By necessity, this is not going to be the long descriptive head first dive into my perverted sexual adventures that usually get posted. There are reasons. One is that I’m trembling a little. Another is the fact that timing is going to be an issue and I have a suspicion that I’m not going to be in a condition that makes writing possible for a little while. To be honest, I’m not sure what I thought I was doing. I’m not good at orgasm denial. Originally, the punishment was supposed to be me getting my nipples pierced. I agreed to something a bit more…intense… to avoid that. I’m beginning to have my doubts.
Hard At Work - (Assigned by Master Barrett) So your assignment is whilst wearing your usual work clothes (Blue jeans, a thick cotton long sleeve shirt, bra, panties, socks and work boots) you are to complete the following: From 9am to 5pm at the bottom of every hour you are to masturbate using any method you like until you are right on the verge of cumming and then stop, replacing any clothing you have removed. At the top of every hour you are to quickly apply a coating of Icy Hot to your breasts and pussy (no playing with yourself!) again replacing any clothing afterward. Aside from these two exceptions you are not to touch your breasts or pussy whilst you are completing the assignment.
Pretty interesting huh? No. It just meant I was insane. Why did I accept this assignment? NHPS Rule #3. I'm not allowed to refuse if it’s in my limits. And what exactly happens if I screw up?
Should you cum even once during this assignment, the proscribed punishment for cumming will be to stuff yourself with your largest butt plug and vibrator as soon as you wake up on the following day. You will also put on your butterfly clitoral stimulator. Both the vibrator and stimulator will be turned to maximum and you have to endure the sensations until you've cum five times. Once you've cum five times you will apply a generous dollop of Icy Hot cream to your clit and then turn on both the vibrator and the clitoral stimulator again. Repeat this process (five orgasms, icy hot, then five orgasms) for the entire day until you go to bed. You may only turn off the vibes when you eat meals with your family. Should you cum more than once during the assignment, each cum earns you an additional full day of this punishment.
To be honest, things started off okay. I usually get up around 5:30am, get dressed, and head out to the barn. I’ve got animals to feed, things to check, Mom’s silly little garden to water… it takes about two hours and by seven in the morning I’m starving and ready for breakfast. Today was pretty much like any other day, including the fact that I was walking around stuffed with a nine inch long four inch thick rubber cock. Why? Sigh…. NHPS Rule #1. A NHPS should keep her pussy stuffed at all times, preferably with cock. If cock is not available the NHPS should stuff herself with whatever sextoys and/or objects are available. I’d been alternating and I even asked Master Barrett which one he’d prefer for today. So when I got up, guess what I did? Took out the ben wa balls and stuffed myself with a rubber dildo. It wasn’t part of the assignment. It just was.
But being stuffed like that makes me wet and horny. I usually masturbate at least four times a day, and that’s WITHOUT crazy sex assignments. There are times I just stop, reach down between my legs, and pump or finger or rub frantically, explode, and then keep doing what I was doing. It’s not easy, trust me. Being a NHPS is more difficult than it sounds.
Or maybe it isn’t. I don’t know.
After breakfast, I went upstairs and lay down on my bed. The first thing that crossed my mind was to cheat. No, I wouldn’t EVER lie about an assignment and claim one thing happened that didn’t, but I’m not above tipping the balance in my favor, so I unzipped my jeans, pulled up my button up shirt, and proceeded to rapidly and rather violently make myself cum… several times. At around 8:30 or so I was pretty well sated, a warm glow that no doubt came from endorphin overload had settled over me, and I was feeling pretty confident that I would be able to handle Master Barrett’s eight hour long denial torment.
I got my clothes back in order, slipped on my boots (cowboy today, for easy off and on), and headed out to the barn with my tube of soluble IcyHot substitute in my back pocket. I got the tractor out and began getting the mower attached, but had to pause momentarily at eight am to lean against one of the huge rear tires, unzip my jeans, shove them down, and bring myself as close to orgasm as possible.
It’s called “edging”, or that’s what I think. One of the blogs I follow, Agonizing Abstinence, which you can find a link to in the right side column calls it that. It’s very simple really. The girl in question rubs herself until she’s right at the edge of cumming. Then she stops. It’s about will power. It’s about strength. It’s about mind over matter.
It’s about trying to do something terribly unnatural and so difficult that I’m amazed anyone can do it.
