my right nipple.

I wasn’t wearing any other jewelry, unless you counted the dangly earrings that pierced each lobe. They were gold, twenty-four carat, and matched the shirt. Lately Kari had requested I wear earrings that befitted my station in life. I’d been a smart ass and asked exactly what my station in life was and Kari had given me such a wicked and sexually naughty look that I just shut the hell up. If you’d asked me, I’d have told you that I’m a stud girl. No… not that kind of stud, though I’ll do him too if I get the chance. Studs as in small, understated earrings. Remember, if given the opportunity, I’d dress like a mouse and you’d never notice me. I hate being put in theses… costumes. It’s humiliating beyond all belief.

I cringed under Kari’s sharp gaze and felt my pussy tighten up even more around the vibroballs. For a wild second I hoped she’d order me to the supply closet, where the punishment frame was waiting. I’d strip naked, let her hang me by the wrists, my weight supported on the twin spreader poles which would force my legs open. She might whip me, or cane me, or use the leather sap on my pussy, or she could push the fucking machine, a dildo tipped post attached to a quiet electric motor, underneath me, letting me endure and enjoy the constant fucking for hours. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” Kari said. She turned back toward the door, the one leading to the lobby. “Come along, Bre.”

I blinked and gaped. Today wasn’t an outing day. I wouldn’t have worn the outfit I was in if I’d know we were going out! “Kari!” I hissed. “I’m not dressed for an outing!”

She glanced back at me over her shoulder. “On the contrary my dear, your outfit is almost perfect.” Then she went out the door, holding it open, expecting me to comply. I swallowed hard, a mixture of fear, excitement, and definite arousal surging through me. Would she humiliate me? Would she hurt me? Would I cum?

Well, duh.

I grabbed my purse. It held the basic necessity a girl like me needs; condoms, clamps, a few diabolical sex toys, lubricant. Then I followed her out. She locked the office and together we went to her car.

Don't worry. This is just the teaser. The good part will get posted tomorrow! I promise! - Bre

