I have a bit of a back log of assignments right now, and choosing which one to do next is sometimes a difficult proposition. First, I have to consider how I feel. Am I up to doing whatever the assignment asks for? Next I have to take into account my readers. Is there a balance with the previous assignment? I don’t want to bore anyone, so I try to alternate between punishment and humiliation assignments. Then of course comes environmental issues. This is why I chose to do this next assignment last Saturday afternoon: sunny, high of a little over eighty, and perfect for washing cars.
Just a little after lunch I prepped my bag, waved bye to my family, tossed a few odds and ends into my truck and climbed aboard. I was dressed in my boots, tube socks, jeans, white cotton panties, a button up blue western shirt, bra, and of course I was stuffed with my ben wa balls, two clapper filled spheres that rung lightly with every step. The last item isn’t exactly an outfit accessory, but more of a requirement. NHPS Rule #1 states that I have to be stuffed at all times, either with cock or an object. My ben wa balls fit that requirement rather nicely, just like they fit my pussy.
I drove to the south end of my farm, parking on the farm to market road that borders our property. I got out, moved to the front of my truck, tossed my bag on the hood, and started.
Stripping of course.
I like to work top to bottom, so I began with unbuttoning my shirt. This got peeled off, folded, and placed on the hood of the truck. My bra went next, leaving my bare skin exposed. I probably picked up the pace at this point, moving down to my boots and kicking them off. Tough to push jeans down over a pair of cowboy boots. Once I was standing in my socks I shoved my jeans down my legs, stepped out of them, and added them to the growing pile of folded laundry on the truck hood. The ben wa balls seemed to churn even more impatiently inside me, my exposure creating fresh sexual tension inside me. I love it! My panties went next, and then my socks, and I was standing there bare ass naked. I opened my bag and prepared to follow Master Barrett’s instructions.
The first thing I pulled out was a pair of white cotton shorts. Now I have to admit, these things are not exactly appropriate. I didn’t just pick them up at Wal-Mart either. First of all, they’re cut like Daisy Duke shorts. A lot of cheek hangs out and the crotch is more like a bikini than a true pair of shorts. The other problem with them is that you have to be pretty careful what color panties you wear with them. Any color other than white will show up through the thin cotton, even dry. Of course, this wasn’t that much of a problem for me since I wasn’t going to wear panties. I pulled the shorts up, settling them into place. I had to wiggle my ass a bit, since the shorts were also a bit too tight. Not around the waist of course, but between the legs. While I’m used to having something pressing into my crotch, it still feels weird wearing a pair of shorts that ride up into the crack of your ass and even mold themselves to your pussy. I felt like I was getting a wedgie even as I was presenting a rather fascinating camel toe for anyone looking at me.
Of course, there wasn’t anyone looking at me. Not yet anyway. The road was disappointingly empty as I picked out my shirt and slipped it over my head. It was a halter top, incredibly white, a little too thin, since you could actually see my nipples through the material even while dry, and cut short, just under my breasts. Lastly, I took a pair of cheap white sneakers out of the bag and stuck my feet into them.
I hope I’ve done a good job describing what I was wearing. Or my “attire” as Michael so nicely put it. I threw everything in the truck and headed out to the nearest subdivision.
I’ve done enough exploring now that it wasn’t that hard to find a cul-de-sac with five or six houses around the circle, all with cars parked out front. I parked my truck down the road just a bit, grabbed the bucket, sponge, and cleaner from the bed of the truck, and trudged up to the very first house.
It was a typical one story, brick faced, high peaked, middle income, Texas family home. Curtains and blinds hung in the windows and the lawn was nicely manicured. Ah… domestic bliss right? I took a deep breath, stepped up to the door, and rang the doorbell.
I could see through the large oval pane of frosted glass movement inside, but it was a moment before the door opened, revealing a tall thin man with slightly graying hair and a receding hair line. His eyes widened slightly as he took in my appearance, his gaze no doubt lingering over my nipples, which in addition to actually being somewhat visible through the cloth, had risen into hard little bumps pressing against my halter top. What can I say? I was turned on!
