Saturday, October 13, 2018

Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 17 NOW AVAILABLE!

Bondage, discipline, masochism, humiliation - it's all just a way for a South Texas redhead to get the sort of orgasms she craves. Breanne is a nympho humiliation pain slut, tasked by her mistresses Kari and Julie into a series of escapades that will have you laughing, and... other things. Read Bre's erotic, diary-like confessions as she struggles to sate her addiction to orgasm!

Friday, September 14, 2018

Advise & Consent

“I think I'm going to cum,” I blurted out, my face reddening as Kari looked up. She had been studying an all-leather sofa that had a nine thousand dollar price tag and the look of both pleasure at my predicament, and irritation at the interruption, made my insides tighten up in trepidation. I stood there like a bug under a microscope, my arms crossed over my chest, my hips shaking as the vibroballs rolled, rattled, and rocked inside me. The tiny motors had been set to high ever since we'd entered the luxury furniture store and over the last thirty minutes I'd spent the time resisting the siren call of orgasm, all while working to mitigate the lustful gaze of the salesman hovering thirty feet away. He'd kept a respectful distance, clearly wanting to be on hand in case Kari had a question or elected to purchase something. But I suspected his other goal was to keep the delicious eye candy in sight. And it sure as hell wasn’t Kari he was staring at hungrily.

“I would advise against it, unless you want to be punished,” Kari said in a light, but firm voice. I had little doubt the salesman heard her. But at that particular moment, considering the tension and pressures being inflicted upon me, I didn't really care. Bad enough I was waltzing around with my breasts barely covered, the peasant blouse hanging from a single elastic strand wrapped around my torso, but the blue denim skirt was too short to cover my bottom properly. Kari had been taking outrageous advantage of the fact, ordering me to sit down on over a dozen couches, in various positions, giving our audience frequent opportunities to glimpse my shaved, slick, slit.

I glared at her. Punished? Seriously? I tried to keep the frustration and tension out of my voice, but it still came across as a short hiss. “Want?” I demanded. I glanced back at the salesclerk and took a few steps closer to lessen the chances of being overheard. “You're the one who turned the vibroballs to high! How is it my fault I'm close to cumming?”

“Not close enough to prevent you from complaining I notice,” she sniffed. She pushed her glasses down and looked at me over the rim. “Breanne, it is my prerogative to inflict any state of sexual arousal upon you I wish, for whatever length of time I desire. In addition, I have de facto right to require whatever stipulations I can think of. Right now I wish you to be insanely aroused, humiliated by your attire, paraded around in public, flashing your sexual bits, on the verge of cumming. Should you feel that you are unable to meet these requirements then you will not only be subjected to the forthcoming punishment, but will do so willingly and cheerfully, as a proper nympho humiliation pain slut should.”

It was quite the speech. I sort of listened to it. But when she was done I stood there, frozen for a moment. She gave me a peculiar look, as if she were expecting me to mouth off, or say something sarcastic. Instead I closed my eyes, shuddered, pressed a hand to sex, and popped.

“Oh my God,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I'm cumming.”

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but I'd grown accustomed to being forced to announce my sexual climaxes in an embarrassing and public fashion. I felt a surge of wetness that soaked my thighs and my heart seemed to race. I gripped the back of the leather sofa as I swayed, my body reacting to the influx of delicious, all natural chemicals that reward the psyche upon sexual release.

I admit it. I'm an addict.

“And thus the punishment, “ said Kari in satisfaction.

It took me maybe thirty seconds to collect myself and I glanced back at the salesman. He was Indian, his thick, dark hair shiny and black. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat too and I couldn't help wondering just how much he had picked up on from thirty feet away. Kari studied me for a moment, then nodded.

“I think a spanking is appropriate,” she stated.

That snapped me out of my euphoria. “What?” I gasped, my pussy tightening around the vibroballs which were still trembling violently.  

Kari smiled. “Yes. A decent hand spanking. With the appropriate accoutrements.”

