Monday, July 19, 2010

Assignment 07-19-10

Photo Credit: underhishand blog (P.S. By the way, if you like my assignments, you should REALLY check out this blog! - Bre)

The Assignment: (by Master Brandon) Breanne, you will choose one day during the next week to wear a short skirt and halter top. You will not wear a bra or panties. You will need to be dressed like this for the entire day. You will keep three clothespins on your person at all times. At the very beginning of the day you will lift your skirt, masturbate with your fingers until you are ready to explode, and then you will put one clothespin on your clit. The other two clothespins will be attached to your labia. Anytime you are alone, you are to remove the clothespins from your labia and move them to your nipples. You may not cum during this assignment. The assignment is over when you go to bed.

My God. What a week! I'm grateful that I'm getting a break now. I can't even begin to describe the absolute torture I've endured all of last week, but I guess I've got to try don't I? It all started last Sunday, one day after Mistress Ellen's rather intense bathroom screwing assignment. And it all started with clothespins.

I’m an early riser. Part of that is just life on a farm. Part of it is that sometimes I don’t sleep very well. So I’m usually up around five am every morning. My morning routine is pretty basic as well. I get up. Brush my teeth. Get Dressed. Go do chores. That sort of stuff. Yesterday morning wasn’t that much different.

But there were a few minor changes to my routine. The first was selecting my attire for the day. Usually I wear shorts or jeans, depending on what I have to do for the day. Tee shirts are also an often worn item. Occasionally I wear a button up oxford, but I’m still a tee shirt girl at heart. And of course under all this I wear panties and a bra. Pretty normal right?

So it was definitely a change when I pulled up a short flared skirt that only came down to the middle of my thighs, and a fire engine red halter top that showcased my breasts rather nicely. No panties. No bra. Just me and an outfit that would have made any streetwalker proud.

I went to my desk and after checking my email I dug around in my desk drawer and removed three wooden clothespins, pegs to you Brits! Mine our garden variety wooden clamps perfect for keeping sheets attached to rope, or for tormenting young Nympho Humiliation Pain Sluts who seem to keep getting into trouble!

According to the assignment, my first task was to get myself close to the edge. Fair enough. I admit, I wasn’t looking forward to being denied relief. I don’t handle denial very well and to be honest, I’m a pretty sexual person. Oh…that really wasn’t news to you, was it?

I spread my legs right there in my desk chair. My seat doesn’t have arm rests, which makes it easier to do complete sexual tasks at the computer. My skirt rode up all by itself leaving my shaved pussy totally exposed. I was already a bit wet, just from dealing with the anticipation, and I began by slowly rubbing my fingertips across my clit. In hindsight, I probably should have focused on other parts of my body, but my clitoris has always been the gateway to incredible orgasms for me. Mine is very sensitive, which is why this assignment was so intense and cruel, on a number of levels.

To my disappointment, it didn’t take long to get me to the edge. By five fifteen I was ready to explode and it was only with great difficulty and the knowledge that I would endure a pretty intense punishment for violating the terms of the assignment kept me from relieving my sexual needs. Then, trembling at what I was about to do, I picked up the first clothespin and attached it to my clit.

I almost came again. It was that intense. My body tightened as the sensation triggered an orgasmic like pulse that rushed through me. I fought it down, trying to ignore the cruel bite of the clothespin. Slowly, I stood up, my thighs parted slightly in order to keep the clothespin from either jabbing my thigh or getting bounced around. Before taking a step, I pulled up my halter top exposing both breasts. Then I quickly clamped each nipple with a clothespin, once more bringing me to the edge of sexual release.

Part of the day’s assignment was about mental torture as well as the sexual kind. Making me move the clothespins on my nipples to my pussy whenever I was around other people made me conscientious of the wooden clamps at all times. It also kept me exposed – a lot. So, keeping true to the assignment was a trial. With my three clothespins attached and wobbling, I took a deep breath and headed downstairs and out to do my chores.