“Can I help you?” he asked politely, getting over his shock at my appearance. I smiled at him, one of my million watt please let me masturbate on top of your car, getting both of us wet smiles.
“Hi! My name is Breanne and I’m doing a car wash for charity! I was wondering if you’d like me to wash your car for five dollars. All I need is a little water!” I put on my most vapid expression of stupid innocence and beamed up at him. Hmmm…in hindsight, maybe I should have dyed my hair blond. Oh well. Even brunettes can be clueless, right?
One eyebrow arched upward and he gave me this disbelieving look. “Seriously?” he asked.
Why does everyone ask me that? I swear it’s a fucking epidemic. Yes. Seriously. I could ask a person the time of day and I’m positive he’d come back with “seriously? The time?” Sigh… its just so irritating.
I nodded stupidly, still grinning from ear to ear. Finally he shrugged. “The hose is around on the north side of the house.”
I thanked the man even as the door closed. Uh… he was supposed to watch. Oh well, right? I tottered around to the side of the house, found the hose, tugged it to the drive way, filled my bucket with soapy water, sprayed the car (a nice Toyota Camry) and began washing it with my sponge.
I was being watched.
I saw the curtains flicker a bit here and there and so I put a little more effort into my work. Oh… not cleaning the car, though I did do a good job with that. I put more effort into getting myself wet. To be honest, the ben wa balls and the entire situation had done a pretty good job of soaking my crotch, but a gentle squeeze on the sponge sent a white soapy stream down my upraised arm, over one side of my breast, down my stomach, and down the front of my shorts. By the time I finished washing the car I was terribly horny, soaked all down the front, and showing the parts of me that clothing is generally supposed to conceal. Thank God I shave, otherwise my pussy would have been REALLY obvious.
I rinsed off the car, and myself, and then squelched my way in wet sneakers up to the front door. Once again I adopted that empty headed, totally oblivious, “blond” expression and knocked politely.
“All done!” I announced in a high pitched, happy cheer like voice when the door opened.
The man’s eyes took me in, especially the fact that my shirt was more than a little see through. He was holding a five dollar bill. I accepted it gratefully and thanked him. He licked his lips and nodded and then coughed.
“You um… do realize…uh… that your clothing… is uh… a bit wet,” he pointed out, rather delicately I might add.
I pretended to act surprised, but didn’t even look down. “Well of course it’s wet!” I replied with a grin. “I just washed your car! Tough to wash a car and not get wet” I bubbled. Then I bowed slightly. “Well thanks again! More cars to wash!” And I turned around, showed him my wet rear end, and walked on down the sidewalk and around to the next house.
Clutching the five dollar bill in my hand, I realized I had made one tiny mistake. I had no pockets in the shorts, or shirt, and nothing to carry the money in. I kept it in my hand as I rang the doorbell of house number two. This time a woman answered and I repeated my performance.
Are you wondering why I was going through this whole “oblivious” thing? Well, it’s because that is what Master Barrett wanted. To be exact, this is what he told me:
Breanne - Ok now this is the important bit. You are to at all times appear to be oblivious to the fact that you are essentially naked, so no playing with yourself, and if someone should point it out you will act surprised, then just carry on as if it doesn't matter. You are to act as if you don't understand any sexual advances made to you and also are not allowed to make yourself cum.
See? Pretty intense.
I went through my spiel, explaining who I was, what I wanted to do, and how much it would cost. Through it all the lady at the door stared down at me in disapproving distaste. With what could only be called snobbishness, she looked down her nose at me and politely told me her car didn’t need washing.
So I lowered my price. No good. She closed the door in my face.
The next door yielded up a twelve year old boy who evidently wasn’t quite interested in girls yet, since he yelled for his father when I asked if his dad was home. A paunchy but nice looking man came down dressed in khaki shorts and a tee shirt and stopped dead when he saw me standing in his doorway. Before I could even present my case he looked at me and said “do you have any idea that you’re practically naked?”
I pretended. Confusion crossed my face. “Naked?” I asked quizzically. “No I’m not. I’m wearing a shirt and shorts,” I replied, feigning stupidity.
