Friday, September 24, 2010

Can I Cum Part 6


Can I cUm Part 6

After my conversation with Master Barrett yesterday morning, I signed off and finished my post. It’s terribly hard to write stuff when you’re distracted and I have enough distractions in my life as it is. The whole punishment thing was more than enough to deal with, and having the added distraction o being online and chatting at the same time was just too much.

I guess I need to mention that this is part six in a seven part assignment. I’ve posted practically every day so you need to get in gear. If you’re one of those people who need to get caught up, do so. The bare essentials are this though, if you’re too lazy to go read the other posts: 1. I’m not allowed to cum unless I ask permission. 2. I have to ask a stranger. 3. The request must be face to face. 4. I have one minute to cum after asking permission to cum. 5. If I don’t cum, I have to stop masturbating and move on and ask another person. 6. If I cum after the minute, or before getting permission, I am required to immediately go home, put in my vibroballs, anal plug, and put on my crotch rope thong, then I have to ask, more strangers, face to face, if I can remove the rope and the plug before I can orgasm again.

Don’t ask me what happens if you cum while wearing the rope. Enhancement, that’s what. Yesterday it was not only keeping the vibroballs on low all day, but ALSO keeping one clothespin on my clit, or if I preferred, one clothespin on each nipple. Oh yeah. I forgot. I had to apply a nice dose of Icy Hot to my nipples and clit every two hours. Yesterday was tough. But Master Barrett felt that wasn’t enough. Oh no. Today, if I have to cum, I have to actually clamp my clit during the orgasm… with my alligator clamp! You know, the one I bought at the hardware store? The one that’s all metal teeth and very very tight? Yeah, that one.

So just be aware of that.

Anyway, after finishing up my post yesterday I almost immediately had to head out. The vibroballs were driving me crazy and the clothespin on my clit wasn’t helping. I hadn’t been able to wear my clothespins on my breasts because of familial issues, which made things more difficult. Even more tough was the fact that when I started off that morning I was wearing a pair of loose gym shorts. That made positioning and dealing with the clothespin on my clit a lot more difficult.

But I had my purse and large bag with me that morning, and was planning on spending as much of the morning and afternoon out and about as I could. The idea was to overload myself, cum as much as permissively possible, so that when I got back home that afternoon I would be so sated that not even a clamped clit and the low constant rumbling in my pussy would set me off again.

Technically, it was nine am before I managed to get out the door. I had to delay slightly because I spent a bit of time putting the damn muscle cream on my breasts and clit. Then it took another ten minutes to recover from that. That’s what happens when you’re a girl and you have things to pack and deal with. But I managed. I sort of waddled my way down to the truck, waved at my mom who was watching in this sort of curious “what the hell is wrong with her” look, and then drove off. As soon as I made it to the road behind our farm, I pulled over, grabbed my bag, and got out of the truck.

For those of you who know me, this is rather routine. The process is simple however, and always fun. With the threat of discovery only a short turn and fifty miles an hour away, you strip naked, fold your clothes, lay them on the hood of the truck, and then you get dressed again with the new outfit! I tend to move at different paces depending on what I’m doing. For example, removing my tee shirt was done at a leisurely pace. I even reached into my shorts, gasped when I removed the clothespin from my clit, replaced it on my right breast, grabbed the second clothespin from my bag, and put that on so I had a matched set. Then, with two wooden pegs sticking straight out from my tits and bouncing with every move I made, I grabbed the vibroballs remote, set it on the hood of the truck, and pushed my shorts down, stepping out of them. I had been wearing flip flops, so it wasn’t hard. I hadn’t been wearing panties or bra, and I didn’t bring any with me either. Now that I was totally naked I moved a bit more quickly. The last thing I needed was a sheriff’s deputy to come over the rise behind me. I rapidly folded my tee shirt and shorts, grabbed my skirt, stepped into it and got it just into place as I heard the roar of an engine. I tucked the remote back in the waist band as the car rushed past.