The first thing I discovered was that walking with a four inch long wooden clothespin attached to your clit is not comfortable. It sways. It scratches. It’s constantly bumped, shoved, and pulled by the motion of your thighs, forcing you into a sort of leg spreading waddle that looks ridiculous. Imagine having a heat rash on your thigh and crotch. That’s sort of what it felt like. Of course add in this non-stop sexual tension, since the movement constantly plays with the most sensitive part of your sexual core and voila! Instant Sex Torture! Then, just for fun, add two more clothespins sticking straight out from your breasts, bouncing slightly with every breath, keeping your mind on two more highly sensitive points.

It was weird doing my chores with my shirt up, breasts exposed, clothespins bouncing, and the overwhelming desire to masturbate as hard and rapidly as possible. By six in the morning I was going crazy. My clit felt as if I had been strapped spread-eagled to a rack, legs spread, for a full two days, while a low powered massager constantly tormented my budding clit.

Hmmm…that actually sounds fun. I’m willing.

It took me just a bit longer than usual to finish up, and around seven am I made myself ready to head back inside. It was a bit of a relief removing the clothespins from my breasts and tugging my halter top down. Then I lifted my skirt and quickly clamped both outer petals of my pussy. It didn’t hurt, just felt tight, and while it didn’t add a whole lot of sexual tension, it certainly made walking more complicated. It was hard not to touch the clit clothespin too. I waddled back inside.

Breakfast with family, especially my fiscally, socially, and culturally conservative parents, can be a trial even when you aren’t dressed like a two dollar whore. My dad’s eyebrows went up when he saw me, but he didn’t say anything. Mom on the other hand felt no compunction about giving me a lecture on appropriate attire. Evidently a sexy halter top and a skirt short enough to expose my rear on a breezy day is inappropriate for feeding pigs, chickens, horses, and cows. I’m so glad I didn’t tell her about how I accessorized my outfit!

After breakfast I headed back upstairs and once firmly ensconced in my room, I again moved the two clothespins from my pussy to my breasts. Talk about instant sexual frustration. I was going crazy. Worse, my dad had asked me to make a run to the grocery store and it occurred to me that this presented a major problem. I got online and asked a few knowledgeable people for their opinion. There seemed to be a consensus that driving alone in your car, despite the possibility of being observed, meant that I needed to have the clothespins on my nipples. Ah well. It wasn’t going to be the first time I’ve driven around town with my top up and my breasts clamped.

I think I stayed up in my room until about ten or so and then I moved the clothespins back down between my legs. It was so hard not to touch myself. I so desperately wanted and needed to cum. But Master Brandon had made it very clear that I would be punished, and he had even told me what was coming should I violate his orders: a week with no panties, ben wa balls inserted into my pussy. And last but not least, a thong made of the same rope that I had used to torment myself in the barn. I dreaded the thought of having a one inch thick scratchy rough piece of hemp embedded in my pussy and butt crack…for a whole week. So I had a lot of motivation not to touch myself.

The walk to my truck wasn’t bad, though it earned me another glare from my mom. I managed to get outside and as soon as I was in my truck I flipped up my halter top, spread my legs, and once again moved the clothespins from my pussy to my breasts. If you’re getting tired of hearing that, imagine how tired I was DOING it. Worse, the tips of the clothespins were stained, wet with my own juices. I put the truck in gear and headed out.

The drive was uneventful except for one traffic light where I was ogled by the two guys in the little sports car next to me. I smiled and waved and even shook my bosom a little. I pulled back a bit when the one guy took pictures with his iPhone, but it was still fun. So if you see the pics posted somewhere, let me know.

When I got to the grocery store I pulled into a spot and immediately took the clothespins off my breasts, covered back up, and then lifted my skirt. My clit was swollen and red and it was everything I could do to keep from releasing it. Instead, I put the two clothespins back on my labia, running a single finger through my slit, so wet, so needy, and so perfect. I couldn’t stop myself. My finger went from top to bottom, gently wiggling the clothespin attached to my clit and then sinking beautifully into my body. It wasn’t think enough granted, but it felt incredible. Maybe it was the penetration. Perhaps it was the intensity of the clothespin on my clit. Maybe it was the fact that it was near eleven o’clock and I had been forced to endure this torment since five in the morning. Maybe it was the fact I was in a busy parking lot where anyone could see me.

I came.

Yes I know I violated the terms of the assignment. Trust me. I know. I've already partially paid for that mistake and will be paying again next week I assure you. But let's get on with the story.