He sighed and motioned with his hand. “Your clothes are wet. I can see through them,” he reiterated. I cocked my head to the side and pretended I didn’t understand. Then I asked “are you like Superman? With X-ray vision?” I can be a smart ass even while being stupid.
He just stood there, lost in bewilderment, so I started my spiel for the third time. When I was finished he gave me this weird expression and then said the one word I was dreading.
I nodded, swallowing my irritation at being asked that AGAIN.
“For five bucks.”
“Sure whatever,” he replied. “Let me get you the hose.” He came out of the house and walked me around to the side where he helped me get out the long green line and drag it around to the front. A black pickup, a little smaller than my own, sat in the drive way. He stood there while I filled my bucket, watching as I accidentally soaked myself again.
I pressed my body frequently to the side of the truck as I did the roof and hood. I tried really hard not to be “sexual”, so no washing the truck with my tits, or masturbating on the hood, though I admit I wanted to do it. Then ben wa balls were making things a bit difficult on me and it was everything I could do to prevent myself from humping the guy’s trailer hitch while I washed the tailgate.
Finally I was done and I was covered in suds. Literally. I rinsed off the truck and then, since my audience was still there, I turned toward him and asked him if he would rinse me off since I was soapy.
To be honest, the foamy soap had actually done a better job concealing my curves, nipples, and pussy better than my clothing, and rinsing me off exposed everything again. I stood there, fingers interlocked behind my head, legs spread wide as the guy with the hose directed the cold water at my chest. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure he targeted my nipples, since the stream seemed to focus on those points rather exclusively. Of course he also played the water over my crotch and I almost swooned in ecstasy as the heavy water pelted my clit, even through the shorts. I turned around after a moment, bent over, and grabbed my rear, spreading my butt cheeks and giving him another opportunity to spray me.
The water went from a heavy stream to a thin sharp spray, directed precisely into my butt crack. It hit my pussy as well and I squealed a bit and jumped, giving him a surprised look.
He shrugged. “Sorry. You had a bit of soap there.”
My goodness what a lie! But two could play that way.
“Did you get it all?” I asked, pretending to look down at my crotch.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
I gave him another vapid stupid smile. “Would you mind getting it all? I don’t want to walk around soapy.”
This time however I leaned against the side of his truck (the side away from his house of course) and spread my legs wide. He directed the water up between my legs, his thumb pressing the water into a hard sharp spray that seemed to penetrate the thin cotton, exciting my clit.
I was so horny. My hips started to thrust and then the hose was inches away from my clit, water splattering upward and outward as I cried out, clinging to the truck bed. The orgasm washed through me, wringing me out like a wet rag. I could actually see my flushed cheeks in the window reflection. My tormentor pulled the hose away from my body and asked if I was okay.
I nodded, taking a deep breath. Then I once again adopted the innocent crazy girl pose, gave him a warm smile and said “Thanks! I had no idea that washing cars would feel so good, or be so fun!”
We exchanged a few pieces of small talk as I refilled my bucket, put up the hose, and generally paraded around practically naked. I was feeling really good by this time, though I admit that the ben wa balls were keeping the coals warm. Finally I was rewarded with a five dollar bill, a peck on the cheek, and a warm cupping of my bottom. Then I went down the line to the next house.
For a moment, it was like looking in a mirror. Brunette, twenty something girl, tee shirt, shorts, bare feet, and a warm smile greeted me at the door, at least until she looked at my outfit.
“My god! How can you walk around like that?” she asked me, eyes wide and staring at my front. I blushed a little, but maintained my “oblivious” persona.
“Like what?” I asked, pretending to be confused.
“Like that! Naked!” she said, motioning at my outfit. I looked down at my chest, clearly seeing my nipples through the thin and wet cotton and then looked back at her, a carefully crafted expression of mindless innocence.
“I don’t understand. I’m dressed.” I replied, a tone of bewilderment in my voice.
“Seriously?” she asked.
I restrained the sudden urge to drag her to the ground, beat her senseless and then rape her. I know… extreme, but I can’t tell you how much that question is beginning to get to me. Instead, I changed tack, and merely explained who I was and what I wanted to do.
“You’re washing cars? Dressed like that?” she eyed me suspiciously. “Are you some sort of slut?”
