Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Daily Assignment 03-15-10

Photo Credit: www.whoreabuse.com

Tuesday, March 15, 2010

Today’s Assignment: (Assigned by Master Brandon) Dress in just your duster and high heels and head toward your local hardware store. Find three items you would like to fuck, all under 10 dollars each, and purchase them. Get the receipt. Take them out to your truck and get in. Open your coat, spread your legs, and screw each one right there in the parking lot. You must cum with each different object. When you are finished, pick one to be a permanent addition to your toy box. Close your coat, take the two you don’t want and take them back into the hardware store, regardless of their condition. Ask to return them, explaining that they didn’t fit properly.

Yesterday's Assignment:
On the Hour Switchout (Master Brandon) Starting at 10am put a sex toy of your choice inside yourself. At the top of every hour switch out the toy for a different one. Continue this until 9pm with final removal at 10pm. If any of the toys are mechanical (like vibrators) they must be on high for the entire time period. You may masturbate as often as you like, but the toy must NOT be removed during masturbation.

I have to admit that just getting ready for this one got me going. A full 12 different sex toys? Each worn for an hour? So after morning chores I headed up to my room and got out my toy box. I know that I’ve posted the entire contents of my toy box before, along with descriptions of what’s in it, so if you don’t understand something, just read up on that post! For me, the problem was finding twelve different sex toys to wear during the day.

Obviously clamps and cuffs and things like my triangular prism were immediately eliminated from the running, which left my collection of vibrators, dildos, and various stimulation balls. I literally scraped the bottom of the barrel, emptying my toy box of everything but the clitoral vibrator and my clamps and cuffs. Then I laid out my selections and put them in the order that I wanted to have them in me. I had a lot more things to do today and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to be put into an embarrassing situation or something.

When 10am rolled around I was in my room, chatting with Master Stone and a few other friends. This made things easy because I slipped off my jeans, tugged my panties down and off, and sat at my computer, legs spread, ready for my first “implantation.” Master Stone and I discussed some of the underlying issues with this assignment. Master Stone pointed out that the original assignment doesn’t specify which hole the sex toy has to go in, so if I got overwhelmed with sensation I could always use a bottom plug. This turned out to be a boon, since I also discovered I don’t actually HAVE 12 different pussy toys.

Exactly at ten o’clock I pulled out my mini pocket rocket vibrator, twisted it to maximum, and slipped it in. This vibrator is small, powerful, and had fresh batteries, so I knew it would last the whole hour. Since it had been almost a week since my last orgasm, I was right on the edge. To make things more interesting, Master Stone had me flip a coin to see if my clit should get clamped. I managed to get out of that one, but the next flip of the coin managed to get a set of clamps attached to my nipples! I tried to hold of the orgasm as long as possible, but in the end I came around 10:15. It was a wet, forceful orgasm.

At Eleven o’clock I was out at the barn, desperate and ready for my next toy. Behind the tractor I shucked my jeans down to my ankles, tugged my panties and the pad I was wearing down to my knees, and extracted a very wet, buzzing cylinder from between my legs. I gasped as it came out and I’m afraid it grazed my clit, which caused me to go from one hundred miles and hour to about a thousand. Without hesitation I grabbed my vibrator dildo, which is just a rubber cock shaped dildo with a vibrator built in, and rammed it up into my pussy. The pocket rocket stayed pressed to my clit and I think I screamed as I came. With a twist I turned the vibrator dildo up to its max setting and was rewarded with a soft buzzing that wasn’t as intense as the pocket rocket, but still felt like waves of pleasure. As soon as I calmed down enough, I pulled my panties and jeans back into place, took a deep breath, and set out to get a few more chores done. Unfortunately, my mind wasn’t exactly on work. It was between my legs. However my massive orgasm both at ten o’clock and the one at eleven managed to keep the sensations down to a minimally intrusive

12 o’clock rolled around and it was lunch time. Before heading into the house I stepped behind the tool shed and repeated the process that I had completed at eleven o’clock. This time I replaced the dildo vibrator with my ben wa balls, two round little toys that would keep me excited with every step. I headed inside for lunch with my parents.