Saturday, April 2, 2016

RVP Blush

A beautiful girl sat down in the chair opposite me, her bright blue eyes flashing with amusement as she cast an appreciative glance over me. She was wearing a light blue summer dress that did absolutely nothing but flaunt her amazing curves and a pair of heeled sandals that were both sexy and sensible. The collar was low, revealing a great deal of her chest, which for the most part was creamy white, except instead of freckles a dusting of what looked like stars in the sky stretched across her cleavage. And what a cleavage! Her d├ęcolletage was the sort of thing that men dream about burying their faces in. Down around her upper thighs, the hem of the dress danced enticingly. I stared at her as she gave me a huge smile, my face expressionless as I struggled not to cry out, whimper, or make a scene.
“You know,” Alissa said, leaning forward with a smirk. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find you. But Christ, Bre. You’re like a fucking peacock. Practically every man here is staring at you.”
I didn’t bother to glance around. I knew damned well what she was talking about. With my fire-engine red hair standing out like a beacon in the crowded food court, I could have been wearing a plastic garbage sack and men would have looked at me. Red hair is like that. Kari once told me that redheads come in two flavors: those who wish they were the center of attention and those who need to be. I’m not sure where I qualify on that spectrum, but my hair isn’t “auburn” or “rose.” My hair is red. An unnatural hue of it too. So my crimson locks are meant to attract attention. Personally I disagree with Kari. I think my hair color is a cry for help. But combine fire-engine red hair with the ivory colored dress Kari had bought me, not to mention the six inch high heels I was wearing, and my attire practically screamed “LOOK AT ME! NOW!”
Along with other, more prurient suggestions.
Alissa looked at my dress with a calculating expression. “That’s a novel outfit. How are you keeping your breasts in it?”
I swallowed and looked downward. I could understand her curiosity. The front of the dress had an oval cut in it that exposed practically everything from the hollow of my throat to a disturbing point midway down my ribcage. The top halves of both breasts were pushed up and looked like they were about to pop out of my dress with the slightest provocation. I’d complained to Kari when she’d given it to me that a deep breath would cause a “wardrobe malfunction.” I’d meant it as a joke, except it had actually happened in the car. The dress was tight, which was just about the only thing keeping my bosom from falling out. Kari had warned me just as I left, not to do any jumping jacks.
“It’s tight,” I said, my voice strained. Alissa leaned forward.
“Is that your RVP I hear?”
My RVP, or “Rotating Venus Penis” is a sex toy that I’ve had for years (though I’ve replaced the thing twice.)  The current model was shaped like a purple butterfly which was strapped into place along my slit. The nose of the butterfly was pressed against my clit, delivering some rather intense vibrations to one of the most sensitive spots on my body. Unfortunately this was combined with a four inch silicon covered phallus that extended from the butterfly into my dripping, hot depths. Then, to make matters worse, a second motor caused said phallic probe to corkscrew around inside me. And since both motors were set to their highest speeds, I was on the verge of having a rather impressive, loud, somewhat frantic orgasmic explosion.
In a crowded mall food court.
I gritted my teeth, trying hard to suppress the involuntary jerking of my hips. Alissa looked around. “I’m thinking I should get something to eat. How much more time do you have?”
I glanced down at my watch. “Eight minutes,” I said tightly.
Alissa leaned back and crossed her arms. “You’re wound so tight it looks like you’re about to pop.”
My eyes widened. “I am about to pop!” I hissed.
“Good!” She replied wickedly. “I was worried I was just here as a witness.” She glanced under the table. “Are they in your purse?”
I nodded, struggling even more not to cry out. Beads of perspiration had appeared on my forehead and the full throttle churning of the RVP’s prick inside me, not to mention the vibrations rushing up from my pussy and clit, was about to send me over the edge. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles white.
“I’m curious,” Alissa continued, as if her conversational companion wasn’t trying to desperately control the tremors shaking her. “Will this be a ‘When Harry Met Sally’ moment? Or do you think you’ll be able to keep your screams to a minimum.”
I little touch of anger flashed across my eyes. “Worried I might embarrass you?” I asked spitefully, knowing damn well what she was trying to do.
Alissa laughed. “Hardly. If I’m not humiliated to be seen in public with you in the first place, you cumming loudly in the food court isn’t going to phase me.” She leaned forward, grinning “You know, I wasn’t told that you’d be wearing such an intriguing outfit. I especially like the neckline, or lack thereof. Do you think anyone would mind if I just tug the front down and put your alligator clamps on right here?”
And with that she managed to do exactly what she intended. My mind was filled with the image of her reaching across the table, grabbing my dress and yanking downward, both breasts falling out. My pussy tightened as she fished the alligator clamps out of my purse and put them both on me, right behind the piercings on each nipple, sending wicked shards of pain through each soft jug, straight to my brain.
But that was just fantasy. What actually happened was that I let out a shallow, low throated moan that held more than enough innuendo to tell everyone in the immediate vicinity that I was having an orgasmic episode. I pitched forward, almost enough to hit my head on the table, stopping myself just in time as my hips began rocking wildly. The wicked movements of the RVP spinning and screwing inside me sent waves of wild pleasure up through my body and my toes curled as the spasm of sweet tremors left me rigid and panting. I felt the surge of wetness and my cheeks turned crimson, knowing I’d just soaked the back of my dress, the part I was sitting on. I let out a bit of a whimper as the peak crested and then faded, leaving me breathless and limp. Slowly I straightened and looked up at Alissa.