Now to be honest, this doesn’t happen all that often. I also have to admit that while I’ve been caught bare ass naked here, not all the vehicles stop. Some just slow down to look at the naked or half naked girl. Oddly, if I’m fully dressed, nearly everyone stops. I guess I just look like one of those girls who need help. If only they knew what kind of help I needed.

The brakelights came on almost immediately and the sedan slowed to a stop. Then the engine changed it whine and the car backed up, rather quickly. I turned to face it, resolute in my humiliation. This is what Master Barrett, and Mistress Ellen, and Master Mark, and even my pain loving Master Brandon, all want: me humiliating myself, though in the latter’s case he would probably also want me screaming my head off in sexual agony too.

The side window rolled down as I faced the vehicle and I saw a rather handsome face peering out at me in what can only be described as amused interest.

“I was going to ask you if you need help with your car. But I’m pretty sure you need help with other things,” he said, the humor in his voice quite apparent.

I gave him one of my million watt please tie weights to these clothespin and plug me with a foot long five inch wide dildo smiles, stepped up to his car, and leaned over, putting my arms on the window sill. My breast were actually in his car. I could feel the air conditioning blowing on them. The clothespins dangled and he couldn’t help looking at my tits.

“Actually,” I said with a grin, “you can help me. You can give me permission to cum.”

One eyebrow went up and for the second time this week I was startled by someone who grasped the situation without the need for lengthy explanation.

“By all means, go right ahead.” He grinned and waved at me to start.

I glanced down at my watch and checked the time. Despite the fact I had the vibroballs on and was already hot and bothered, I wasn’t near the edge like usual. This was just merely too good to pass up, and I felt confidant that I would make it just in time. I pulled my skirt up, giving the nice man a good look at my pussy, not to mention the wire running into it. Then I went to work on my clit.

Masturbating on the clock sort of sucks. Part of my mind was too distracted by not wanting to go over my minute and worrying about the time. In the end, I failed, rather miserably. Worse, all I had done was get myself to the point where I really NEEDED to cum. Damn. I groaned after checking my watch again, watching the last few seconds tick away. I pulled my wet fingers away from my clit with a moan of disappointment and then let my skirt back down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m only allowed a minute to cum,” I explained.

“Really? Only one minute?”

I nodded. “With each stranger. Now I have to find a new guy who will give me permission.”

He seemed to think that one over. “Look, why don’t you come with me? I’m heading to a meeting later this morning and can provide you with about twenty different strangers. They’re all male, so chances are you won’t have any problems with them. Plus I’ll vouch for you, tell them you’re my assistant or something.”

I looked at him suspiciously. I’ve been made a lot of offers before, but this was a bit different. “When does the meeting end?” I asked.

“This afternoon, probably around three. I can drive you right back here.”

Perfect. Ten to Three? With probably a free lunch thrown in? Where do I sign up? I gave him a smile and wiggled my shoulders, which of course set the clothespins wiggling. “Let me get my purse out of the truck,” I told him.

Now before any of you start screaming at me, or I get a nasty email from Michael about violating security protocol, I opened my purse, grabbed a pen, and quickly jotted down the guy’s license plate number. I left this and the date and time on the note, and then tucked it into the seat. If something happened to me, the cops would know exactly who and when and where. And since I’m obviously fine since I’m writing this, you know my precautions weren’t even necessary!

I didn’t bother putting on my shirt since I figured my new friend would let me know when it was appropriate, and frankly it isn’t illegal for women to be topless. I grabbed my purse as well as my bag, locked the truck which technically was on my own property, and opened the car door.

“I’m Danny. Danny Garcia,” he said, holding out his hand.

I took it and let him have another one of my million watt please fuck me in every hole smiles. “I’m Breanne. Breanne the nympho humiliation pain slut.”

Now he was surprised. “Is that a title, or a label?” he asked.

“Both,” I said firmly. I settled in the seat and took a deep breath, setting the clothespins wobbling.

