Assignment 07-27-10

Punishment Assignment: (assigned by Master Brandon) The night before the assignment you will put your padlock key on a 4 foot string and freeze it in a 20oz bottle's worth of water. The following day you will take the bottle (in a cooler), your Japanese Clover Clamps, your butterfly clitoral vibrator, your wrist cuffs, and your padlock and drive to any location you desire provided said location has a chain link fence. When you arrive you will strip naked but you will leave the crotch rope and ben wa balls in and tight. You will put on the butterfly vibrator and then clip the clamps to your nipples. You will tie the end of the string that is attached to the bottle and key to the middle of the chain connecting the nipple clamps. Toss the bottle over the top of the fence so that it dangles on the other side, pulling on your nipples. Activate the butterfly vibrator and turn it to its maximum setting. Attach your cuffs and padlock them to the fence so that you can get to the key when it is finally freed from the ice. You may cum if necessary. In the event that you are approached, you must ask them to spank you but you can not let the crotch rope be removed.

The gravel under the truck tires crunched and I looked in the rear view mirror. A long trail of billowing dust stretched back toward the country road, at least a half a mile, and I put it in park, my eyes flashing through the windshield and across the chain link fence before me.

Are you wondering what I was doing there? Sure you are. I admit that I was wondering what I was doing there. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea. It had taken me almost an hour to find an appropriate spot to do this, and in the end I found myself outside a large radio antenna, complete with small concrete hut and chain link fence. It was located about four miles south west of my farm and was in the middle of some fields. No one around. Few, if any passing cars. It suited my need to remain undiscovered during what was coming, but I was still dreading it.

I got out of the truck with my bag and cooler. I was dressed for the heat of course: flip flops, khaki shorts, a blue tee shirt and bra made up my regular ensemble. Of course underneath the shorts I wasn’t wearing the typical panties so commonly available at lingerie stores across the country. Nope. I was wearing something that was more readily available from a hardware store; and it chaffed.

For four days, with the exception of a blissful five hours on Saturday, I had been wearing a rather tight, rather scratchy, rather soaked rope thong that was embedded both in my ass and between the swollen, wet, and tender petals of my pussy. This, combined with the added effects of keeping a pair of ben wa balls tucked up inside me for the entire time created a plethora of sexual urges, usually culminating in some wild and rather agonizing coital thrusting. The original punishment also called for me to masturbate at least twice: daily, through the rope thong, and only focusing on my clit. While I’m no stranger to clitoral orgasm, such direct, prolonged and abrasive stimulation had become something both hated and desired, all at the same time. I was living in a catch 22 situation (and still am…with one day to go!) where the time I spent masturbating relieved not only the sexual tension but discomfort, as well as made me even more tender and more sensitive to the pain of the rope slipping and sliding along my slit. Masturbate twice? Ha! I’ve been masturbating fifteen to twenty times daily, just to spare myself the agony of sitting there enduring the rope. And each masturbation just makes me hurt more.

But I was recently reminded that I am a nympho humiliation pain slut, so shut up and stop complaining, right?

The chain link fence enclosed about three hundred or so feet, with the large metal scaffold of antenna right in the center. My large and thick sunglasses muted the glare of the summer Texas sun, and I stepped up to the fence and dropped my cooler and bag. I peeled my shirt off, dumping it on the ground, following it with my bra. I immediately felt the heat on my breasts. Let’s face it: ninety eight degrees at two o’clock in the afternoon is pretty intense, especially in direct sunlight. My thumbs hooked my waist band and soon my shorts joined my bra and shirt.

I grabbed a bottle of sunscreen. Seventy five S.P.F. in fact. I took several moments to liberally smear every portion of my body, except where the crotch rope lay against my skin. I’m certainly willing to endure my share of discomfort and pain, but getting sunburn wasn’t on the menu. After I glistened, my skin reflective, I went about preparing my punishment assignment.