Spankings are not my favorite thing to endure. First of all, there were some specific rules involved. My mouth went dry. Tears welled up in my eyes as I contemplated the utter humiliation and discomfort headed my way. Kari opened her large purse and reached in. Her hand came back out clutching a purple plastic pendant, which was attached to a rubber tipped clip.

“Here, put this on,” she said, handing me the tiny vibrator.

I took it gingerly, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to attach the damn thing to my clit without the sales clerk seeing. Kari turned away from me.


The salesclerk hurried forward. “Yes, Ms.Anders?”

“I know we’ve taken much of your time, but I have an additional favor to ask.”

Ashok grinned. “Anything for you Ms.Anders. You are one of our best customers,” Ash insisted, giving me a sideways glance.

Kari smiled at him patiently. “”I'm afraid my assistant has been a bit naughty, and is in need of punishment. I believe a spanking is appropriate under the circumstances. Do you mind if we do it right here?”

Ashok grinned and gave me a lecherous look. The heavy knot in my tummy flipped a few times.

“Excellent,” stated Kari, taking the man’s expression as approval. She waved her hand at me. “Well? Don't just stand there. Put it on.” Her eyes flitted down to the vibrator pendant in my hand.

For a moment panic almost overwhelmed me, but then the cold steely gaze of her stare steadied me. I didn't turn toward Ash, but I didn't turn away either. I lifted the hem of my skirt, looked down at my pink, soaked slit, and tried to keep my hand from shaking as I put on the vibrator pendant. The clamp pinched down on my clitoral hood and the bite of it was intense. Then I flipped the tiny switch on the pendant, activating it. The motor inside spun to life and the cylindrical weight tugged on my clit with unwholesome insistence. A fresh surge of sexual need flashed through me, making my pussy tighten.

“Hmmm…” Kari hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think Ash? Should she bend over the arm of the sofa? Or should she put her hands on the coffee table?”

Ash looked at the peasant blouse covering my top. “I believe the coffee table would be better, Ms.Anders,” He replied succinctly.  

Kari smiled. “Of course. It’s lower. Go ahead Bre. You're a bad little girl. Spread your legs, bend over the table, and brace yourself.”

The vibrating pendant added a whole new aspect to the various sexual sensations I was experiencing. Embarrassed at my predicament, not to mention having this done to me in front of the furniture sales guy, my quivering slit seemed to gush. With short, shallow breaths, I stepped up to the coffee table, spread my legs unwholesomely wide, and then bent over at the waist, placing both hands on the dark oak surface.

Physics being what they are, my clothes responded predictably. My skirt rode upward, thanks to my widened stance, exposing my lush, spankable bottom and pendant clamped clit. My dripping slit was also in view, though only from the backside. My breasts fell downward, as did the vallance-like material of the peasant blouse. Now both creamy, full, globes were visible, the pierced tips glinting with gold. The small, gold padlock dangling from the right nipple swung delicately.

“Ashok? Would you mind putting these on her nipples?” Kari asked, pulling a pair of clover clamps from her purse. Each had a half pound weight attached to the end. Ash’s face brightened and he took them from Kari, then rounded the coffee table to sit on the sofa, inches away from my dangling breasts. He reached up, caressing my breasts, squeezing me softly, for just a moment.

“Make sure the clamps go on her nipples,” Kari warned. “And not her piercings. This is supposed to be a punishment. It should hurt.”

Ash nodded. “Of course. I understand.” I.closed my eyes, a nervous shudder flowing through me. I felt his hands touching my breasts, moving. Then there was cold steel. I gasped.  A biting pain seemed to explode at the tip of my left tit, the clover clamp pinching behind the piercing. Ash gave it an experimental tug, tightening the mechanism, so that along with the humiliation of exposure, and the weight of the assorted hardware, I also had the pressure of the clamp biting at my flesh. I whimpered. Loudy.

He liked that, and began to fasten the other clover clamp.

Kari, in the meantime, had come around to my rump. Her light, thin fingers flipped the denim material of my skirt even higher, baring my entire ass. She rubbed my bottom deftly as Ashok finished with the second nipple clamp. Then, with my nipples and clit throbbing, under the thrilled inspection of a man I'd never before met, stuffed to the gills with vibroballs, and already heavily aroused as my body, heart, and mind was forced right back up the sexual orgasm mountain,  I closed my eyes and did as Kari advised.