“Um… just out of curiosity, and not that I’m complaining, but do you happen to have a shirt in that bag?”

I gave him another smile. “Two actually. A halter top that goes with this skirt and a tee shirt. Did you want me to put one on?”

Danny thought about it for a moment. “Nah, I think we’re good, though keep them handy. When we get to the office I might have you put on the halter top.”

I nodded and off we went. I have to admit, I was a little curious as to why he was taking the farm to market road behind our farm, but Danny was garrulous and told me he was single, a web programmer, and had purchased a new house in one of those subdivisions about three miles south of us. I knew which ones he was talking about because the developer sends Dad a buyout offer every few months. Dad won’t sell the farm though. Anyway, Danny was actually hosting a programmers meeting at his office complex.

During the ride, I amused myself by seeing how far I could push my new friend. At one point I put my right foot up on the dash board, leaning back so that my skirt rode up my thigh, exposing my slit. Once I removed the remote to the vibroballs and stuck it in the center console of the car, wondering if he’d touch it. He didn’t, but I could tell he wanted too.

I got grilled as well. Danny asked me a lot of questions and I found myself opening up to him, answering about my life, my label, and the specifics of my assignment. He loved the idea of setting difficult sexual tasks for me. I laughed and explained that I could do just one assignment at a time. His response was too shrug and say that he was looking forward to afterward.

I guess my bare and clamped breasts and exposed pussy were too much for him because eventually, even before we got to the freeway, his hand was on my thigh, right where it meets my torso. It felt good but I moved it anyway. Oh not off. On. Soon his middle finger was dipping into my pussy and I was moaning again. Granted, not enough to cum, but I was feeling it.

When we hit the freeway I asked him to stop. The occasional stares of astonishment were too much for me to deal with, especially while Danny’s hand was doing nice things between my legs. I had the butt plug and crotch rope with me in my bag, but I didn’t want to have to put them on. Danny acquiesced immediately and I rewarded him by reaching over, stroking his rather firm cock, and eventually managing to get it out of his trousers. I stroked him pretty good for a while, and then asked how close we were to his office.

With ten minutes left to go I filled the time with some delicate stroking. Five minutes later I was bent over the center console, the clothespins digging rather painfully into my breasts, bending my nipples sharply, as I sucked on Danny’s cock. I know… you shouldn’t do that in a moving vehicle, but I wasn’t trying to make him cum, and there’s a difference. It wasn’t until we parked in a garage that I began seriously slurping, bobbing my head up and down and doing a few special things that I know drive guys totally nuts.

Danny wasn’t cumming though. He admitted later that he had trouble cumming from just felatio, which I think sucks. Anyway, he asked me to put on my halter top, move my clothespins to my clit, and follow along. I did as he asked, wincing slightly as the wooden peg latched on to my nether nub and I pulled the halter top over my breasts. I looked like a whore.

Danny opened the trunk and handed me four trays. My mouth watered as I smelled kolaches. I carried while we walked into the building and through a series of antiseptic halls decorated with some rather lame art and even more poorly chosen furniture. My former Mistress Kari is an interior designer in Houston and frankly she could work miracles with the place. It’s a dump. Danny’s office was nice though. It had his name on the door plaque as well as his business name (which will remain nameless right now) and he only grabbed a key from his desk before leading me down the hall to a joint meeting room available for tenants.

I set the trays down, my clit smarting from the clothespin digging alternately into my thigh as well as my pussy. I began to have some second thoughts about this whole thing as Danny got his computer set up. I laid out kolaches and helped myself.

Danny seemed ready early and led me back to his office. A closed door provided us with some privacy and the next thing I knew I was on my knees, finishing the blowjob. When he was groaning, he pulled me into his lap, turned me around, tugged the vibroballs out of my pussy, removed the clamp from my pussy and then impaled me. I loved it. I groaned. I wiggled my hips, fucking him, using him as the best sort of chair. I felt him stiffen a fill the condom and then he was pushing me off, turning me around. He pushed me onto the desk, grabbed the fallen clothespin and put it on my nipple. My bag was in the outer office, so instead he pulled out a paperclip and attached that to my other breast. It hurt.