I don’t think I need to describe the acute discomfort I felt while moving around the kitchen and having lunch. I’m sure I flushed scarlet a couple of times when I suspected that the little ringing sound of the ben wa balls were clearly audible. But when I finally made it to the table and sat down I managed to keep control of myself, my needs, and the major itch between my legs.
Lunch was around thirty minutes and I headed back outside to the barn. It took about thirty minutes to get the tractor set up with the plough equipment, roll out to southwest field, and by then it was time to replace the ben wa balls. At one o’clock I grabbed my bag, leaned up against the side of the tractor and dropped my jeans again. The pad I was wearing under my panties was soaked to the point of uselessness and even my panties were pretty wet. I hadn’t brought a new one out with me, so I tugged my ben wa balls out, gasping slightly as my finger grazed my clit. The ben wa balls went into the bag while my six inch straight vibrator, a no frills vibe, got pushed up inside my body. I twisted the end dial until the buzzing rumbling earthquake was at its peak, and then struggled to get my clothes back in place. My right hand kept pressing hard on my jeans, right over my clit, as I climbed back onto the tractor.

Photo Credit: melissamidwest.com

Let me tell you, driving a tractor in a straight line while trying to deal with a six inch vibrator in your pussy, all the while unable to get at your clit, is very tough. About ten minutes in I was unbuttoning my fly, my left hand steering the tractor while my right hand found my clit and began a pinching stroking rubbing flicking pattern that had me gasping in about three seconds. I did manage to put the brake on right before I came. After I orgasmed, I settled back down and once more began plowing, both the field and my own slit, managing to cum three more times in the space of a single hour.

The next item I had intended to use from my list were my vibroballs, but at two o’clock I quickly shoved those aside and grabbed my husky dildo, a massive dildo that easily spans three inches wide and is a full nine inches long. It fits, but only barely. With a silly grin I pulled it out of the bag as I slid to the ground. I’ve actually had this thing in while riding the tractor before and it was incredible. I wanted a repeat of that experience and so I tugged my vibrator out, ignoring the fluttering of sexual longing and placed the tip of my Husky against my pussy. It took a bit of effort, but I got him in. I climbed back into the seat of the tractor, settled down, and put it into gear.

That’s when the Husky put ME in gear! Every bump, every rut, every little jounce translated up through the dildo and into my pussy. I was grinding down, hips thrusting back and forth, all the while I was being stimulated in strange ways. I resisted the urge to push down on my clit, instead focusing on denying myself the ultimate satisfaction. I made it almost a full thirty minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore and ripped my jeans open and rubbed frantically at my clit. Boom! I had to stop the tractor and I’m sure I was quite a sight. I think I came a second time. It’s all so hazy a half a day later, but I remember being a bit sore and being happy when three o’clock rolled around and I was able to remove the Husky dildo and replaced it with my two vibroballs.

These two small oval shaped objects, connected to each other by a wire that eventually led out from between my legs and into a small rectangular control device that I slipped into my pocket didn’t make as big of an impact as the Husky, despite the tiny buzzing. I had turned the dial all the way up, ignoring the slight discomfort of my soaked and over-sensitive pussy as the two little balls began bouncing off each other, ricocheting around inside me like racquetballs. I tried to turn my attention to my work, but every few minutes was forced to stop the tractor and just sit there, involuntarily clenching around the two maddening spheres, thanking God that nothing was touching my clit. I’m not even sure how I managed to get through the whole hour, or the field I was plowing either. But four o’clock finally arrived.

The original itinerary listed four o’clock as being the hour with my seven inch “G Spot” vibrator. But sitting there with still another field before me, I knew without a doubt that I wouldn’t be able to handle a buzzing vibrating seven inch knobbed and ridged phallus embedded deeply between my legs. That left two options. Skip to five o’clock’s option, or take Master Stone’s escape route. With the extreme self-inflicted abuses my pussy had undergone already, I decided that giving myself a brief break would be the right plan. So I pulled out my rubber bottom plug.

It was a great relief to tug out the vibroballs, cleaning them quickly and putting them away. I admit that I dipped the plug into my pussy first, lubing it up completely and enjoying the soft and malleable feel of the cone shaped plug. I took a bit of maneuvering, but I managed to get it in, and soon I was back in the driver’s seat, squirming a bit from the rear entry intrusion, but sighing in relief from the peace and quiet from between my legs. I admit that the plug still was a distraction, since just like my Husky dildo, it translated every bump and rut into a weird sort of thrust and pumping motion that felt as if the very earth itself was fucking me in the ass. Sort of a punishment for raping it with the plow. I plow Mother Earth, she plows me back. It sort of fits, doesn’t it?