I braced myself.

Kari used her bare hand. The stinging slaps cracked against my flesh. Each blow rocked me forward, forcing my breasts to swing. The clamps and weights became pendulums, not just tugging and pinching on the tender tips of my bosom, but twisting my nipples back and forth as Kari spanked me. It made the spanking hurt not just my bottom, but my nipples, and clit too. The sting became heat as Kari reddened my ass, changing creamy white to flushed pink. Soon I was whimpering, hips churning as I struggled with the pain. As I moved, the pendant vibrator did as the nipple clamps, twisting and pulling, the oscillations of the pendant going up to the clamp chewing on my clit, leaving me breathless with desire, hurting in ways I'd only imagined a few minutes before.

One hard last slap made me cry out. Then Kari rubbed her hand over my butt, helping to ease the searing heat as my head hung in misery. I hurt. I burned. I needed. I wanted to cum again. Even if it meant another spanking.

“There we are,” Kari seemed to coo. “A nice, cooked little ass. That will make you think twice about cumming again, won't it?”

“Yes Mistress,” I blubbered, sniffling.

“Now while I finish looking at sofas, you can properly thank Ashok for helping you suffer.”

I glanced at Ash, who grinned at me, pleased with how things were going. I moaned and straightened up. The peasant blouse fell back down over my breasts, but the clamps and weights hung low across my bare midriff, fully visible beneath the hem of the shirt, still tormenting me. The vibrator pendant came to rest against my petals, driving me even closer to climax. Kari looked at me, saw the raw passion on my face and grinned. I was about to ask her for permission to remove the clamps, to end the bitter ache at the tip of each breast, when she reached out and lifted one weight, the one dangling from my left side, which made my crushed nipple throb with heat.

“Do a good job thanking him, and I will consider removing the nipple clamps. Maybe even turning down the vibrators.”

We stared at each other for a moment as I suffered for her. Then I bowed my head in acquiescence. I was here for her pleasure. It was her prerogative to keep me hurting and wanting, to torment and use me. And if she wanted me on the cusp of cumming as I sucked Ash’s cock, my breasts clamped, weighted, and aching; my pussy stuffed, tingling, and buzzing; my ass red and tender, then there was just one thing I felt needed clarification. One minor little issue that needed resolution. I swallowed hard; timid, and scared of the answer I expected.

“What if… what if I'm about to cum?” I asked timidly, my hips already rolling, rocking, and rattling. My clit throbbed with sensation.

Kari smiled.

“I would advise against it, unless you want to be punished,” she replied, repeating herself from earlier. She glanced down at Ash. “Breanne is not permitted to cum, Ash. So keep a close eye on her. If she chooses to be a bad little girl and violate my rules a second time, the next spanking she receives will be over your lap.” The man looked shocked, but then smiled. Kari kissed me, softly, on the lips.

“Have fun and be good,” she said, then turned around and walked away. I turned and looked at Ash, then sank down to my knees. I lifted my peasant blouse, showing him my clamped breasts.

“Sir? May I please suck your cock?” I said it pleadingly, desperately, as my pussy tightened in rapid pulses. The vibroballs seemed to buzz madly. Ash smiled, already unbuckling his pants. I bent down, wrapping my mouth around his cock. He moaned, the guided my head up and down as I bobbed and licked, sucked and teased, suffered, burned and then....

I came up long enough to blurt out just one simple phrase.

“Oh God. “I'm cumming!”

If you enjoyed this erotic tale, then you might consider supporting Breanne’s endeavors, by purchasing her books! Available in e-book format from, Breanne Erickson’s “Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut” series is one of the most highly rated extreme BDSM erotica collections. Check out her amazing work at  

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Wet - Conclusion

This is a multi-part story and needs to be read in order. Please check out Part 1 and 2, along with Parts 3,4, and 5 , and then Part 6 and 7 before you read this section! 


