Today’s Assignment: (Assigned by Master Mark) Blowjob Friday. You will wear a halter top and skirt, no bra or panties. During the day you will find two different guys, strangers, and ask them if they would be willing to deliver twenty spanks to your bare bottom in exchange for a blowjob. If they accept, present your bottom, endure the spanking, and then give them their blowjob until the cum. If they refuse, find a different guy and make the same offer.
*Update* - Breanne: Please remember my rules on public spankings. If the bottom is bare, then the breasts need to be as well. Thanks! Yours Faithfully, Michael.
Yesterday’s Assignment:
(Assigned by Master Mark) When it is raining, you will go to the mall and find a place to change into a new outfit. You will wear your high heels, a thin white skirt (any length), and a thin white shirt. No bra or panties. Bring a shopping bag for your regular clothes. Once you have changed, take your regular clothes back out to your car, put them inside, and walk slowly back to the mall. Make sure you are drenched. Walk at least two sections of the mall, then return to your car.
After stinging nettles two days ago, I was kind of pleased to be returning to the classic “let’s humiliate Breanne” model. This is especially true since I’ve seen next week’s assignments and it’s completely opposite. Next week is mostly about pain and punishment. I admit, I’m ready for it. I’m wet for it. But I’m dreading it all the same. That is the paradox of a nympho humiliation pain slut’s world. We hate what’s being done to us, but it makes us cum, so we want it.
Yesterday was no different for me. I packed my supplies in a small canvas bag and hopped into the truck for the drive to the mall. It was pouring rain and I admit I brought one of my collapsible umbrellas. I parked by the regular mall entrance near the sportsman’s store, you know, the one with the big fish tank inside it? Anyway, I had everything I needed: high heels, a knee length white skirt, a white button up blouse, and one little addition I felt would be fun. But more on that later.
I grabbed my umbrella and hopped out with my supplies. To be honest, I still got pretty wet. Between the wind and the puddles on the ground my jeans were pretty damp. But I managed to get inside without too much trouble. The mall was pretty dead. I mean there were a few shoppers, but I was willing to bet that sales people outnumbered shoppers by at least two or three to one. I made me way to the nearest bathroom, found a stall, and began stripping.
This was the first time I’ve ever stripped and changed in such a private place! It was a weird experience for me. I took everything off and then pulled on my shirt, letting the smooth material caress my breasts. My nipples were already hard, mostly from the lingering chill of wet rain, but I’m pretty sure some of it was my impending walk in transparent clothing. I was wet too, and not just from the rain, but between my legs and right after I slipped my skirt up over my legs, I lifted the hem and put in my little surprise.
Yep. I brought my ben wa balls. Two round little spheres, connected with a wax piece of string, each covered in latex surrounding a metal ball. Inside, two tiny clappers rolled and struck, ringing and vibrating and rolling with every step. It is the consummate torture device for a girl. It stimulates with each move of the hip, slowly turning even the most prude and unsexed woman into a desperate sex slut begging for release. Kari used to make me walk laps around the mall with these in, just to see how long I could go before begging for a fuck.
I sucked the juice right off my fingers and then lifted a let to put on my first heel. Already I felt the ben wa balls moving inside me. I felt a little tingle rush up my leg and I managed to get my shoe buckled and then go to the next one. By the time I was done my sexual need level had risen to a three.
Oh…have you never heard of the nympho humiliation pain slut sex scale? This is a simple scale where a nympho humiliation pain slut (geeze, I need a fucking acronymn NHPS…pronounced nips?) can rate her own sexual turn on. A really good NHPS will never go below one. She ALWAYS needs to be turned on just a little. This is actually pretty easy to test. If you have a NHPS, or think you are one, then just check her pussy at random times of the day. If you can push a finger up inside her without warning and she is at least a little wet, then she’s a nympho. To be honest, I frequently am at level two most of the day because not only could I take cock immediately, but I’m MENTALLY ready for it. I think about sex a lot.
Could you tell?
I stuffed everything back in the bag, starting with my umbrella. Then I stepped out back into the mall, dressed in white, even my heels. I’m sure I looked gorgeous, except for my hair which is still cut a bit too short to pull off a look like this. Of course, I’ve dyed it red again, so I guess even that is working out too! I know it was probably very apparent I wasn’t wearing a bra, because the tips of my nipples were very hard and very visible through the sheer white cloth. I know I attracted attention because of the number of eye fuckings I got just walking down the corridor!
Outside it was pouring, and I don’t mean like pouring as in “make a mad dash to your car and be sort of wet” pouring. I mean like if you step outside for one single second you will have effectively dumped five to six gallons of water on your head pouring. I think I stood there for a minute or two just wishing it would lighten up. Oh I know…I was supposed to get wet. That was the point. But I don’t remember the assignment indicating I was supposed to try and drown myself either. Well I finally summoned up the courage to do the unthinkable and stepped out into the rain. I had my keys in my hand and after four steps (you can’t run in high heels, at least not safely) I was as wet as I possibly could be. Everything stuck to me. It was at that moment I decided NOT to walk back out to my car. I turned right around and went right back into the mall. I figured Master Mark wouldn’t mind me not breaking an ankle.