I shuddered, gasping as my body trembled and I let out a little sigh of relief. But it was short lived since I didn’t dare take off the clothespins. With a deep breath and a bit of mental preparation, I got out of the truck, smoothed down my skirt, and walked into the grocery store. My mind was certainly not focused on the list of items my dad had given me to get, but rather on the fact that my pussy was a clothesline and every step was a mixture of sexual stimulation and a touch of pain. Add to that the intense embarrassment of being out in public, in flip flops, a short short skirt, and a halter top, not to mention the three clothespins dangling down from my private parts, and you’ve got a recipe for another orgasm. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised me if it was possible to actually see the clothespins dangling out from under my skirt!

I did hold off, thank you very much. I managed to get my grocery cart, load it up, and slowly walk my way down every aisle. It took about an hour. By the time I got back to the truck, loaded the groceries into the bed, and got in, I was just as ready to cum as I had when I GOT to the grocery store. I got in the seat, turned on the ignition, and then, after checking to make sure I was unobserved, I pulled up my halter top, reached down between my legs, and removed the two clothespins dangling from my pussy lips.

Talk about relief. It felt good to have them off. Of course that relief was immediately replaced by the tightening of every vaginal muscle I had as the biting of the clothespin encouraged my body to start the whole orgasmic process immediately. I quivered and finally, right there in the parking lot, I came for a second time.

When I looked up, this forty something year old woman was staring at me from about ten feet away. Ooopps. So much for public sex. I gave her a sheepish grin, got the truck in gear as my nipple clamp clothespins bobbed and jiggled, and pulled out of my spot and raced away. The drive was uneventful. I guess people don't look around that much since I didn't even get a honk.

Once I got home I moved the clothespins for what felt like the umpteenth time, repositioning them on my pussy with a certain feeling of trepidation. You try walking around with clothespins dangling from YOUR genitals. Anyway, I managed to get all the groceries into the house despite my handicap and then I helped put them away. Then I had lunch.

This took about two hours and set me right back to where I was at the grocery store. So after lunch I headed back upstairs to my room, fully intent on doing a bit of writing. I did manage some, which I hope you are all appreciative about. But it writing about sex didn't help my libido either and I couldn't help rocking in my chair, thrusting my hips forward ever so slightly. Of course when I did, the clothespin on my clit bobbed and waved and drove me absolutely crazy and it wasn't long before my fingers were dipping into my pussy, rubbing, stroking, flicking the clothespin, and then pulling on it, twisting it even. It was everything I could do not to scream out loud when I came.

I was better for a while, but then I spent a few minutes online with Master Barrett, who seemed to take great pleasure in forcing me right back to that state of sexual nirvana that I was ALREADY in trouble for achieving. He kept me in a state for almost an hour. Flick Flick Flick. "Flick the clothespins on your breasts three times." He said that so many times, never close together, to keep me in a terrible state. To his credit, Master Barrett asked "so what will it matter if you cum again?" So with my clit tender and sore and my nipples throbbing I came again, this time at the express direction of Master Barrett.

Afterward I made a trip to the bathroom, which was almost an adventure in and of itself. It wasn't the bathroom part that was adventurous, it was walking down the hall with my halter top up and the clothespins still firmly attached to my nipples. Sure, I wasn't expecting to encounter anyone, but wow...the tension! I loved it!

The rest of the day went as expected. My clit was throbbing constantly. Lots of sexual turmoil, two more orgasms, and then finally, right before bed, I took off the clothespin on my clit and about passed out from the pain as the blood rushed back into the tender little nub. My breasts weren't exactly in better condition, thanks to the fact that I had left them clamped for nearly an hour. I wasn't in any condition to masturbate, so instead I went to bed, never expecting the fire storm that was coming.

Monday was busy, so I didn't have a chance to write much. Tuesday I got an email from Master Brandon asking how my assignment went. Sheepishly I admitted to having six orgasms during the assignment. In for a penny, in for a pound right? It was Wednesday before I heard back from Master Brandon, who was very disappointed in me, and ordered me to start the punishment the following day. That afternoon I went down the barn and cut about four feet of rope from our spool, totally ready for my punishment to begin the next day.