I stepped out into the warm, south Texas summer night and sighed in relief. The heat enveloped me and I stretched out my arms, soaking it up. While the steak and salad had been delicious, I'd been seated under an air conditioning vent and even when Mike the Hardware Guy had graciously switched seats with me, the ambient air temperature had left me feeling like a popsicle. My nipples were hardened little pebbles under the peasant blouse and even my piercings felt cold. I'd frozen my ass off the entire time. I waddled a few more steps forward as Julie, and then Mike, joined me on the sidewalk, their arms linked, watching as I moved uncomfortably forward. Even they seemed to appreciate the warmth.

"Well, that was a good meal," Mike said conversationally as we headed toward his truck. Julie and he were in lock step, looking casual, while I adopted this strange, rolling gait. I could feel the rough hemp rope rubbing at all the wrong… I mean right places. It was still threaded through the crack of my ass, between my legs, and then up against my clit. It was also wrapped around the head of the screw dildo, holding the majority of the thirteen inch monstrosity in my pussy. Sitting on it had been uncomfortable and I'd shifted constantly during the hour we were eating. That had caused the rope to rub at my perineum, my bottom, and against my clit, which drove me banana crackers. It also made the screw dildo move inside me. Not much, but enough that it had been like getting perpetually fucked, just a little. Had I not been so cold that my nipples were straining through the peasant blouse, I'd have been begging to get fucked again. And the waiter had ogled me.

But as the heat warmed me, the walk to Mike's truck had a predictable reaction. Wetness gushed between my legs, the dildo moved inside me, reacting to my walk, and the rope around my crotch added all sorts of interesting sensations to the mix. I had to resist thrusting my lips lewdly, knowing that anyone watching would guess instantly what was going on. I got to the truck first and tried not to pant. Julie eyed me like any predator sensing weakness in their prey.

"Awww. Is our little nympho humiliation pain slut horny?" She asked in a cute, pouty voice. Mike unlocked the door and let me climb into the back seat. Of course this flashed my ass to both of them, but neither took advantage. Then he let Julie in the front passenger seat. Dressed in skinny jeans and a country shirt, she looked heavenly. She grinned at me over her shoulder as Mike came around on the other side.

"Spread your legs wide," she ordered from the front seat. "Sit in the middle. And lift your shirt. Sluts like you should have their tits out."

I scooted over and opened my legs enough that skirt rode up to my waist, a thin denim line around my middle. The large head of the screw dildo stuck out obscenely from between my legs and I tilted my hips, just in case she wanted to reach back there and you know, pump it or something. Then I lifted the front of the peasant blouse, exposing my breasts. Mike glanced back and grinned.

"Damn that's nice. But they need clamps. Sweetie? Do you have any?"

Julie nodded and opened her purse. She rifled through it for a moment, then handed back a steel chain with two duckbilled clamps on it. "Put those on please," she told me. I sighed, but did as asked, wincing slightly as I closed the clamps on my nipples, behind the piercings, tightening the small screws until the pressure became pain. At least a little.

"Buckle up!" called out Mike as he started the engine.

I sat there, exposed and desperate as we drove away from the restaurant.

"Quite a day," Mike said, his eyes on the road, rather than on the mirror, which I appreciated from all sorts of safety standpoints. Julie laughed. "Well, it was for Bre." She looked back at me. "Do you realize you've fucked over a hundred inches of dildo today?"

I blinked. "Uh... one hundred and twenty-two inches. Oh. No. Wait." I redid the math. "One hundred and four," I amended.

Mike glanced back at me, curious. "What's with the eighteen inches?"

Julie pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Oh! The jelly dong! It's this double ended cock that Master Fred bought her a while back." She grinned. "Forgot about that one."

Mike nodded. “Sure. I remember now.” He glanced back at me in the mirror. “Doesn’t that one have to get bent in half and go in both holes?”

I shrugged. "I already did the double dildo. Besides, the point was to see if I still needed NHPS Rule #1..."

"And you do," declared Julie sternly. "Preferably with some sort of vibration function going at all times."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her. Mike laughed and patted her leg. "Now, now honey. Doing that to Bre would probably overwhelm her.

Julie snorted. "Yeah. As if."