She reached out and patted my hand. “Actually, I was joking. But if you want you can give me the alligator clamps now.”
My eyes widened and I glanced down, gasping. Sure enough, my left boob had pretty much exploded out of the dress, the nipple totally visible. I glanced around as I hauled up on the dress and saw a number of pleased grins.
“You can turn off the RVP now, Bre.” Alissa’s lips were pressed together in a smirk and I nodded wordlessly, my face flushed as I put my hand down in my lap. I pulled up the hem of my dress just enough to get to the controller. I’d asked Julie to loan me her wireless version of my RVP, but she’d laughed and said that having a wire and control box would humiliate me even more. So I exposed an unseemly amount of leg and plucked the purple controller out from under one of the straps of the butterfly itself and quickly thumbed both sliders downward. The little lights went out and I sighed in relief as the churning and shaking stopped.
“I’ve reconsidered,” Alissa suddenly said. “We can go someplace private to put on the alligator clamps,” she said. She stood up and was clearly waiting for me to follow. I tucked the RVP controller back under the strap and rose slowly, picking up my purse from the floor at the same time. I ran a hand down the dress, trying to force the hem lower but all it did was stretch the material over my breasts and threaten to expose them. I slid my hand to the back and winced as I felt the wetness. A glance down at the chair confirmed it and I grimaced.
“You okay?” Alissa asked, showing genuine concern.
I glanced back at her and nodded. “I’m just…” I paused and glanced around. I was clearly the center of attention. People everywhere were looking at me. Some, the closest, clearly seemed to know what I’d just done and were waiting for my other breast to pop out. Others, further out, just looked on in mixture of longing or disdain. I felt the flush of heat on my cheeks.  “Totally embarrassed.”
Alissa took my hand and squeezed it. “Good. You should be.” Then she led me away.
“What’s the matter?” Alissa asked, popping a French fry into her mouth. “Not hungry?”
I sat across from her at the table she’d selected. We were at one of Houston’s more fashionable chain burger joints and the rock ‘n’ roll paraphernalia that dominated the decor gave the place a decidedly sixties feel. Music played loudly and for that I was grateful, since it meant that not even I could hear the muted roar of the RVP swirling and churning around inside me. I felt it of course, the incessant buzzing against my clit, the purple butterfly toy set to full power again. My pussy spasmed around the silicon probe that stirred me like a pot of boiling pasta, waiting for me to froth and bubble over. I stared down at my burger, which I hadn’t even touched, despite being hungry, and felt my bottom lip tremble. Alissa glanced down at her phone, which was sitting on the table.
“Wow. You’re just four minutes in and already incapable of speech,” she observed. Her eyes sparkled. “Is it the RVP quivering in your cute little pussy, or is it the alligator clamps?”
I glanced down at my chest. The dress did absolutely nothing to hide the outlines and shadow of the alligator clamps. Both steel pincers were hanging from my nipples downward, tightly chewing on the tips of each breast. Alissa had waited till we’d parked before reaching over and pulling down the front of my dress. Both breasts fell out easily, hanging high, supported by the bunched up material. But Alissa didn’t just put the clamps on. No. She’d bent over and began licking each nipple in turn, hardening them until each one was puckered and wanting, before she attached each toothed clamp. It was both wonderful and excruciating and I moaned loudly when she’d done it.
“Both,” I said softly, acutely aware of both the pain and the pleasure streaming from separate parts of my body.
Alissa nodded. “Just sixteen minutes to go. Do you think you’ll cum again? After all, it’s only been about thirty minutes since your last explosion at the mall.”
I took a deep breath, cautiously of course, one that was laced with the harsh sting of the clamps and picked up my burger. Concentrating on eating actually seemed to help and I took a huge bite and began chewing methodically, even as the RVP spun and danced between my legs. Alissa watched with amusement as I tried to eat and fuck the machine strapped to my pussy at the same time, all without anyone knowing that was what I was doing.
“So, how are things with Julie?” She asked me a moment later.
I put down my burger and took a sip of my Diet Coke. “She’s fucking Mike.”
Alissa laughed and rolled her eyes. “Well yeah. Who doesn’t want to fuck Mike? I mean even I’ve had the pleasure of that man’s....” Her voice trailed off when she saw my face.
“What do you mean?” She asked suddenly.
My pussy tightened around the RVP as I answered. “She’s doing him when I’m not there is what I mean.”
Alissa blinked. “Oh. So she’s having him on the side?”
I nodded, resisting the urge to rock back and forth.
“I caught them two Saturdays ago when I showed up early for some playtime with her,” I said, my voice just a tad bit strained. “They were in the middle of it, and I think Julie might have been tied down.”
That made Alissa blink. “Wow. Really?”
I nodded. “Later, when they had me on the coffee table, she rode the wooden pony she’s got.”
Alissa’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow. That’s really… um… is she allowed to do that?” Alissa asked curiously. “I mean, she’s a dominatrix for the Society. If they find out she’s submitting to a man…”