“So, you’re a pain slut?” he asked, his voice a little hard. “And if you cum without permission you have to put in the anal plug and wear that rope thing?”

I nodded, gasping, even as his fingers played with the clothespin and paperclip. He pushed me backward onto his desk, my legs spread open. He pulled a ruler out of his desk drawer, held it up, and then immediately began slapping it against my clit.

I couldn’t help it. I came. What else was supposed to happen? It wasn’t my fault. I was already on edge from the fucking and the sucking and the vibroballs buzzing and the clamps. When he slammed the ruler into my clit I just popped.

I think it was my screaming out in ecstasy that got Danny to stop. By the time he was done though I had pretty much soaked his desk. Oops. He let me slide to the floor as he stood up, put the ruler back in his desk, and left me in a puddle.

My bag dropped down in front of me and Danny was quietly giving me instructions. It took everything I had to concentrate.

“You will be serving everyone at the meeting. You will do whatever you are told. You will wear the skirt and the halter top, and I expect you to have your butt plug and rope thong on as well. The clothespins need to be on your tits, under your shirt. You’ve got five minutes to make yourself presentable and then you’ll be stationed at the door to lead the trainees in.” He stopped. “Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll let you put that cream on your tits and clit at eleven too.”

Forced sexual slavery. Ah… so much fun. I picked myself off the floor, stumbled over to my bag and extracted my plug. I didn’t have any lube with me, other than Icy Hot, a definite oversight perhaps, but I made do with my own natural juices, plugging my pussy a few times before attempting to seat the butt plug in the appropriate spot. Next came the crotch rope harness and I tied it tightly around my waist, cinching the single inch thick scratchy strand between my buttocks and then through my outer and inner labia. The knot went over my clit, pulled tight.

I slipped my skirt back on, tucking the vibroball remote into the waist band. Then I pulled off the clothespin and paperclip, pulled my halter top on, then lifted the tight cotton material up. A quick rummage through my bag provided me with a second clothespin and clipped them both to my nipples, this time with the peg pointing downward. It didn’t really make a difference. You could still clearly see the outlines of the clothespins, but maybe that was what Danny intended. I slipped back into my flip flops and left Danny’s office.

Back at the meeting room Danny gave me this lanyard with my name printed on it. I about croaked when I saw “Breanne – NHPS. Gofer and Attitude Adjustment” on the label. I put it around my neck and it dangled right between my breasts. Danny directed me to the door and told me to keep my eyes out for people with similar lanyards. I was to greet them warmly, even affectionately and then escort them back to the meeting room.

I waited patiently at the door for about fifteen minutes before the first two showed up. It was a long wait too, especially since my butt was having little spasms around the plug and my pussy was tingling. But what I was really dreading was eleven o’clock. That was when I had been directed to apply another dose of icy hot substitute to my clit and nipples.

The first two trainees arrived and I greeted them with another million watt please give me permission to cum smile. Their eyes were glued to my breasts even as I introduced myself, with just a “I’m Breanne, let me show you to the training room.” They followed me and I swished a little, just to remind them that my ass was just as interesting as my breasts. For just a moment I wished my skirt was about four inches shorter, showing off my butt cheeks.

They greeted Danny warmly and too make a long story short, in about fifteen minutes there were twelve more guys sitting in the conference room, all with these massive laptop computers. I did a lot of swishing and I suspect when I wasn’t in the room I was a topic of conversation.

Right before eleven, Danny stepped over to me, told me to make sure each guy had what he needed, coffee, kolache, whatever. Then I was to go to his office, remove my halter top, put the icy hot on, and then return… without my shirt. This was all whispered to me and all I could do was nod.