"Still," Mike continued. "It would be a shame if Breanne didn't take it all. When we get back to the house, I suggest that you and Bre strip naked in the living room, and fuck both ends of that dildo."

"What?" Julie said in surprise. "Really?"

Mike nodded. I loved the idea and didn't say anything. "And the first one of you that cums gets ten strokes of the sap to your pussy, while the other gets my cock."

I  blinked. Wow. Oh. Wow. My sex tightened in spasmic rhythms. What to try for? I squirmed in my seat.

"In fact," Mike said. "Why wait? I think I'd much prefer riding home with both of you naked."

Julie turned her face to look at him and I could see her profile. "Mike, please?" She said softly. Mike glanced at her. "If it's good enough for Bre, sweetie, it's good enough for you." He looked at the rearview mirror and our eyes met. "Bre? Take off your clothes."

I didn't even hesitate. It wasn’t like I wasn’t already showing anyway. I peeled off the blouse and tossed it aside. Then, still suffering the depredations of both the rope and the Screw dildo, I shucked out of my skirt. Then, just to make things more solid, I bundled them up together and passed them up front.

"Hope you don't mind me getting pussy juice on your seat," I said with a smirk.

Mike chuckled. "Not at all." He looked back at Julie, who was squirming uncomfortably. "Would you prefer a punishment?" He asked.

That seemed to settle her and I wondered what kind of punishment Mike was used to inflicting on her. She reached up and began unbuttoning her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, which didn't actually surprise me, since Julie doesn't have breasts anyway. More like little bumps. She pulled her arms out of the shirt and to her credit, tossed it back toward me. I moved it to the side. Then she unbuckled her seatbelt and began shoving her blue jeans down. A moment later I had her pants and her panties. I'm guessing she kept her boots up front.

"Now, feet up," Mike ordered, but not to me. To Julie. She leaned her seat back slightly and then I saw her cute, little bare feet up on the dash. I thought about saying something about the safety of it, but she unrolled the window and stuck one foot out. I blinked. Wow.

"Breanne?" Mike said a little louder as the warm air swirled through the cabin. "You too girl. See if you can stick your feet out each side." The windows rolled down to either side of me. I gave him a surprised look as blasts of warm air filled the truck’s interior.

"You're driving a Toyota Tundra!" I yelled at him over the wind. "I'm not wide enough to stick my feet out both sides!"

I could hear his laugh. "Try anyway!"

I rolled my eyes and kicked off my flip flops. I didn't want them flying away. Then I scooted down, feeling the rope rub at my clit and bottom, the Screw wiggling inside my pussy. I spread my legs, practically doing the splits. My toes touched the doors and I propped myself up on my elbows, breasts pointed upward. I bit my lip, focused and trying, and managed to get my toes, of both feet, out the windows. I felt my thighs strain and my pussy tightened around the screw. I moaned, feeling the arousal, wishing the damn thing wasn't tied in.

Mike reached over to Julie, his hand going between her legs, and from the sharp gasp she gave I knew he had pushed his fingers into her. I sat there, whimpering with need, wishing it were me, while Julie writhed in the front seat. I listened to her moans all the way until we pulled up into the driveway. Mike turned off the car and Julie sat there, panting as he pulled his hand out from between her legs.

"Ready?" She asked me breathlessly, looking at me from over her shoulder. I nodded, grabbing her clothes and tucking them up under one arm as I drew my feet back in. We both opened the doors and Julie darted up to the door of the house, her boots loud in the darkness. I, on the other hand, waltzed slowly, my flip flops flopping, nude and uncaring. Or at least, I tried to make it look like I was fine with being naked out in public. The reality is that I didn't think I could run. Not with the flip flops on, and definitely not with the massive screw tied into my cunt. Besides, we were in the damn alley. Who was going to see? I made it to the door twenty seconds after she did and Julie gave me this inscrutable look. Mike followed and he unlocked the door, letting us in.