The first thing to do was put on my butterfly vibrator. This is a simple device. It’s just a plastic triangle with a little bump on one side that is supposed to be worn directly over your clit. It has straps to hold it in place, and I stepped into the makeshift leg holes and pulled the little vibrator up and into place. It didn’t fit correctly across my clit due to the rope and tiny knot that kept the crotch rope tight. But I knew from experience that this wouldn’t matter much. The butterfly stimulator would buzz, on high, and that in turn would cause the rope lying against my clit to shake. It wouldn’t be long before I was screaming in ecstasy and agony.

My Japanese Clover Clamps were next and I pulled out the heavy hardware and held it up. Sunlight flashed on the steel chain connecting the two large clips and I spent a moment or two getting them on my breasts. My nipples are actually quite average in size, so sometimes it makes clamping them a bit of a chore. The delicious pain that shot up through each tit just made me hornier and I couldn’t control the involuntary thrusts of my hips. This of course caused the rope to move through my pussy like a saw and I could feel the fire of sexual need building rapidly.



Next I put on my wrist cuffs. These are just an old pair of nylon and foam toy cuffs Kari bought me from a store years ago. Each has a D link metal clip and I hung my padlock from the clip, knowing I’d be cuffing myself to the fence shortly. I bent down and opened the cooler, pulling out my frozen bottle of water. I had used an empty soda bottle and had removed the wrapper so I could see the key and rope clearly. The key was at the very bottom, encased in ice, the long string a white line going up through the solid block of water and emerging from the open top. Already water was condensing along the outside of the bottle and I could see that just a little bit of the ice at the top had melted. I set the bottle down on the ground by my feet and tied the rope to the chain connecting my nipples together. So with everything in place, I turned the butterfly vibrator to maximum, picked up the bottle, and tossed it over the fence.

Twenty ounces of water is about two or three pounds and I immediately felt it pull on my nipples. The nice thing (or perhaps the horrible thing) about Japanese Clover clamps is that pulling on them just makes them tighter. So after a minute or so I could really feel the pressure. During that minute I lifted my arms as high as I could, even standing on tiptoe to get all the way up, and quickly ran the padlock hasp through both D links and the fence. Then I locked it.

The bottle dangled on the other side of the fence, just level with my breasts. I could see the key, knowing that I would have to wait for the ice to completely melt before I would be able to free myself. My nipples ached and I could feel the trickles of perspiration flowing down my back, my brow, and even my cleavage. It was annoying.

But even more distracting was the butterfly vibrator. Its maximum setting was quite intense when directly applied to the clitoris, but when interspersed with a rope it became a torment of devilish design. It was like adding Tabasco sauce to a sandwich. Or pepper flakes to pizza. I felt my clit hardening, extending as my hips danced back and forth, only to be roughly stimulated by the shaking rope. My first orgasm happened in about four minutes and I screamed out loud in relief, only to find myself in even more agony immediately afterward.

My clit felt as if it was on fire and the vibrations didn’t stop. I focused my attention on the bottle. I couldn’t even see progress! The whole thing was still a solid block of ice and the weight was pulling on my breasts. My legs began trembling and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to stand on tiptoes much longer. I let some of my weight go to my wrists and dangled, giving my calves a rest.

That rest was shortlived though, since my loins seemed to have a mind of their own. Again fluids rushed through me, amplified by the little sparks of discomfort in my nipples and the fiery heat of the crotch rope scratching at my pussy. Soon I was involuntarily humping the butterfly vibrator, my inflamed lust not understanding that the vibrator was attached to me. I pressed myself against the fence, using the metal chain link to push on the butterfly stimulator and groaned in relief as I managed to increase the sensation and orgasm a weaker, but second time.

By the time I calmed down I could see that there was a film of water surrounding the solid core of ice in the bottle. I wasn’t sure, but I figured twenty or so minutes had passed. Occasionally my movements caused the bottle to sway, bumping against my breasts, still pressed up against the chain link. It was a sweet relief, cool water sloshing onto my belly, then cascading down toward my slit. The cold water soaked the rope and cooled my heat, but only for a few moments. The still buzzing vibrator held in place above my clit kept churning, allowing me no peace, and I began pressing myself against the fence again.