But I managed. It almost got away from me, but I did it. Part of the problem was that I was using the Husky dildo to help with the “edging”. I’m not sure about you, but having a nine inch cock slipping rapidly in and oat of your body is terribly stimulating, even if you’ve already exploded a bunch of times.
Stopping was no doubt the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I rammed the husky dildo home (or deep depending on your point of view) and then yanked my pants up, zipping and buckling them before I came. Then, with my forehead firmly pressed to the tire, I spent a few minutes recovering before finishing the attachments and getting up into the driver’s seat. I pulled out a few minutes later, but only made it two or three fields away from the barn when I had to stop the tractor, unzip my pants, fully extract the Husky dildo (the thing’s balls were in the way) and apply a generous dollop of my muscle cream to my clit.
OMG. My clit was already sensitive. I was already a bit desperate. And to be honest, I hadn’t realized that driving the tractor while wearing my Husky dildo was going to be so…um… intensifying. I should have of course. I’ve done it before. I clenched one hand around the sodden rubber dildo and the other around the steering wheel as my pussy contracted and spasmed. Then, knowing I needed to get a move on, I pushed the Husky Dildo back in.
Yes, I came when I WASN’T masturbating. My body shook, my pussy locked down on that damn dildo, and I let out a shuddering wail that no doubt startled the few jackalopes and prairie dogs that were watching the strange human girl shoving a large rubber cock into her pussy.
A wash of emotion flooded through me. Oh SHIT! I thought. I WASN’T ALLOWED TO CUM! I almost cried with the thought of what I was going to be enduring tomorrow. I’m not built for constant stimulation of that sort of intensity. Worse, that orgasm wasn’t the gut wrenching toe curling explosion that has you gasping and exhausted, but the kind that happens suddenly, and that doesn’t really give you relief. I love it when GUYS have those kinds of orgasms. Their cocks are still nice and firm and suckable and fuckable after they explode and you can make them orgasm a second time. It’s rare for them, but fun. For me however, I was still hovering on the edge, despite already screwing up, earning myself a day’s worth of vibrator hell.
Trembling, I zipped my jeans up, ignored the still burning cream on my clit, and concentrated on driving. By the time I made it to the southwest field and began mowing, it was practically time to masturbate again and I knew that I was so close that I had to be really careful. I stopped the tractor again, pushed my jeans and panties down, made a few rather slow and careful thrusts with the dildo, and grazed my clit a few times with my finger. Yes, I almost came, but to be honest, I was a little careful. Imagine approaching the edge of a cliff. The first time I did it, my toes hung out over the orgasmic abyss and I looked down into ecstasy. This time I stayed a foot back and enjoyed the view. It wasn’t as dangerous, but I knew the edge was crumbling and that it would be really easy to fall.
I managed. Again. I took a few deep breaths, and then resolutely thought of something very non-sexual. I forget what it was, but I got my mind straight, despite the physical demands my pussy was making, and I started mowing. By ten thirty I had ALMOST got my libido down to nothing more than this wet throbbing remotely centered around the rubber rod I was impaled on. I checked my watch, stopped the tractor, unzipped my pants… again… and dabbed a little cream on my clit. I didn’t pull the dildo out all the way, just enough to give me access. And even that little movement made my need flare up like a fire with gasoline poured on it. I got the dildo back in place and squeezed it as tight as possible. Had that been a real boy’s cock, he would have been seriously feeling it. But clenching every muscle had its benefits. Control. I managed NOT to orgasm and got the tractor started back up again. I didn’t bother to pull my pants back up, or even zip them. It was getting annoying pulling them on and off so often.
Tractor vibrations plus large rubber dildo are not what I call “easy to deal with”. I should have realized that the Husky Dildo was going to drive me crazy. Every bump seemed to force the thing deeper into my hole. I could literally feel it fucking me in time with the jouncing bouncing tractor ride. In hindsight, I knew about this. I’ve driven the tractor while stuffed with the Husky Dildo. And I seem to recall talking with Master Barrett about my plans for Monday. I’m hesitant to accuse him of this, but it’s entirely possible that he ALSO remembered that I have trouble just RIDING the TRACTOR while STUFFED with my DILDO.