And that managed to get me to five o’clock. I only had about a quarter of the second field left and then the drive back to the barn. So at the top of the hour, somewhat relieved thanks to the rest, I pulled my spiked dildo out of the bag and pulled my bottom plug out of my rear. I was actually not too thrilled about the spiked dildo. In case you weren’t aware of what this diabolical little toy is, I’ll describe it. It is a plastic sheath about as wide as a beer bottle, covered in tiny holes. It’s tapered, like a dildo, but the holes even go up to the point. Mounted inside the plastic sheath is a stiff rubber like balloon thing, just like an inflatable dildo. It even has a little rubber squeeze ball and hose running out of the bottom. When you squeeze the ball the inner balloon expands, filling with air.

One squeeze does nothing, at least I can’t feel a difference. Two squeezes is a sensation difficult to describe, but imagine little rain drops falling on your head, but inside your pussy. Three squeezes and you suddenly feel all these little tiny soft rubber spikes pressing into you, holding the dildo in place. Three squeezes is as far as I go if I’m forced (usually by a very cruel Master or Mistress) to actually thrust my spiked dildo in and out. It’s not as intense as screwing a hair brush, but it doesn’t give way like my cylindrical hairbrush bristles do.

Four squeezes and the little spikes become ridged, resisting movement. Four squeezes is about where I like to stop. It’s uncomfortable, it’s very distracting, but it doesn’t really hurt. I’ve had the thing to its maximum before though. You can get six squeezes of the pump up ball into the dildo, and frankly five and six are like having a sweetgum seed inside you. A really LARGE sweetgum seed. (I’m guessing about this. I’ve never had a sweetgum seed inside me.) This is especially torturous if you are doing something stupid like riding a horse, or driving a tractor.

So after everything was in place I climbed back up into the seat of the tractor and grabbed hold of the little black squeeze bulb and contemplated how many times to squeeze the damn thing. Usually, in normal circumstances, I close my eyes and try to imagine what various Mistresses or Masters would tell me to do. Sometimes I imagine Michael putting a poll up on the blog “how many squeezes should Breanne give her spiked dildo?” I sat there, the engine of my tractor idling, and finally decided that in the spirit of the day’s assignment, I’d give myself five squeezes. So I did.

I put the tractor in gear and immediately groaned as the spiked dildo began to respond by acting as a shock absorber…I mean a strut, connecting the wheels to my pussy. It wasn’t a sexually stimulating ride. It was agony. I kept shifting in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure and the sensation of sharp little rubber spikes digging into my tender insides. For the first time that day I wished I had my clitoral stimulator, which would have changed this entire experience into something a little more amazing. To be honest, I would have been cumming like a freight train. I even tried a little masturbation, but it was too tough to drive the tractor, frig myself, and ignore the pin pricks.

So I toughed it out. I finished the field (thank God! Just three more to do today!) and headed back to the barn. It was almost six o’clock anyway, so I parked the tractor, stepped behind a stall in the barn with my bad, removed my boots (while wincing of course) and pushed my jeans and panties to the floor. Like a smart girl, I had kept a pair of fresh clothes in the barn, just in case my jeans were soaked, and they were. I finally deflated the spiked dildo, tugged it out, and just remained there like that for about a minute, enjoying the sensation of emptiness. But as my watch ticked to six, I reached out for my next item, practically looking forward to it.

And that next item was my metal dildo. Like the spiked one, this dildo was a present from Kari, a thick seven inch long polished metal spike, tapered, smooth, and a little cold. Ostensibly, Kari used this dildo on me with various temperatures. She liked to heat it up in the oven until it was almost too hot to touch, and then alternate using it on me with a condom filled with water and frozen in the freezer. Talk about torture! But in this case it was only a little cool from being in my bag and I warmed it up a bit in my hands before sliding it up into my pussy.

It was thick, put my panties and jeans held it nicely in place and I was still able to walk with it in. It’s smooth sides were a relief and the fact that it did nothing: no buzzing, no throbbing, no rolling, no ringing, no nothing, was incredible. In fact, it was almost like resting. I can handle having something in me for extended periods of time. I did that experiment for three days for Michael for the story “Angie’s Experiment”. It’s not HAVING things inside you that’s the problem. It’s the BUZZING and constant stimulation. Thank God it wasn’t on my clit!

So I had dinner with my family, totally calm and able to converse, and only walking a bit gingerly which if anyone noticed, was put down to spending five hours on a tractor. I won’t bore you with the details of my evening, except to mention that at seven I pleaded the need for an early shower and nap, and let my mom handle the night’s usual responsibilities. I headed to my room, grabbed my waterproof vibrator, and moved to the shower.