My third orgasm was quick to build and even quicker to fade, a mere blip on the chart. My arms were aching, as were my legs and toes and I frequently tried to change position. I could feel the scorching sun on my skin and I felt the tops of my toes and feet burning. I had forgotten to put sunscreen on them.

I hung there, dripping with perspiration, matching the melting ice bottle drip for drip, my hips grinding away. My clit throbbing, stinging slightly as rivulets of salty water trickled down my skin. Time seemed to stop and my world was reduced to the clicking sound of cicadas, scorching heat, and the never ending torture of my pussy. Everything seemed more intense as I dangled, the hot metal links of the fence pressing deeply into my breasts and arms. I closed my eyes, trying to relax, and only felt the incessant sexual urge coming from between my legs.

I’ve never known how long it takes to melt a bottle of ice water in direct sunlight, but I do now. I watched the core of ice become smaller and smaller, through several more orgasms, each tinier than the one before, until I was just whimpering. I was thirsty, hot, exhausted, and hurting. My nipples seemed to throb as much as my clit and knowing that there was a bottle of ice cold water just inches away from me was terrible. At one point I even tried to splash myself with the water, hoping some would get to my mouth.

After forty minutes the ice was only half the size of the bottle and I could practically taste the water. Another painful orgasmic wave and fifteen minutes later I let out a sob. My toes were on fire, from both the sun and from trying to keep my weight off my arms. Everything seemed to ache, from my throbbing nipples to my burning calves.

When the ice was only the width of my thumb I stared at it, trying to ignore what my body was telling me. The key to the padlock was now near the neck of the bottle, only a bit more ice clinging to the cold metal and the long strand of string that stretched from the key to my nipples. A bit of the water had come out of the bottle, leaving an inch or two of air at the top. This actually helped, since the ice was now exposed to the air. I licked my cracked lips, parched, so desperate for relief that I could almost taste it. I wanted the buzzing between my legs to stop. I wanted my nipples released. I wanted cool sweet water.

I was barely cognizant when the bottle fell. It actually surprised me. Part of that was because I was in the throes of another pain induced orgasm, my clit screaming as the vibrations and rope sawed at the tender nerve bundle. The pressure came off my breasts and I just stood there for a moment, trying to understand what had happened. My finger opened and I tugged the string upward until I grasped the key. It took a moment and several attempts to open the pad lock, but when I did I fell to rocky gravel, totally uncaring that I was sitting bare ass naked on the dusty stones. I reached through the fence and tried to reach the bottle, but there was no way. It had fallen too far from the chain link.

My first action was to turn off the vibrator. It was blessed relief. That’s all I can say. Then I removed the nipple clamps. I bit my lip as the blood rushed back into the pinched nubs and I sat shaking for another moment. Finally I clawed my way upright, using the fence itself to help me. I reached down and grabbed my shirt and pulled it on.

I practically ripped the butterfly stimulator off my body, not bothering to undo the straps. I cringed at the thought of putting my shorts back on, but I knew that I really didn’t have a choice, so I gingerly got them back in place. Pain lanced through my pussy, concentrating on my clit and I almost reached down to rub myself into masturbatory relief, only to realize that touching my self there was not a smart thing to do. I tossed everything in my bag and grabbed the cooler.

I stumbled to my truck and got in, chucking my belongings on the floor. The air conditioner helped a little, but I turned the truck around and headed back out to main road, speeding as quickly as I dared to a little convenience store I knew was down the road about two or three miles.

I practically ran in, bought a bottle of water and chugged it on the spot.

So I hope you’re satisfied. I think I paid dearly for those five hours of sexual bliss on Saturday. I’ve still got the rest of today too…and this crotch rope is killing me. I’m raw, I’m horny. I’ve cum like seven times today. It’s….

Punishment.