So when I stopped for the fourth time that morning, right around eleven o’clock, I was shuddering in desperation. My jeans were down by my knees and I lifted my ass off the seat to pull my panties down. They were soaked. It was hot outside. I was perspiring, and of course my pussy was so wet that I could have watered a garden. I leaned back in the seat, reached down between my legs, felt the tingling of my clit, grabbed the husky dildo, and attempted, attempted mind you, to bring myself to the edge.
If orgasm is a cliff, I didn’t stand at the edge. I ran as fast as I could and fucking JUMPED. Sure, I didn’t MEAN too. But I was just so horny that the edge crept up on me faster than I expected. And this orgasm was much better than the last two. It rocked me, partly because my mind was already recognizing that I’d be suffering vibrator hell for a second day.
I didn’t pull my jeans or panties back up. In fact, I kicked off my boots, tugged everything off, and then put my boots back on. My panties and jeans were already soaked and I just couldn’t bear to put them back on. I think this was probably the stupidest thing I did all day.
Now I was soaking the seat directly and the base of my Husky dildo was firmly pressed to the vinyl. Despite my release, I felt, rather intensely, the vibrations of the engine. I’m not saying that the tractor turned my dildo into a vibrator, but it came about as close as possible to it. By eleven thirty I was feeling it again, and to be honest, was grateful that I was apply my cream, rather than masturbating to the edge again.
This time however, I put just a tad bit too much Icy Hot substitute on my clit, because the high moisture level, combined with directly sunlight, perspiration, and a whole lot of pussy juice caused that little dollop to tingle my clit and then SLIDE down my slit until it actually entered my hole. Granted, it was just a little bit, but my GOD it burned. My hands were down there trying to wipe it off, out, and only succeeding in spreading it around. My hips were churning like mad, but the sting of it kept me from orgasming. It was about fifteen minutes before I was able to continue. Mowing the southwest field was taking an awfully long time.
At twelve, I masturbated again. This time I was even more cautious. My pussy was still tingling from the heat of the cream and so I danced within shouting distance of the edge, then quickly stopped and made a conscious effort to get back into my jeans and panties. Both were dry, thanks to the oppressive heat, and I disengaged the mower and headed back to the house.
Twenty minutes later I was relaxing in the cool atmosphere of our kitchen, eating ham and swiss with spinach leaves and carrots on the side. I love sandwiches. Of course, as soon as I had gotten home I rushed upstairs, applied another tiny dab of muscle cream to my clit, and then gritted my teeth as I changed my clothes. I was soaked and dusty. What I really needed was a bath, but considering that I still had half the field to mow, it didn’t make sense to do that. Then I headed back downstairs and ate.
Lunch took me past the one o’clock top of the hour, and I didn’t manage to get back out to the tractor before one fifteen or so. As soon as I was out of sight, I stopped the tractor, shucked out of my jeans and panties, and masturbated again. It was another close one. This time however I did a better job stopping near the edge. Granted, it was close, but I leaned out over the abyss and looked down. You’d be proud of me. I knew that I wasn’t going to do more than two days of vibrator hell.
I drove for about fifteen more minutes, my pussy was once again talking to me. It was saying “Breanne! Hey Bre! Hey! Make this dildo go in and out would ya? I’m so close!” Don’t get me wrong, I rarely anthropomorphize my sexual organs. Guys, I am told, do it all the time. How is Sammy by the way? Makes me think of Rodney Carrington’s “Dear Penis” song. Anyway, to reward my talking pussy I dabbed a bit more cream on my clit, just enough to tingle and heat me, but not enough to set my entire slit on fire again. I made it through, despite the half thrust caused by putting the dildo back in to its full depth, and drove for another fifteen minutes.
At two, I pulled over again and managed about three full length thrusts before I clamped down, grunting in an attempt to stop it. Metaphorically I was sliding toward the edge of the cliff, my fingers scrabbling in the dirt, my legs already swinging over the abyss. I caught myself, barely, and despite the urge to just let go, I grabbed hold of whatever I could and dragged myself back. It was terribly hard to do. I sat there for almost a full five minutes just recovering. My pussy throbbed. I was so close, so ready, so needy.
I started up the tractor and managed two more rows before I came again.
By the time I had stopped reeling it was 2:30pm and my fingers shook as I squeezed another little dab of Icy Hot onto my clit. My hips seemed to do this little jerky dance and my tormented and tortured pussy did some very strange muscle contractions around the Husky dildo. They felt good, but weird too. I guess I wasn’t built for this. Or maybe I am. What do you think?