I went to each man, bending over and literally pressing the sides of my breasts to their shoulders. I draped myself over each one, asking if they needed anything. A couple of coffee cups got refilled. A few kolaches were brought, and then I was excused to go to Danny’s office.

It went quick. The tingle was terrible, and I had to loosen the knot on my crotch rope in order to coat my clit, but I tightened it back up again when I was done. Then I tossed my halter top on Danny’s waiting room couch in the outer office, repositioned the clothespins so they stuck straight out. Then, heart thudding, hands trembling, I went back to the conference.

My entrance might be what you call distractive, since immediately thirteen sets of eyes went straight to my boobs. I flushed scarlet as the trainees started murmuring to each other, even as Danny grinned.

“Well it appears my assistant felt it necessary to dress more comfortably.” There was a snicker around the table. “Breanne, if you’ll please pass out those colored pens, I’d appreciate it.”

I did as I was told, passing out pens. Each trainee got a personal up close view of my breasts,complete with dangling clothespins. Then Danny directed me to a chair and told the trainees that if they needed anything, to just motion me over and ask me to get it for them.

Oh god… BORING. I don’t know what they talked about but every few minutes I was sent on some silly errand. Get me a kolache. Fill this cup. Can I have a glass of water. I need a new napkin. Almost all of the requests were contrived to put me back in view. I have no idea how they accomplished or learned anything. Having a half naked girl in your training meeting, with clothespins on her tits can’t be conducive for productive learning. But what they didn’t know was how much worse it was for me. The crotch rope was digging painfully at my clit and rubbing my pussy raw. Every step did two things: sexually excite me more and make it hurt.

At one point, at around twelve o’clock, one of the trainees got praised by Danny. My master for the day turned toward me, and told me to take the trainee to the office and reward him. I blinked, then figured it out. Here was my chance. With a grin, I took the startled trainee, practically dragged him to the office, plopped him down on the couch and immediately removed my skirt. You should have seen his eyes pop when he saw the crotch rope. I got down on my knees, got his pants open, sucked him into hardness and then asked the loaded question as I pulled a condom out of my bag.

“Can I take off this crotch rope so I can make you cum sir?”

Permission came immediately. So I took off the rope. Relief was glorious! I tugged the vibroballs out. Then I got the condom on him, straddled him, and bounced.

I was careful not to move in a way that would set me off. After just getting the damn rope off the last thing I wanted to do was put it back on. Screw that. We copulated for a few minutes, he came, played with my clamped nipples, and then we got up, got dressed, though I’m not sure you can call a pair of vibroballs, single skirt, and flip flops “dressed”, and went back to the meeting.

I figure the other guys knew immediately what had happened. Maybe I was glowing. Or maybe my last lover was. Beats me. All I know is that everyone was very animated, very involved, and everyone tried to answer questions first. Talk about motivation. I’m still sort of impressed. I sat down to watch, though I admit I was still shifting around a lot because of the plug. Not to mention the still vibrating balls buried in my pussy.

Right near one o’clock, Danny sent me off with another one of his trainees and we did a practical repeat of my earlier performance. I got the plug out, fucked his brains, and then put the vibroballs back in. To cap it off, I let the guy put the cream on my clit and nipples, which I guess was a lot of fun because he spent some serious time working it in. I still hadn’t cum, thanks mostly to the fact that I was running things in the office. We rejoined the group just as it was breaking up for lunch.

Danny had me go back to the office and get dressed again in my halter top and he asked me to remove the clothespins from my breasts. I acquiesced just like a good little slave girl and joined the group as we made a caravan toward the restaurant. Of course I had clamped my clit, which was terribly tender and I was getting really close to loosing control. The vibroballs, even on low, were doing their work and I had trouble walking into the restaurant. Danny supported me and I managed not to cum.

Lunch was fantastic. The conversation was funny, though there were a few humiliating moments when I got asked what NHPS was. Everyone thought it was a business. At one point during lunch, I excused myself and headed to the women’s restroom. It was right next to the men’s and as I approached a guy came out. I couldn’t help it. I stopped him.