I wish I had been able to respond properly. “Yes, I am a slut. I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut and I’m stuffed with ben wa balls. I just was given an orgasm by your neighbor, who used a garden hose to spray my clit, but if you want to beat me with a garden hose there I’ll let you. Please let me wash your car and strip naked and you can even whip me while I use my tongue on you.”
But instead I just looked a little baffled and said “I’m doing this for charity,” as if I was a mental incompetent.
I realized that she was actually a bit younger than me, maybe only twenty or twenty one. But she gave me this look of snobbish tolerance and shrugged. “Go for it sweetie. If you want to put your self on display…” her voice trailed off.
With that she closed the door and I was left to my own devices. I went around to the side of the house, got the hose, and sprayed down her car. It was a cheap little sedan, a Kia actually, and I immediately got to work. It didn’t take long to clean, but just as I was finishing, a truck pulled up into the driveway. A young man got out, his eyes glued to my wet body, easily visible through the transparent clothing. As he approached I heard the front door open and the girl I had spoken with earlier came out.
“Geeze, Shelly, you weren’t kidding,” he said. “She is practically naked.” He nodded at me. “You like dressing like that, slut?”
The tone in his voice caused a bit of conflict in me. Part of me wanted to go up to him and rip his face off, which isn’t nice. The other part of me wanted to blush, humiliated, and then go and kneel in front of him, get out his cock, and suck him until his cum was spurting into my face. I sort of settled for an in between response, staying in my “innocent” persona.
I adopted an expression of complete bewilderment and replied “excuse me? I don’t understand.”
“Only a slut would wear an outfit like that,” he replied, nodding toward my see-thru ensemble.
“I wore this because I didn’t want my regular clothes getting wet and ruined,” I said, perhaps a little harshly. Let’s be honest. An innocent girl would probably get a little mad at this point, right?
He gave Shelly, the girl from the house a smile, and then turned back to me. “Shit. I wonder what your regular clothes look like. I want my truck washed.”
“It will be five bucks,” I gave him a rather direct look.
“How much to do it naked?” he asked me.
“Excuse me? I can’t do it naked!” I said, feigning shock.
Shelly sneered. “Why? You’re practically doing it now.”
I stuttered my response. “Because it would be improper!”
There was a brief and muted conversation between Shelly and the boy and I saw the family resemblance. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but brother and sister, with the girl being two or three years older. I waited, wondering if I was still going to have to wash the truck. They seemed to agree on something and then I was directed to start washing.
Now I’m not stupid, despite the way I was acting, and I knew something was up. But I admit I was intrigued. I worked steadily and when I was done with the truck I turned back to the Shelly’s brother, who had stayed outside to watch me (of course), and asked for my ten bucks. Shelly hadn’t paid me yet either.
I got invited inside. Yep. A smart girl would have not only hesitated but refused. A dim-witted, oblivious innocent like my current persona would have been totally happy to go in. And of course a nympho humiliation pain slut would have been moving toward the door seconds after the invitation was made. I thanked Shelly’s brother, grabbed my gear, put it down on the front porch, and went inside, followed closely by Shelly’s brother.
The inside of the house was fairly clean and orderly and the only weird thing was the giant three dimensional Titanic puzzle sitting on the coffee table, as if it were some sort of special statue. That was ignored of course and Shelly’s brother stepped around me and the puddle of water I was dripping into and led me to the kitchen.
Shelly was there, still dressed in the tee shirt and shorts, pouring what looked like ice tea into several glasses. I got offered a towel, and a drink. I admit I was a bit thirsty so I drank it, thanked her and then asked about the money.
“Charles?” Shelly asked. I turned and looked at her brother who stepped up behind me and suddenly my wrists were grabbed, pulled up over my head and held fast.
“We’re going to pay you something special,” he whispered in my ear.
Okay. I know all of you are screaming RAPE! THIS IS RAPE! And yes, I suppose technically it was. Except for one thing. I WANTED IT. Not being raped of course, but sex. My pussy was trembling from the ben wa balls, my nipples were hard and getting banged by siblings was an intriguing idea. I didn’t resist, but sorta retreated into the “innocent girl” persona. I have to admit though, the whole thing was a stupid idea. I mean seriously, raping a girl at your own HOUSE? Is that not stupid or what? They were lucky I was willing.