I shrugged, which made the alligator clamps shift inside my dress. Fresh shards of pain shot through both boobs, but instead of going up to my brain, the sensation got lost, headed down to my pussy, frolicked and played with the throbbing and stirring toy between my legs, and only then decided to inform my brain that two metal, toothed vices were slowly biting off each nipple. I let out a soft groan.
“You look like you’re ready to cum again,” Alissa observed.
I swallowed hard. “I can’t… you know… take the RVP for very long. Not only full power.”
She glanced back down at her phone. “You’ve done just about ten minutes. Halfway there.”
I bit my bottom lip. I could feel the pressure building. There was no way I was going to make it ten more minutes. Five maybe. Ten? Impossible. The extra five minutes that had been added to the time limit thanks to the orgasm in the food court basically made enduring the RVP impossible.
“You know what I wish I could do to you right now?” Alissa said softly. “Put my hand between your legs and push the RVP tighter against your pussy.” Our eyes met and I let out a soft gasp as she picked up her burger, licking her lips seductively. She took a big bite a bit of mayonnaise ended up on her lip. She licked it off.
Oh my.
My bottom lip trembled and for a moment I didn’t know if I was going to cry or scream. My nipples throbbed angrily underneath my dress, pressed tight against the material. My clit felt like it had been glued to a hand mixer set to level six and pressed into whipping up a batch of cookies. Oh… and the bowl? Yep. Me. And trust me, I could feel that beater going around inside me, churning the butter and mixing it with the sugar and…
I looked up at Alissa as the trembling started.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. Then the orgasm started. My mouth came open and a long, low cry escaped my attempts to stifle it. Fireworks were essentially going off between my legs and the amount of adrenaline rushing through my veins was enough to power that rocket right up to the ceiling. The orgasm in the mall was nothing compared to this one, which felt twice as powerful. Already I was drawing unwanted attention as I wrapped my arms around my torso and tried to control the shakes. My hips began jerking frantically as I fucked the stupid RVP rhythmically. The desire to reach up, tug the front of my dress down, and twist the alligator clamps was almost more than I could handle.
Across from me Alissa ate and watched as if there was nothing wrong with the redhead slut seated across from her. I could have been going into anaphylactic shock and she was just observing, like it was a fucking Sunday matinee. I let out close lipped wail that was reasonable muted by my clenched teeth and realized I was slipping from my seat. I caught myself, but hit the crest of my climax right at that moment, my back arching slightly as my pelvis tilted forward radically. This time the surge of wetness soaked my thighs and I held onto the table like a lifeline. The world around me faded as my body surged and ebbed like the tide, thrusting and pumping and wanting and cumming.
Finally the pressure went away and I looked up through a few locks of my hair to see Alissa smiling at me. Behind her were a group of men eating lunch together, all of them staring at me, while to the side a couple gave me intrigued looks. I looked down and sure enough, both my breasts had fallen out of the damn bodice again. I let out a low toned gasp and pulled up on the front of my dress, yanking the material up to cover my clamped tits.
“Can we leave? Please?” I begged, totally mortified.
Alissa frowned. “You’ve barely eaten your burger though! And you still need to turn off the RVP, don’t you?”
I nodded, but almost imperceptibly. I was almost willing to leave it on, just so I didn’t have to go digging for the damn controller. But after about ten additional seconds I needed it off so I slipped my hand up along my right leg, up under the hem of the dress, until I found the damn thing. I didn’t bother pulling it from the strap. Instead I just swept the sliders downward. The RVP went silent inside me and I couldn’t help vocalizing a small moan.
Alissa leaned forward, her voice barely intelligible under the music. “Look around Bre. Some of these guys saw your tits and they’re all staring at you. I wonder how many know what you just did and how many only suspect? And what about the ones who were further away and just saw you sway? How many men here want to see those alligator clamps again? How many women? I know I do!” She licked her lips. “And to think, you had another orgasm. That means another five minutes added, right?” Her smile got bigger. “And that other thing. What’s it called? A Thrusting Anal Vibrator? You’re going to let me slowly push that into your bottom, right?”
I took a ragged breath. “You want to try this sometime?” I replied weakly. The very thought of having the Thrusting Anal Vibe being pushed up my bottom, by Alissa or anyone, was not something I wanted to dwell on.
Alissa’s eyebrow went up. “Alright. Tell you what. If you manage to get through just ten measly minutes on the next round, I’ll do it. You can stuff me with the RVP…”
“And the Thrusting Anal Vibe,” I said quickly. Her eyebrow went up. I could see she was actively considering it.
“Okay,” she replied, crossing her arms. “I’m game. I admit I’m a bit curious. Is it that different from a regular anal plug?”
I sighed. “You have no idea,” I muttered. I looked down, trying very hard to ignore the interest others were still expressing in me. I grabbed my burger and began devouring it, hoping that normal behavior would be less of an attractant.
It wasn’t.
“Oh God,” I said as Alissa parked the car. “Please. Not here!”
Alissa looked out the window and her brow narrowed. “Why not? It’s just a bar.”
I bit my lip. Yes. It was just a bar. But it was an upscale bar that I’d been to once before and I knew damned well that I’d made a complete and utter fool of myself that night. I still haven’t found the panties I’d been wearing.
“Please? Can we go somewhere else? Maybe back to the mall?” I pleaded, shifting uncomfortably. The Thrusting Anal Vibrator was off and unmoving but the fact that I still had a six and a half inch long, two inch thick phallus jammed up my rear end made sitting just a bit of a challenge.