This time I exploded, putting a hand over my mouth as I pumped the vibrator in and out. I spent forty minutes in the shower, using up all the hot water, and even did my best to keep the vibrator in as I dried off, brushed my teeth, and moved back to my room. Still naked and stuffed with a buzzing shaking trembler inside me, I moved to the computer, sat down with my vibrator jammed against the seat and my cervix, and logged on. With only twenty minutes left to go I chit chatted with a few friends on yahoo messenger, several of whom were very pleased that I was literally following my own chat rule: that every girl chatting on yahoo should have to have a vibrator buried inside her, at least on low. Mine was on high, and the only thing that prevented me from masturbating was the two explosions I had just experienced in the shower.

At eight o’clock I pulled my waterproof vibrator out and exchanged it for my very first vibrator, a six inch straight smooth shafted variety that I bought for about twelve bucks. Right after I slipped in the new vibrator (which was a bit longer than the waterproof one) I got challenged to a game of online pool. Now I love online pool, but usually when I play it’s for a wager: a sex wager. And while I admit that I am a bit better than my friend, I felt a buzzing vibrator, trembling on maximum power, was a bit too much in the way of handicaps. But he was insistent, and so I agreed. Then we discusses wagers. In the end it was decided that if he won, I had to put clothespins on my nipples and clit…and play another game of pool. If I won then he had wrap rubber bands around his cock, oil it, and then jack off until all the rubber bands were at the base.

So off we went. I didn’t do half bad. If it hadn’t been for the damn vibrator I would have even won! At about eight twenty I lifted a trembling hand and opened my desk drawer. I have about a dozen clothespins stashed there and I pulled three out, laid them on the desk, and then carefully applied them one at a time, starting with my left breast and then finishing with my clit.

Now I was horny. Really horny. And discussing my next wager didn’t help, especially since my partner had a suggestion. “If I win this one you have to play one more game of pool with me. And if I win, then I will give you a choice from three different wagers that I want you to do.”

Ouch. That’s a lot of firepower. I wasn’t sure about it, but my hips were churning, my left hand was doing some nice things to my clit, twisting the clothespin, and I was horny, which usually also means that my mind is not concentrating on logic. If I had been even half awake and not so tired from the day’s chores (not to mention assignment and orgasms!) I would have said “hell no!”

And so I lost another round of pool. Hey! Do you know how hard it is to play online pool when you have a vibrator rammed up inside you, clothespins dangling from your nipples and clit, while a guy who knows all this is making sexual comments? You try it! So as I neared climax (again) my pool partner gave me my options.

1. At ten pm take out the final sex toy and put in your vibroballs. Turn them to low and sleep with them in. (Yeah, right. Like I’m going to do that after the day I’ve had!)

2. At nine o’clock, lube whatever your final sex toy is going to be with your icyhot muscle cream. Fuck yourself silly and keep it in for the full hour. (OMG!)

3. During the last hour, not only do you have to keep your final sex toy in, but you need to have your clit stimulator on, and a plug in your ass.

Gosh. What a selection? Since the last toy I had been planning on using was a regular old dildo, without any vibrations or movement at all, any of these wagers sounded rough. Once I again, I wished I could take a poll. Not even me thinking “what would Mistress so and so want me to do?”

I’ll be honest, the idea of using icyhot as a lubricant after a full days abuse did not sound appealing to me. And frankly having a plug in, my dildo in, and my clitty vibrator going all at the same time would have had me screaming, and not just from orgasm.

So I decided to wager for number one. Humungous mistake, because I lost. I lost because I was quivering in sexual abandon, ramming a dildo in and out of my pussy at nine pm. And so after I cleaned up, signed off, and lay down in bed, I waited calmly for the little red numbers on my clock to change. At ten o’clock I tugged out my dildo and reached for my bag. Once again I pulled out my vibroballs, mentally cursing my stupidity. Slowly, gingerly, tenderly, I slipped them into myself, realizing that I had spent an entire 12 hours soaked, experienced over a dozen orgasms, and was totally exhausted. The sensation of the vibroballs was almost cathartic, and I sighed in pleasure as the two ovoid objects settled in my pussy. I turned on the controller, setting them to a gentle low powered shake.

I was exhausted and bordering on sleep. Ten o’clock passed and here I was, spending another eight hours with something buzzing up inside of me. I was so tired I fell asleep, knowing that sometime during the night I would wake up, desperate, my fingers moving downward, touching, rubbing, flicking, pinching, stroking. And you know what?

I did.

1 comment:

  1. You are certifiably insane. Either that or you are a certifiable Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut. Do they give certificates for that? Hmmm...maybe I need to offer official Silver Locke Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut certificates...


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