I managed to get it in gear, both my body and my tractor and we started up again. A quick glance at my watch told me that I was on the last two hours. At three o’clock I took a deep breath and reached down between my legs. I grabbed the dildo and pumped it hard and rapidly for about ten thrusts, then pushed it as deep and as hard as I could. Then I dealt with the muscle spasms that started between my legs and shot up through my stomach all the way to my throat. I even hunched over in the seat. My hips churned, but I managed again. I didn’t explode. A bit later I was almost finished with the field and I pulled over again to anoint my clit with what was becoming a little less effective. Don’t get me wrong, I love the tingling sensation that comes with the Icy Hot substitute, but I don’t think it was meant for long term repeated application. Sure, I still felt the tingle, but it wasn’t anywhere near as intense as it had been at nine thirty that morning. So with just a few more strands of straw applied to my already strained libido, I finished up the southwest field and headed for home.
I managed to get back to the barn right before four o’clock, which was good for me. I thought that the new environment and not having to ride the tractor would grant me a bit more control. I moved over to one of the hay bales, tugged down my jeans and panties (I had put them back on when I got close to the house and barn) and very slowly, very sensuously began moving the Husky dildo in and out. It felt incredible. I was relaxed, leaning back almost on my back, in the shade, cooler. I slipped one hand into my shirt, unbuttoning the front just a tad so that I could work my other hand into my bra. A few delicate pinches here and there had me at the edge in seconds and I paused, just for a second. I was still a few inches away from the abyss and I thought another two or three thrusts would do it… would have my toes dangling. That’s what Master Barrett wants.
My judgment is not so good. Two thrusts took me over the edge and the third thrust happened as I was falling. The fourth through twentieth thrusts (or however many it was) all happened while I plummeted into the orgasmic valley. I was so far gone that I didn’t even realize what I had done until I extracted the rubber cock from between my legs. I was sore, tender, more than satisfied, and luxuriating in the afterglow. I guess I laid there with a stupid smile on my face for almost ten minutes before it suddenly dawned on me that there was a cost. A major one. A cost that I am not terribly happy about paying.
I sat up, took my clothes and dildo outside to the back of the barn and quickly hosed off. The cold water felt delicious on my clit and slit, cool, refreshing, and sweet. I sluiced the water off as best as I could, then headed back into the barn. I checked my watch. 4:30pm. Time for another dose of Icy Hot.
Maybe it was the water. I don’t know, but the Icy Hot stung again… a lot. I grit my teeth however and just took it. I was so close to five o’clock. Just one more masturbation to go.
I puttered then. Sure, I restuffed my pussy with the dildo. NHPS rule #1, remember? But I’ve been getting somewhat used to walking around with a nine inch long four inch thick rubber cock shoved up inside me. I cleaned a few things up, hosed down the mower, put everything away, and then it was time. Five o’clock. All done.
Not quite. I knew that I needed to masturbate one more time. I collapsed in another pile of hay, the little strands pricking my bare bottom. My jeans, panties, and boots were all in a pile on the floor and I reached down between my legs. Control control control, was the only word going through my mind as I began to pump the dildo in and out. My pussy was tight, and definitely enjoying the sensation, but no where near close to the insanity of before. I felt the wave building, rising to the surface, and just before it crested, I stopped, left the dildo alone, concentrated on breathing, and then got dressed. My pussy ached, it cried out for release, but I ignored it. I was finished. My mind wandered over what would be happening the following day, and this did NOTHING to help my sexual condition. I went back to the house, headed upstairs, stripped naked, got in the shower, grabbed the Husky dildo…
Hey! It was AFTER five. That one didn’t count! I hope…
So that’s it. Four fucking orgasms and now I’m screwed. I hope Master Barrett allows me to break up the punishment days. I’m not sure I can handle four days in a row. In fact, I’m not sure I can handle even one day. We’ll see tomorrow. I’m just not sure how bad this will actually be.
Writing this out has had some side effects. Of course, I’m sitting here stuffed. Not with the husky…I’m too sore for that monster. I’ve got my vibro balls in me and too be honest, I turned them on a few times. I’m going to go masturbate now and think about tomorrow’s torment. Tomorrow’s punishment.