It took us all a moment to get situated. Mike grabbed an ice water from the kitchen, while Julie and I moved to the living room. She started to untie the rope around my waist as Mike sat down, relaxed and happy, watching the show. I turned to face him, my nipples tingling underneath the duckbill clamps, and when the rope came loose he could see, just as I did, that my clit was swollen and red, scratched and tender from the constant abrasive qualities of the hemp. Julie held in the Screw for a moment.

"Lie down, Bre." She said softly.

I did as ordered and Julie straddled me, her pussy dangling above my face. I took advantage of it shamelessly, but I think that's what she wanted, because as my tongue dipped and darted along her precious little slit, she drew the Screw out of my pussy, the threads bumping, only to drive it back straight in. I spread my legs, knowing that Mike was watching, and for a moment, all I could think about was the taste and feel of her as she “screwed” me silly.

Then, with a grandiose motion, she tossed away the black, thirteen inch dildo and grabbed a new one. Purple, floppy, and gel like, it was eighteen inches long, with two molded ends, each resembling cock. She slipped one end into me, ramming it deep as I groaned, only to pull her dripping wet slit away from my mouth. She twisted, shifting her stance until her pussy was above mine, and she pushed the other end into herself. Slowly she let herself down, slipping one leg under mine, until I felt her press against me, the dildo buried in both of us. Then her hips began jerking frantically.

"Julie!" I gasped. "The one who cums first gets a sapping!" I hissed.

Her face was flushed with need and her hips were driving back and forth. Her petals were pressed to mine and the dildo moved inside us both. I could feel her clit rubbing mine. Her hand slipped between our legs, holding on to it, forcing it deeper into both of us. She let out a strenuous moan and I reached out, touching her foot, squeezing it.

"Julie! You have to let me cum first!" I begged. But it was too much. Or too little. I don't know. She rocked and squealed and exploded, shuddering violently as she moved against me and then folded over, her thin, light body draped across me. I shuddered, desire and pleasure rushing through me, but with it an overwhelming need. I felt the jelly dong dildo slide out of me and I pushed her to the side.

Mike rose up from the couch. He’d already removed his shoes and socks and I watched as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. In seconds his cock was out, hard and upright. He grabbed his leather sap as he stood over us, Julie still dazed from climax and me laying there, eyes wide, legs open, wanton.

“Please?” I begged him. “Please punish me instead?”

He dropped to one knee, right between my outstretched feet and raised the sap. I gasped in realization that he was granting my request and I lifted my ass up off the carpet. Sure enough, he brought the sap down on my pussy, striking with short, hard slaps that stung. I cried out, energized as the pain blossomed between my legs. The permanent short circuit in my brain took the sensation however, and routed it to all the wrong places, and I felt my orgasm coming like a freight train. My fingers clenched into fists and my toes curled as I thrust my hips, lifting my pussy up to meet Mike’s paddle. I let out a wailing moan as I peaked, and Mike tossed the paddle to the side, fell forward atop me, and thrust himself deep into my very wet, very ready, grasping sex.

Colors and shapes swam through my vision as I shuddered in ecstasy. He fucked me, hard and solidly, his massive cock filling my depths more perfectly than any dildo ever could. He felt perfect and I loved his weight atop me. I could feel the carpet beneath me, ignored it, and concentrated on the sensation, even as my body opened up more, accepting and welcoming this final intrusion.

I was wet. I took him in a single thrust. Never mind how it happened - I was ready for him. NHPS Rule #1 or just by being me. Who cares? This was right. This was the way it needed to be. I arched my back, clenching my teeth as the pleasure overwhelmed me. Then the orgasm hit me, just as it did Julie, flashing through me with such force that once more, I almost blacked out, my eyes clenched shut, my mouth curled into a tight and silly grin, my arms, legs, and cunt wrapped around the man inside me.

Then I relaxed into oblivion, Mike pounding away as I went limp, a fucking rag doll. My lolled and I seemed to get rocked into the sexual euphoria I crave. A minute later he pulled out with a groan, moved to the side, and squirted his cum all over the brunette laying by my side. Julie sat up, and through the spray, managed to get her mouth over his cock, sucking up the last bits. Her skin glistened. I heard the sounds of their satisfaction and I closed my eyes, feeling great, but exhausted.