On Thursday morning I woke up around five am like usual and pulled the rope and ben wa balls out of my closet. The first thing I did was to insert my ben wa balls, which I admit made me very wet. Then I tied the rope around my waist, which let me tell you was not very comfortable. The rope was at least an inch thick and very scratchy. It drove me nuts and that was BEFORE I tied the knot and then let the rope dangle down from the small of my back. I reached between my legs, grabbed the loose end and drew it up into my butt crack. It only took a little bit of wiggling and a little pressure to seat the rope securely between my ass checks. I could feel the rough hemp scratching at my anus. Then I used my left hand to spread my pussy lips and made sure that the rope was firmly embedded in my slit, the thick petals enveloping the rope on both sides. Then I tucked the rope up and around the loop at my waist, drew it taut, and then tied a clove hitch.

What! I was a girl scout okay! I know my knots. Sort of.

So after I had my clove hitch tied, I used a pair of scissors to hack and chop and cut my way through the rest of the rope, then tightened the crotch line.

Oh My God. My clit was already swollen, already telling me owww.... I thought I could feel every strand, every bump, every little wiry piece digging into me. I couldn't help thrusting my hips forward, rocking myself. That's when I discovered that rocking, thrusting, even walking was going to cause the length of rope between my legs, between the petals of my pussy, between my butt cheeks, to move about a full inch with every motion. Worse, the ben wa balls were exciting me, and the mixture of ouch and ooohhh was creating another buildup of tension that I wasn't going to be able to handle properly.

I didn't of course. I came before I even made it to the barn. I gasped, leaning against the wooden wall, eyes shut, hips rocking wildly as the waves of orgasmic lust rushed through me. My clit was on fire, the ben wa balls were rolling inside me, and I shuddered violently as I climaxed, and that's a pretty fair description of my day.

I wrote. I tried not to move to much. Master Barrett tormented me a bit more which seriously hampered my writing. At one point I was sitting in my chair, my shorts down around my ankles, my tee shirt and bra in a pile on the desk, while two clothespins stuck straight out from my nipples and I constantly jerked my hips back and forth, for all intents and purposed humping and fucking my crotch rope with abandon. Master Barrett kept me right on the edge and then finally, allowed me to cum, after getting me to reavow my oath as a nympho humiliation pain slut.

Of course during all this I also got another assignment from Mistress Ellen, along with "when are you going to do this." I'm in such demand! Not only do my readers love me, but so do my doms! But there was a problem facing me. My time of the month was about to start, and in fact, did start on Saturday. So much for Master Brandon's punishment! Two days completed. I get a nice five to six day break, and then I can finish the last five days, right?

Master Brandon had other ideas. He expressed his disappointment in me for not completing my punishment and informed me that I would need to start all over again when my time of the month was finished. And as further punishment, twice a day during the week of sans panties and with a crotch rope thong, I needed to masturbate, with a vibrator, and only by pressing it to my clit.

Mistress Ellen was not exactly happy about bumping her assignment in favor of me being punished for a week, and I expressed my concern to Master Brandon. As a result, I was able to purchase time to do Mistress Ellen's assignment. What's it going to cost me? Just you wait. It will be my second assignment that week.

So I'm off for the rest of this week. Back again the following week, ready for fun, adventure, sex, and lots of orgasms. Oh yeah. And torture too. Painful, clit wrenching, pussy smacking torture! Love ya!


Next Assignment: Truck Stop Tripping (Assigned by Mistress Ellen). Bre - you will dress in a skimpy slut outfit, your choice, grab a bag of sex toys, and then proceed to the nearest truck stop. Once you are there you will pick any truck driver you'd like and inquire if he is driving to the opposite side of Houston. If he is, you will politely ask him if he would be willing to give you a lift across town in exchange for you sitting naked with him and masturbating. You may offer blowjobs and/or sex if necessary. You may cum. Once you get to the other side of town, ask to be dropped off at another truck stop. Once you are there repeat the process to get home.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for commenting on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog! We love hearing from our fans. Whether it's a critique, a suggestion, or just a plain old "well done!" drop us a line! Or feel free to email us directly! You can find our address at our website! Thanks!