Alissa took a deep breath and then shook her head. “No. Kari specifically said we were to go to this bar, so this is it. You’ll just have to deal with it.” She put the car in park and hopped out. I sat there for a moment, hoping she’d go in by herself, but she put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot expectantly. Finally I climbed out.
“You do realize that the longer you wait, the more likely you’ll explode, right?” She demanded.
I nodded bitterly.
“Don’t you want me to have to wear the RVP?”
I glanced at her. “And the Thrusting Anal Vibe.”
She sighed. “Right. And the Thrusting Anal Vibe.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Yes. I do. But…”
She took my hand and dragged me in.
The inside of the bar was dark and cool and felt luxurious. It was early afternoon so there weren’t exactly a lot of people in the place. The kitchen served sandwiches and there were two guys playing pool, both of whom eyed Alissa and me like sharks do wounded seals. Alissa ignored them and we found seats at the bar.
“What can I get for you two ladies?” Asked the barkeeper, a very good looking brunette wearing a halter top that actually made my dress and bulging chest look somewhat normal.
Alissa smiled. “I’ll have Sex on the Beach please,” she said.
I blinked. “I’m assuming that’s a drink?” I asked. The bartender laughed.
“Absolutely,” the brunette said, nodding toward Alissa. “Vodka, Peach schnapps, cranberry and orange juice.”
I sighed. “Of course. It does sound good.” Alissa grinned at me.
“Want one?”
“Sure. I’ll give it a try.”
The bartender moved away to assemble what she’d need for our drinks and Alissa turned toward me. “I think now is an appropriate moment to turn everything on.”
I blinked. “Shouldn’t we wait for our drinks?” I asked, glancing around.
Alissa laughed. “No sweetie. You’re so tense you’re vibrating and you don’t even have the RVP on. So either you turn it on or I will.” I nodded and ran my hand up the side of my dress. “And don’t forget to turn on the anal thing either.”
I gave her a sharp glare, but didn’t say anything. Instead I focused on getting my hand up the side of my dress. I turned on my bar stool to make sure the two guys who were now only sort of paying attention to their pool game didn’t get too good a look at my leg. My fingers found the RVP controller first and my eyes met Alissa’s as I slid both control pegs upward. I didn’t need to look down at the little led lights glowing on the box. I could feel the motors spin up, churning and buzzing inside me. I let out a tiny gasp and felt my loins tighten.
“I love that look,” Alissa said, leaning close.
“What look?” I asked breathlessly.
She grinned. “The one you get when the RVP starts up, especially when it’s been off for a moment.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “Turn it off again.”
Since my hand was still on the controller, I pushed the sliders back down until the corkscrew action of the four inch cock stilled and the vibration motor went silent. I nodded at her. “Okay, it's off.”
She put her hand on mine and the bartender came back with our drinks. I took a sip. Admittedly, “Sex on the Beach” was pretty good. I still prefer a Celtic Creamsicle, but I could definitely do with more sex on the beach in my life. I drank a bit more, feeling the cold liquor slide down my throat.
“Now,” Alissa said. “Turn it on to full. Now.”
The bartender looked at her peculiarly. “Turn what on to full?” She asked.
Alissa smiled. “Oh, Breanne’s sex toy. She’s stuffed.”
I went scarlet as the brunette’s eyebrow went up and she turned and looked at me. For a moment our eyes met and I wondered if I were about to get thrown out of the establishment. Again.
“Go ahead,” the bartender said with a smirk, her eyes dancing. “I like watching a pretty redhead squirm and this place has had its share.”
I think my cheeks matched my hair.
My bottom lip got caught in my teeth, but my hand moved back to my leg, pulling up the side of the dress until I found the controller again. With a sweep of my fingers the RVP roared back to life and Alissa giggled as that same expression of lust and mortification crossed my face.
“Wow, she’s really doing it, isn’t she?” The bartender asked, her brunette locks bobbing sweetly around her face. She was much closer to Alissa’s age than mine and my companion nodded.
“She’s a nympho humiliation pain slut,” Alissa said conversationally. Then she turned to me. “Don’t forget the Thrusting Anal Vibrator, Bre. Turn that on too.”
My eyes widened and if I could have turned a darker shade of scarlet I would have. She had to say it in front of the bartender? Trembling from a mixture of intense sexual stimulation and utter shame, I found the second controller jammed into the straps of the RVP. I pushed a few buttons and a moment later the thick, uncomfortable, deep penetrating, alien like cock, began shaking in my ass. Then it extended an additional inch, thrusting higher into my back end like some sort of sick worm. I gasped, my eyes widening at the dual and conflicting sensations and I grabbed the edge of the bar to keep my balance.
“Thrusting Anal Vibrator?” The bartender asked, clearly intrigued. Alissa nodded.
“It’s actually kind of neat,” Alissa explained, turning away. “It’s like this alien cock, all black and slick and with strange edges. And it will literally fuck you. It extends like two whole inches inside you, all while it’s vibrating.”
“Really?” The bartender looked skeptical. “What does it feel like?”
Alissa opened her mouth, but then she blushed. “I’ve never had it in me before.”
“Yet,” I muttered under strain. I could feel the sexual pressure building. “I hope you’re keeping time.” The conflicting speeds of the motor buried in my lower half was making it difficult to even sit still. I felt like ants were crawling around in my panties. If I’d been wearing panties.
Alissa’s eyes widened and she gave me a chagrinned look, only to pull her phone out. “Nine minutes left,” she said with acknowledgement. “But you still have to endure twenty-five.”
