Yesterday’s Results: (Assigned by Master Brandon) Take your wooden triangular prism, your ankle cuffs, a pair of metal only alligator clamps, and a kitchen timer to your barn. Set up a single rectangular bale of hay in the center of the floor. Remove your clothing. Place the rectangular prism on the bale, cuff your ankles, and then position yourself over the prism, with your feet pulled back and resting on the bale. Put on your nipple clamps and then set the timer for fifteen minutes. You may masturbate while riding your prism. If you cum before the fifteen minutes is up, add an additional five minutes as punishment. If you haven’t cum before the fifteen minutes, remain on the prism until you DO cum.First of all, I want to apologize for the lateness of this post. Things just got really really busy for me yesterday and I didn’t have a chance to get online, much less actually TYPE anything up. As Forrest Gump once said, “shit happens”. Or did he? Oh well, never mind. The other reason this is getting posted a day late is because I sent it to Michael for editing. I don’t usually do that, since my posts are getting better, but this one needed editing. So if there are any glaring grammatical errors, it’s Michael’s fault. Anyway, yesterday I took the necessary materials down to the barn around two o’clock in the afternoon and got everything set up.
The first thing I did was set up a bale of hay. To be honest, I usually don’t keep many rectangular bales laying around. Usually I keep hay in large wheels called ricks and rarely handle bales. However, I DO have a few, which is something that Master Brandon checked out with me before the assignment. I grabbed a hay hook and maneuvered one of the two by five foot rectangular bales into the center of the barn floor. This was immediately followed by setting out all of my needed toys, which of course included my wooden triangular prism, a kitchen timer, my nipple clamps, and my ankle cuffs.
I think I need to explain about the wooden prism. First of all, it is a piece of wood cut into the shape of a triangular prism with a slightly rounded top edge. Its about three inches tall, and about three inches wide. It’s a foot long and is designed to be put on a chair seat. Then you take off your clothes, straddle the chair with your legs to the side, and sit down. It is very uncomfortable and frankly is like riding a wooden pony. Actually it’s very painful. In this particular case I would be replacing the chair with the hay bale.
Once everything was set up I proceeded to the next step, which was undressing. Boots, socks, jeans, tee shirt and bra all ended up neatly folded and laid across some bins at the back of the barn. It was a little chilly, but since I was only going to spend fifteen or so minutes naked, I figured I’d be okay. If nothing else it would add to the sensations, right? I moved out across the floor to the bale.
My ankle cuffs are pretty cheap. Kari bought them for me about five years ago from Spencer’s, so they’re more a novelty than anything else. There are two plastic clips which can be popped open with enough force, which is why Kari added a short metal chain clipped between the two D links attached to each Velcro padded cuff. I quickly attached the ankle cuffs, wrapping them one at a time around each ankle, then clipped the chain across, effectively hobbling myself. I knelt down on the bale, my knees on opposite sides of my wooden triangular prism, and spread my feet. The chain allowed me only to widen my ankles by about a foot. Next I bent over onto all fours, putting my hands down in front of me. Slowly I lifted my weight off my knees and spread my thighs outward. Then I lowered myself down.
I’ve ridden this mini pony before, but always in a chair. Ostensibly, you’re supposed to keep your legs outward and to the sides of the chair, thus spreading yourself completely. But bales of hay aren’t chairs and I was spread a little farther than usual. My thighs ached and trembled and I felt the distinct discomfort of the mini pony’s pressure on that sensitive spot between my ass and my pussy. Slowly I righted myself, putting the majority of my weight directly upon the mini-pony.
Next I picked up the nipple clamps. I have quite a few sets, but since this whole session is obviously a punishment one, Master Brandon selected the most painful of my sets. The little metal clamps I picked up were alligator clamps; two bright silver shining jaws, each lined with slightly dull teeth. There was no pressure adjustment for these and I have always suspected that Kari bought them at a hardware store, rather than a sex shop, since they have a tendency to actually pierce skin, bring little red marks to the surface. I’ve actually seen blood spots after wearing these for extended periods. To be honest, they aren’t my favorite.
But orders are orders. I picked them up, swinging them from the little silver chain connecting the two evil little monsters about to chew on my nipples. Ignoring the growing discomfort between my legs, I lifted the first one to my left breast and pinched it open. I suspect my gasp of pain was a little melodramatic, especially since no one was there to watch it, but it was real nonetheless. A matched movement on my right breast completed the clamping and I reached out for the kitchen timer. My hands shook and I groaned as sparks of shooting pain exploded out from the tips of my breasts, totally overwhelming the building agony between my legs.
After I turned the kitchen timer to fifteen minutes, I reached down between my legs. I was already wet. Frankly, this whole assignment had me turned on from the moment I read it. Actually doing it however added a whole new level of excitement. Yes it hurt, but in a good way, in the right spots. My fingers found my clit and I began to rub it, rocking back and forth on the mini-pony. This added a whole new dimension, since the edge of the wooden prism now seemed to drive into my actual pussy, then move backward to the button of my bottom. Add to that the terrible bites on my nipples, and I was close to cumming in about three or four minutes.