And I fell asleep.

Julie put a gentle hand on my shoulder and my eyes snapped open. She was clean. And dressed. Well, sort of dressed. She was wearing a little nighty that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, but clearly looked enticing. I groaned, a little stiff, and sat up.

“How long did I sleep?” I asked, mumbling.

Julie knelt down next to me. “About an hour,” she said. “It’s ten o’clock.”

I groaned and rolled to my knees. “Crap. I have to get home.”

Julie nodded. “I called your mom and told her you were delayed. She said she was fine with that. Do you want to shower first?”

I looked down at myself. I was a mess. Dried cum had splattered all over my thighs, my hair was tangled and my left side was red and patterned from the carpet. I looked awful. But I shook my head. “No. I should get home. I’ve got a brush in the jeep. That will be enough.”

Julie nodded, but then she produced a folded pile of clothes. Not the peasant shirt or the denim skirt, but a pair of respectable blue jean shorts and a tee shirt. There was even a set of panties, and a bra. I kept several sets at Mike’s just in case. I sighed in relief and smiled at her.

“I knew you didn’t want to show up at the apartment looking like…” she let the end of her sentence dangle.

“Like a nympho humiliation pain slut?” I said with a wry laugh.

She grinned. “Well, it’s what you are, isn’t it?”

I nodded and started getting dressed. “Where’s Mike?”

She snorted. “Sleeping. You burned him out.”

I laughed. “You are a lucky woman,” I told her.

“Yes,” she said simply, watching as I finished putting on the bra. I slid my bare feet into the shorts and pulled them up. I was just about to button them when she shook her head. “Wait,” she said firmly. I blinked and turned and looked at her. She pointed at the couch. “Bend over the arm,” she said, getting up and hurrying over to the foyer. I did as ordered and when she returned, she had my bag. To my surprise, she put it down on the couch next to me, then put her hands on my bottom. Her fingers curled at the waist band and she yanked both the shorts, and my panties back down to my knees.

“Julie?” I gasped.

“You’re a nympho humiliation pain slut,” she said. She reached down into my bad and drew out the Core Driller dildo. It was dry. She pushed me to the side and I rotated, only to fall on my ass, sitting on the couch. She spread my legs wide.

“Julie! I’m not…” I started to say, but she brought the dildo up to my pussy. I felt the pressure as the tip spread my petals. Our eyes met as she pushed, the heavy pressure parting me. I gasped, stiffening, arching my hips and back. And… and…

It went in. Smooth and deeply. All of it. All twelve inches. I groaned in ecstasy. I was wet.

Naturally wet.

“See?” She whispered. “You are a slut.” She pulled my panties up my legs, forcing them closed, but it also kept the Core Driller dildo inside me. My pussy quivered around it. She stood, held out a hand, and pulled me to my feet. Then she drew my shorts up as well. They were tight enough and I whimpered softly as I felt the Core Driller shift it’s length and breadth inside me.  

“But you are also a nympho humiliation pain slut,” she continued, patting my ass. “And that means you follow Rule #1.”

I laughed and hugged  her. “A nympho humiliation pain slut should constantly be stuffed with cock, and failing that, should have a sex toy inside her to keep her wet and ready for sex at all times.” I said it like a mantra.

Julie nodded. “Exactly.” She grabbed my hand, and too my surprise, brought it down between her own legs. My fingers felt the lace, and much to my surprise, a circular extrusion, held in by her panties. Her eyes brightened and she nodded. Then she kissed me, slowly and passionately.

“Love you,” she said a moment later. Then she walked me to the door.

I stepped out into the night air feeling refreshed and invigorated. I felt amazing. I felt great. I felt… stuffed. I laughed.

The end.


Breanne Erickson, called the “goddess of dark erotica” by Afterdark Online, brings her humor, wit, and story-telling beauty to each and every one of us through her amazing series “Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut”. Her latest novel “Tied, Tormented, & Tested: A NHPS Story” is filled with love, pain, humor, and orgasm. Check out her amazing writing at and fall in love with the world’s first “nympho humiliation pain slut!”