“Or what?” Asked the bartender.
Alissa laughed. “There is no ‘what’. Even if she cums she has to leave it on for twenty-five minutes. That’s the point.”
“Even if she’s sensitive?” The bartender exclaimed.
“Yes. She’s a nympho humiliation pain slut. See the alligator clamps on her nipples?”
The bartender nodded. “I noticed them when y’all sat down actually. I thought it was just decorative jewelry.”
Alissa laughed. “Hardly.” Then to my shock, she reached across, grabbed the front of my dress, and pulled downward. Both breasts exploded out of the material, the steel alligator clamps jerking as my boobs jiggled with freedom.
“Ooohhh!” The bartender laughed as I cried out, my arms coming up, trying to stuff myself back in. I didn’t look behind me at the two men playing pool until I’d managed to get it all back in. They were clearly curious, but evidently hadn’t seen anything.
“Alissa!” I hissed.
The bartender laughed. “Oh please, feel free to let them hang out. I don’t mind,” she said with a smoldering look.
That would have made me blush. If I wasn’t already doing it. Right down to the tips of my breasts.
Alissa looked out across the bar. “Hey. Why don’t we ask those two guys if they want to play pool with us?”
I gave her a horrified look. “What? Are you kidding me? In my condition? I can’t even stand,” I whispered urgently. Stand? Hell. I couldn’t even sit still! My lower half was jerking and trembling and my ass probably looked like a bowl of jelly on top of a washing machine on spin cycle. In fact, despite the fact that I’d cum, not once but twice in the last two hours, having the bloody Thrusting Anal Vibe trying to mash my colon into sexual mush along with the stirring shimmy of the Rotating Venus Penis was forcing me up that metaphorical mountain of orgasmic pleasure a hell of a lot faster than I’d expected.
“Can I see your alligator clamps again?” The bartender asked sweetly.
My eyes widened. Alissa looked at me expectantly. I glanced back at the pool guys. They were still glancing over at us, but I could turn my back to them. Slowly I twisted in the stool again until I was facing the mirrored back of the bar itself. I reached up and gingerly took hold of the front of my dress and pulled down and outward. A half second later my boobs had popped completely out of the open front, the nipples dark pink and throbbing. Each gold piercing was sticking straight out due to the pressure of the clamps. I kept hold of my dress, expecting to have to cover up immediately.
“Put your hands down in your lap,” Alissa told me. “Don’t be so panicky. She told you it was okay.”
The bartender nodded. “Like I said, you aren’t the first girl to bare herself in this place,” she said, winking. “There’s a wall in the men’s restroom with pictures and a trophy.” She shook her head. “It’s embarrassing.”
I sat there, shuddering, my boobs hanging out. I could see them in the reflection of the bar mirror and the steel clamps looked engaging. The bartender reached out and put a delicate finger on my left nipple, her nail grazing the distended and crushed tip.
“It looks so pretty like that,” she said softly. Her nail moved across the nipple and down the curve of my breast, then back up to the clamp itself. “So, so sweet…” she said, then began wiggling the clamp.
Shards of white hot ecstasy shot up through my chest. Or at least, I think it was ecstasy. I might be wrong. All of the nerve impulses coming from my breasts, sex, and ass were just a bit confused and my overwhelmed brain sort of jumbled all of them together in a single stew and so I just let out a sweet groan, arched my back, put my hands in my lap and basically offered to let the bartender play with my tits to her heart’s content.
“Six minutes left,” Alissa said as I shuddered. I was basically a mercury thermometer and the redline was going up and up. I’m not sure if Alissa meant I’d been enduring for six minutes, or that I had six minutes to go. And there was no way I was close to my twenty-five minute limit.
Then the bartender reached over with her other hand and began wiggling the second alligator clamp. Six minutes might as well been six hundred. It didn’t matter anymore. I put both hands down on the counter, my mouth open as I swooned with a massive surge of pleasure, my entire body tingling. My lower half was twisting and jacking around in the stool and then Alissa put her arms around me, one between my legs. I could feel the incessant push of the anal vibrator, jamming itself seemingly deeper and deeper, then the pressure of the RVP against my sopping wet petals. I spread my thighs instinctively and her hand went up under the hem of my dress, pressing against the RVP.
I cried out, lost in the throes of the orgasm, clinging to Alissa as the bartender flicked and twisted the alligator clamps. My vision went white, then red, and my heart seemed to hammer in my chest. I could feel my pulse surging into my clit, through the tips of my breasts, and every part of me seemed to tighten.
“Oh my God!” I said loudly, my voice tight and strained. “I’m cumming!”
The next minute was a rollercoaster. When it ended I felt like I’d been dunked in a cold lake, flung against a brick wall, wrung out, then stretched over a line to bake in the sun. I shuddered against Alissa, grabbing hold of her as I lost control. My brain swam in a soup of endorphins and oxytocin, adrenaline, and dopamine, every little chemical designed to make me feel so good that I’d be willing to do this all over again, over and over. I let out a satisfied moan as that wave of euphoria came down on me. I was a junkie with her fix and the fact that my boobs were hanging out, clamped with toothed steel, or that my butt was jammed full a pulsing, thrusting banana sized phallus was just the icing on the cake. Alissa’s hand stayed between my legs, moving in a tiny circle, pushing the RVP against my pussy in waves of sweet bliss.
“See? I knew I wouldn’t have to wear the RVP. Or put that thrusting thing in my ass,” she said in my ear. “You just can’t help yourself! And look, you’ve still got another twenty-one minutes of torment to deal with.”