“Please sir? Would you mind giving me permission to cum? I really need to!” I didn’t have to fake the urgency in my voice. He looked startled and I’m still pretty sure he didn’t understand, but he granted me permission anyway. As soon as he did, I darted into the women’s restroom, jumped into a stall, and masturbated.

I came quick, well under the time frame. I knew I would. I was almost ready to cum at the table. I sighed in relief, used the facilities, cleaned up, and rejoined my team at the table. Since we were in a corner and my back was to the restaurant crowd, Danny and the rest of the trainees amused themselves by having me flash and then do a variety of humiliating little tasks, like ice my nipples, or put ketchup on them and lick them clean. Thank God they’re big enough for that. Finally Danny collected the check and we left, heading back to the office. Danny had me lead everyone back to the conference room while he went to his office, coming back with a box. It was just after two thirty when we restarted the meeting and Danny had me strip, totally, in front of everyone. My clothespins went back on my tits and I held my remote in one hand from that point on, or at least until Danny sent me off with another one of his trainees.

I managed to cum this time. An authorized one too. He granted me permission and everything. It was a little awkward putting the vibroballs back in right after screwing, but I did, using some tissue from Danny’s office to clean up. At three I was getting worried about putting on my icy hot, but Danny beat me to it and “rewarded” another one of his trainees with the opportunity to coat my clit and nipples. I stood there at the table, arms behind my head while I was fondled and tingled and frozen and then heated, all at about the same time. It was intense. Fifteen minutes later I was sent out with another trainee and I had another orgasm. It wasn’t as intense, but it still rocked.

Four thirty approached and I could tell things were wrapping down. I had fucked Danny and four of the twelve trainees, and had plenty of orgasms. Danny asked me to the front of the room and pulled a chair out. He bent me over it, clothespin clamped nipples dangling down as my rear end was prominently on display. Danny kicked my legs apart, pulled out the vibroballs (and turned them off), and then pulled his box over.

The quiz began. Don’t ask me what the questions were, I didn’t understand them. I remember the acronymn SQL and something about HTML, or something like that, but that’s all. What I do remember was when someone answered the first question correctly, Danny pulled something out of the box.

That something was his ruler. Five quick snaps of the plastic across my ass had me squealing and tensing, my breasts shaking. Danny grinned and turned the chair, and me with it, so I was facing the table. Now I could see twelve intent faces. I looked down, but Danny grabbed my head and pulled it upward by my hair.

“Look at them,” he ordered.

I did, even as more questions, evidently answered correctly, resulted in further spanks. Then a question couldn’t be answered. I didn’t even understand the question. Danny reached into the box and pulled out two large metal paper binder clamps. You know, the big black ones? He reached under my chest, grabbed my left breast, removed the clothespin and applied the binder clamp instead. The squeal I let out was very loud. It hurt. A lot. I shook as the pain exploded through my tit and up into my arm. Another few questions sent the ruler across my ass and I was starting to feel the heat and sting when there was another period of silence and my right breast joined my left, bitten painfully with the binder clamp.

A few more questions had my ass burning and then we got to the third question no one knew the answer too. Danny pulled me upright, pushed me backward against the wall, told me to push my pussy out and then made me spread my legs. The ruler came up and it was all I could do not to scream as he pussy whipped me.

I cried out, asking for permission to cum, but no one granted it. I grit my teeth and tried to hold it in, but I couldn’t. I exploded, squirting wetly.

Danny stopped at that point. I was unceremoniously dumped in a chair, still naked, still clamped, but empty at the back of the room. I don’t recall things ending, but they did. Finally Danny was kneeling front of me, gentle hands pushing my thighs apart. I didn’t stop him as he pushed the vibroballs back inside me. He also had my butt plug and he pulled me off the chair and draped me over the conference table in order to stuff it back into me. Then he put on my rope thong, though he didn’t pull it tight. I just let him move me around like a doll.