As soon as I wiped a few gallons of water out of my eyes and slicked back my hair I took stock of my outfit. I remember, clear as day (ouch…bad metaphor for this), my mother patiently explaining that my eight-year-old self couldn’t wear the white dress. It was raining. My mom said that girls aren’t supposed to wear white on stormy days.
Well gosh, look at that. I figured out why! My entire blouse was now almost completely transparent, with the exception of a few wrinkles that caused the material to fold over on itself. My breasts might as well been totally bare, since they looked as if they only were covered by the thinnest slice of gauze you could imagine. Worse, my nipples were still rock hard, making the material conform to my skin like spandex. My skirt was only marginally better. You couldn’t really see my pussy, but my rear end was spectacularly on display, making it very apparent that I wasn’t wearing panties. Like my breasts, my buttocks did a nice job filling out the wet material, turning opaque and letting the soft pink skin show through.
I glanced at my reflection in the glass door. I looked like a drowned kitten. My hair hung straight down, dripping. Thank god I didn’t wear any makeup for this! I clutched my bag, wrapped one arm across my breasts, and began my walk. Two sections. Oh god.
The stares I received the first time were nothing like the ones I received the second time. With every step my thighs were perfectly highlighted against the wet cloth of my skirt. The sides of my breasts were totally exposed. Worse, the ben wa balls were churning me into a froth, keeping my nipples hard and I began to leak, adding my own drippings to the almighty rain gods.
The looks I was getting, the surprised stares, the embarrassed shock, and even a few comical laughs made me realize that while I was experiencing sexual arousal, most of the people who saw me were laughing at me. Look at that stupid girl! She wore all white and got soaked and is now showing her body to the world! That’s what you get for doing something so stupid!
As this thought percolated through my brain I flushed red with embarrassment, lowering my head in shame. My footsteps quickened, as did my sexual tension, and I moved quickly to try to finish my two section round. Of course, after finishing two sections, I realized that I would have to walk back through them or actually loop half the mall just to get back to where I parked. I was humiliated. I was embarrassed. I was so horny that just saying the word “cock” to me would probably have made me pop right there.
I was startled out of own little patch of humiliation when one of the kiosk venders, rather than encouraging me to try a sample or look at his wares greeted me with “Nice tits, sweetheart.” Now that’s what I call customer service. I gave him a horrified look and moved on, ignoring the surge from the ben wa balls as I practically broke into a run. A little further down the mall I ducked into a bathroom, locked myself into a stall, and wildly masturbated until I came in a wet downpour that threatened to replicate the one I had drenched myself in earlier.
After exploding in a rather unromantic and sterile location, I faced my next decision. I had ALL of my regular clothes in the bag with me. Maybe this was why Master Mark wanted me to put it in my car, so that I wouldn’t have an option? I wrestled with this choice for about ten minutes, actually it was long enough for my clothes to actually start drying. I was still pretty damp, but I wasn’t as see thru now. Transparency had turned to a delicate frosting. I decided that I needed to stay in the spirit of the assignment, so I stepped out of the stall, ran a comb through my hair, and stepped back into the main mall area. I headed for the exit.
To be honest, I still got looks, I mean seriously, who wouldn’t look at a semi-wet girl wearing nothing but white, especially when it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra or panties? This time I didn’t cover my breasts, giving the various men I passed a better glimpse of my breasts, while they weren’t quite as prominently displayed as before. I even got a wolf whistle. This was much better.
But I was still a little bit embarrassed. That plus the ben wa balls had me going again pretty quick, and when I paused at the main exit, staring out into the still pouring rain, I steeled myself with the thought that once I got to my truck I could masturbate again. I took a step out, letting the water pour down on me, and then I walked, yes walked, to my truck.
I fished out my keys in the pouring rain, feeling the wet water cascade down my body. Suddenly I felt incredible, as if I was one with nature. I opened the car door and tossed my bag and keys in, and then , right there in the lot, peeled off my shirt. It’s not like it mattered really. My shirt was so wet that you could see right through it! I tossed it in after my bag and then pushed/pulled my soaked skirt off as well. Standing naked next to my truck I held out my arms and just felt the rain on my body. It was almost a religious experience.
Then I got in the truck. I don’t want to get arrested for public lewdness. I found my keys as the windows steamed up and I wiped the water from my eyes and my hair and got the heater going. It wasn’t that cold outside, but I was a bit chilled. I reached down between my legs, found my clit, and slowly rubbed myself into climax. It was incredible. It was awesome. It was relief.
I drove away like that, stuffed with ben wa balls, sexually relieved, still very wet both externally and internally, and naked as the day I was born.
I think I’ll wear white every time it rains.
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