I let out a half-choked sob but it sounded more like hysteria. I’m not sure. Alissa gave me a hug and turned to the bartender. “Do you want her first?”
The stunning brunette gave Alissa a curious look. “Want her first?”
Alissa nodded. “Because I’m about to offer the two gentlemen down there Breanne blowjobs. So if you want first dibs you better take her.”
The bartender grinned, locked up the register and hurried out from around the bar. She was wearing this cute little black skirt and she took my hand, pulling me from the stool. “Keep an eye on things,” she told Alissa. Then led me stumbling through the bar. I didn’t even realize my breasts, bare, clamped, and totally exposed were still on view and it wasn’t until I saw the astonished and grinning expression of the two men at the pool table that it occurred to me. Then the bartender pulled me into the girl’s bathroom.
I wish I could remember her name and I feel kind of bad that I can’t. But I can remember the taste of her, the scent of her skin, the texture of her pussy. She kept herself trimmed with just a small bush, but burying my nose in her wetness was enough to help me ignore the incessant stimulation, the agitating fermentation of my pussy juices. By the time she stiffened and cried out, her hand on the back of my head, holding me tighter between her open thighs, pumping her hips, another ten minutes had passed. She let me go, a sigh of satisfaction on her lips, clearly enjoying the same drug that I craved constantly.
“We need more redheads in the world,” she said softly. She lifted her leg and swung it over my head, then began pulling her panties back on. I sat down on the floor of the bathroom and looked around, feeling the burgeoning pressure of the sexual torment. The Thrusting Anal Vibe seemed to be driving deeper into my bottom. The bathroom walls were covered with framed pictures of mostly naked men. Very attractive, muscular, iron pumping men. There were bulging crotch pictures too. I let out a soft, manic laugh.
The bartender stood up and managed to get her skirt back in place. “Come on, Breanne. Your friend is waiting.” She pulled me to my feet and I felt my knees buckle. The waves coming from the RVP were not sweet bliss, not any more. There was a cruel intensity too it, like the tiniest bit of rug burn, of irritation. She pulled me forward and out of the bathroom and I stumbled back out into the bar.
“Oh! There she is!” Alissa said. She was standing next to one of the pool guys, her hand actually down the front of his trousers. “Guess you earned that blowjob,” she said wickedly. I blinked as she drew her hands out of his pants. His face was red and he looked like he was about to have a coronary. He grinned at me and handed Alissa his pool stick. Then he came straight at me.
I gave her just a single, frustrated glance before I was firmly, but gently escorted to a different restroom. He pushed me into a stall, sat me down on the toilet, and a moment later his thick cock was hitting my cheek. I opened my mouth and began sucking, swirling my tongue around as my hips jerked and fluttered and my ass tightened around the thrusting anal vibrator.  It only took five or six minutes and I realized that Alissa must have been prepping him for me, rubbing him just enough to get him ready to pop. Talk about sweet. A moment later he exploded, sending ribbons of white cream down my throat as I gagged and slurped, swallowing every bit I could.
“Now stay here, Breanne.” He zipped himself up. “My friend will be here in a moment.” He glanced down at my breasts and grabbed one of the alligator clamps, giving it a little twist. I groaned and cupped my boobs, leaning back. “God yes. You like that? You are such a pain slut!” Then he laughed and walked out. I was left alone for maybe fifteen seconds, which seemed like a long time when all you’ve got to measure it with is the beat of your heart, felt through the crushed tips of your breasts. Then his friend came in and we went with round two. He opted to empty his balls on my breasts, leaving a white gooey slick flowing down my cleavage, the tip of his cock smearing the jism across the slopes. I sighed and he smiled down on me.
“Your friend said that when you’re done blowing me you can turn off the toys. If you want.” He adjusted his pants and smiled down on me. “You are a great cock-sucker. Thanks for the blow.”
“Thank you, sir.” It came out as a tight whimper since the toys were getting to me. I wasn’t sure if I needed it all to stop, or for me to explode one more time. He nodded and turned, leaving me alone in the bathroom.
I turned off the toys, then sighed in relief. I used the tissue paper from the roll to wipe my breasts as clean as possible, even going up under the dress to get the stuff that had leaked down to my belly. Finally I felt human again and I opened the stall door. The bathroom was decorated in pictures of women, most of them in varying stages of undress. Most I recognized. They were famous celebrities and some of the shots appeared to come from certain magazines that will remain nameless. I frowned, shaking my head, and turned to the door. That’s when I froze. There were five pictures, all framed, hanging on the back of the door, surrounding a pair of blue lace panties. The pictures were all taken inside the bar. Each frame was filled with the crowd, and the shots were a bit blurry, but in the very center, a thin, redheaded girl was on her back, lying on one of the pool tables, her head near one edge, sucking cock, while one of the men had stuck the end of his pool stick into her exposed slit. You couldn’t really see her face. Another shot was of her bending over, taking someone’s dick from the rear, while her tongue lapped at the head of another penis. The fourth was of her sitting naked in some guy’s lap, her bare bottom exposed, her hands held above her head, while her breasts were slapped back and forth. And the last? Clover clamps. Her face was turned away and her tits filled the frame. My mouth went dry as I saw the single hoop piercing the girl’s right nipple, a small gold padlock dangling from it.