He released the clamps on my nipples and I roused long enough to scream as the blood rushed back into the crushed nubs. I clung to him for a few minutes, but then he was letting me go, holding out my halter top and skirt. I stumbled through dressing. Then, he took the vibroballs remote, turned the nob up until it hit maximum, and tucked it in my waist band.

I can tolerate a lot of things, but those buzzing balls are not on the list, especially at full power. I moaned, swooned, clutched at him, eyes begging. He nodded. Then he pulled out the tube of muscle cream. When he was done I was shaking.

“Come on. I’ll take you to dinner. We’ll find a few strangers to help you out of those before you cum again.”

I nodded and went with him.

This is getting long so I’m going to cut to the chase. A quiet booth afforded us some privacy and our waiter was happy enough to give me permission to remove the hemp thong. My clit was so sore that I would have stripped on the front lawn of the White House with television cameras rolling at that point. Danny turned down the vibroballs to a more sedate speed so I was able to concentrate. Having a lot of sex earlier also helped.

After dinner he took me to a quiet bar! I didn’t drink much, but I did manage to get the butt plug out. Plus I got another dose of icy hot substitute. Then we went back to his place. We even passed my truck. At his house we made quiet love. He didn’t whip me, or hit me or anything and he was voracious. It was a quick fuck though. I guess he was really horny. Afterward we cleaned up and he browsed the blog and the website. We laughed. We talked. I had a glass of wine. I stayed stuffed and clamped. Then he drove me back toward home.

When we finally pulled up at my truck, Danny turned toward me and smiled. “I’m tempted to make you cum right now so you can spend the night in that crotch rope and plug.”

I gave him one of my looks. I REALLY didn’t want to do that. I was exhausted. It was nine o’clock at night, and I had already had to field several calls from my mom. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to your mom when you’re buzzing with vibroballs on medium with a plug in your ass?

He laughed at my expression, but got out of the car and then opened my door. He helped me out and carried my bag as we approached my truck. As I unlocked the truck, he put his hands on my waist, lifting me up into the cab. His fingers took hold of the remote and twisted the dial back up to maximum. I stiffened, gasping, my hips moving in and out. He pushed my skirt up and began flicking his finger back and forth across the clothespin on my clit.

I admit it. I came. I didn’t really have a choice. I was practically crying when he was done and he helped me stuff the plug in and then get the crotch rope back on. It was still scratchy and this time he pulled it tight, the knot once more resting above my clit. Then, even though it wasn’t required, he pushed up my halter top, put the clothespins on my nipples and gave me a quick kiss.

“Enjoy your evening, Breanne, nympho humiliation pain slut. I’ve got another training next month. I’ll call you.” He tucked a hundred dollar bill into my hand. “For today’s work.” Then he walked away, leaving me hurting, stuffed, clamped, and needy.

I turned the vibroballs down, started the truck and realized there was no way I was going to go home and spend the night in the damn hemp thong or butt plug, so instead I drove into town. A dark parking lot afforded me a nice gentleman who gladly gave me permission to remove the crotch rope in exchange for a blowjob. The anal plug was just as easy to remove. Finally I headed for home, nipples still clamped, pussy stuffed with vibroballs on low.

I took a shower, removed the clothespin and vibroballs, and slipped my husky dildo in for the night. Then I slept.

So… how am I this morning? Sore. Am I horny? Nope. Not really. I’ve still got the husky dildo in, but since it’s not vibrating, I’m not in too much trouble. I don’t have to go anywhere today, or ride the tractor, or a horse, so I think I might just actually be able to avoid having that damn alligator clamp on my clit. There’s a thought.

Well, one more day to go. Tomorrow I have to wear my chastity belt, full set, with all the vibrators on (though thank God on medium and low) while hunting for targets…all day. Maybe by tomorrow I’ll be ready for it.

My love to everyone…



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