So I stopped. And let me tell you… that was torture. I clasped my hands together, my hips pumping as I “rode” the pony. I knew if I came this early I wouldn’t be able to sit out my full time on the pony. I doubted I’d be able to do the full time anyway. I’ve never managed to go longer than eleven minutes on the mini-pony anyway, not when forced by my own willpower. I had to be tied to do longer. I clenched my fists, watching the ticking timer count down, trying to focus on non-sexual things and the pain.
The sharp pinch on my breasts had started to fade into a dull throb as my overloaded nerves failed to process the crushing bite of each silver little alligator clamp. This was countered by the increased pressure between my legs. At about five minutes in I was doing some serious rocking back and forth, my hands fluttering around my belly. I knew I was bruising, and that I would be paying for this for the next couple of days. My fingers found my pussy again and I grit my teeth, trying to hold off orgasm.
I did, but only barely, and that was by yanking my hand away from my clit and tugging on the chain between my breasts. Now that hurt. But it was effective. As the sting of the clamps blossomed in my breasts I was able to suppress the immediate need to explode. I put my hands behind my back, clasping them together, even at one point reaching down leaning backwards to change the direction of pressure my weight was putting on the mini-pony, as I grabbed hold of the ankle chain. That position was a relief for only a few more minutes and then I was rocking forward again, feeling the wooden edge smash back into my pussy.
I never realized how much having bound hands can be a relief. For me, having my hands free during this whole assignment was the worst part. I didn’t know what to do with them. I could touch my clit, I could tug on the nipple clamps, I could support my weight if I rocked forward and put them down. It would have been a blessing if they had been locked to a collar, or even behind my back. It would have meant more hurt from the mini-pony, but less frustration.
At ten minutes I was a quivering, blubbering, pelvis thrusting, pain filled sex slut. The mini-pony was soaked with my juices, my clit was throbbing in time with my nipples and heart, and my thighs ached terribly. My fingers were back at my clit, keeping me right at the edge between orgasmic bliss and terrible agony. The nice thing about pain is that it makes it easier to ride that edge, pushing it way past the point where normal vanilla sex would have cum and gone. That’s why I like it. Extremes. I watched the eleven minute mark pass by and I grinned in excitement, then went back to grimacing in sex induced anguish.
It was about the thirteen minute mark that I blew it. I was right on the edge. I knew it, and I kept doing it anyway. Perhaps it was the torture. Perhaps it was need. Perhaps it was the thought of someone walking in and finding me like this. Maybe it was the idea of being bound this way and LEFT, with not even my hands to help me. Maybe it was the knowledge that I would soon be writing about it. Who knows? But I came, and I came hard. The orgasm was like a stampede of cattle rushing across the plains, a thundering of hooves and dust that no amount of whistling or ropes, or even barbed wire fences could stop. I screamed. I know I did. And for just a moment, the pain in my breasts and the pain between my legs merged into something like nitrous oxide in a car engine. I exploded so hard that juice went squirting out of me, soaking the kitchen timer and a good portion of the hay bale. I actually ground downward, forcing more of the wooden prism up into my split legs.
The orgasm took up almost a full minute and then I spent another thirty seconds just recovering. I had to catch my breath as my body slowly came down from the astonishing height it had achieved. With another long minute to go, I groaned as the pain of my assignment came roaring back. The dull throb of my breasts turned into a lances of fire and I still rocked back and forth as tears poured down my cheeks. I watched the seconds tick by and I literally fell off the bale, tipping over into the dust as the timer rang.
I think I laid there for another minute or two before I slowly and gingerly removed the nipple clamps. Taking them off sent another powerful surge of torment through my breasts as the blood rushed back into the crushed tips of my nipples. I could actually see little red dots along the tops of each bump and I avoided touching them. I twisted to a sitting position and managed to reach behind me to unclip the chain between my ankles. Then I ripped open the Velcro and hauled myself up, standing somewhat unsteadily.
A self examination came next and I found that while very tender, sensitive, and still soaked in sex juice, my pussy and ass was red and tender, but not terribly hurt. There was a little bruising, but nothing really bad and I knew that in an hour or so I’d be walking just fine. I waddled (yes waddled) to my pile of clothes and began dressing, only to find that I couldn’t tolerate my bra pressing against my nipples, nor my tight jeans digging up between my legs. I was starting to feel the cold so I ended up wrapped in an old horse blanket, slowly recovering from my assignment. It was almost an hour later when I was finally able to get dressed.
So there you have it. One major punishment assignment completed. Hope you enjoyed it. Once again…sorry it was a day late.
I guess I’ll have to be punished for that…won’t I? ;)
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