I pushed open the door and found Alissa waiting for me. She gave me a warm smile and then wrapped her arms around me.

“How do you feel?”

I blinked. “Good,” I said honestly. “Thanks.”

She took my hand and led me back up to the bar where the cute brunette gave me a wink. I waved at her and then Alissa and I were back out in the afternoon sunshine. We walked to her car and she gave me another appreciative grin.

“That was spectacular. You are amazing. You know that?” She asked.

I nodded.

We climbed into the car and she gave me a curious look. “You seem a bit… weirded out. Are you sure you’re okay.”

I looked up at her and gave her a weak smile. “Yea. I’m just…” Then I shrugged and sighed.
“I found my panties.”

Hey Bre, your next assignment, should you choose to accept it, is simple. You'll start with your RVP. Off. Wear something only barely acceptable for being in public. I want you to draw attention. Everyone should be staring at you. High heels please. Find a public location, like a mall, restaurant, or bar. Go in, sit down, and turn on the RVP, both functions, full power. Keep it on until you've either cum or fifteen minutes has passed. Once you've completed this task once, do it twice more in different locations. Additionally, if you DO cum before the allotted time, you will apply a pair of alligator clamps to your nipples and add five minutes to the next "endurance" time. A second orgasm will result in an additional five minutes and your Thrusting Anal Vibe in your bottom. Enjoy - Brandon