Shelly came up and lifted my shirt, exposing my breasts. I whimpered, but what I really wanted was for her to touch me. Both of them did. Charles freed one hand and groped while Shelly pinched my nipples. I was sort of dragged and pushed into the living room where I was thrown to the floor and then the two of them were on top of me, pulling my white shorts off and tossing them away.
“What the fuck?” asked Shelly’s brother as he found the string dangling from my pussy. He pulled on it as I moaned, Shelly holding my arms down, and the ben wa balls came rattling out of my sex. “You ARE a slut!” Charles said. He tossed my ben wa balls aside and then he was pushing his shorts down, exposing his cock. Evidently being naked in front of big sister wasn’t a big deal. Before he was in position however, Shelly had pushed her own shorts down, exposing a nicely trimmed slit and straddled my face. Just as my tongue slipped into her folds, I felt Charles push into me.
I spent the next hour fucking, sucking, slurping, and being twisted into the weirdest three person positions possible. At no point did Charles and Shelly screw each other, or even touch each other. But if one was between my legs, the other was either at my breasts or mouth. They took turns alternating and it was exhausting. I came like three or four times. It was incredible. It was Shelly who discovered I liked it to hurt a bit, and pinching, slapping, and then spanking became much more prevalent in our sexual calisthenics. At one point I was riding Charles while Shelly spanked me every time I bounced on his cock. Finally we ended up with Shelly on the floor, legs spread, with my mouth sucking on her clit, while Charles butt fucked me.
Sated, we all sort of fell over in a heap and about ten minutes later I was pushed off Shelly. Charles got up, left the room for a bit, came back dressed and with ten dollars. He gathered my stuff up in his arms (which wasn’t much I admit) and then literally pulled me up from on top of his sister and shoved me naked out the front door. He dumped my shoes, clothes, the ben wa balls, and then two bills on the ground and shut the door in my face. He only said one word.
So I got dressed.
The ben wa balls went back inside me, which felt sort of good. It was a bit harder to get into my clothing, since it was still pretty damp, but I managed. I grabbed my bucket and sponge and cleaner, as well as the other money I had earned (for charity of course!) and moved on down the cul-de-sac to the final house.
My knocking was answered by another middle aged man who treated my appearance as something of a pleasant surprise. His response to my offer of car washing was a grin and the comment that his wife was out shopping so why not? He followed me out to the driveway, helped me get the hose, and then leaned against the wall watching me clean his car.
At one point when I was rinsing, Charles came out, waved at the guy, and then shouted that I was a good fuck. I turned scarlet I’m sure, but continued with the whole washing and rinsing process. Charles went back inside and when I finished I emptied out the bucket and went back up to my latest customer.
“Sorry about that kid. He’s a prick,” the man said to me, still smiling. I nodded and thanked him, noticing that his eyes were glued to my see-thru top. “Come on. I’ll get you the cash,” he said.
I followed him up to the door and he stepped into the foyer. I wasn’t invited inside, but followed anyway when he left the door open. This house was much nicer inside than Shelly’s and I stood dripping on the hallway tiles as he disappeared into the interior. When he came back he was holding the money and a towel. He handed the towel to me first.
“Thanks” I said, accepting it. I admit I made a bit of a show about it. I dried off my hair, my breasts, my butt, and my legs. The way he stared at me was just so… intense. I couldn’t help it. Something passed between the two of us, and we didn’t even speak. He came closer and I dropped the towel on the floor, kneeled on it, and motioned him to come closer. He did, and I reached out, unzipped his fly, and got out his cock.
Have you ever had a blow job in your foyer, with the front door open, given by a girl who might as well be naked thanks to a combination of inappropriate attire and water? No? I guess it doesn’t happen that often. Maybe I need to fix that. Where do you live? LOL. Anyway, I gave him a really nice blow for his buck and when he had cum, spurting white cream into my mouth and across my cheeks, he gasped, sighed and then pulled up his jeans and tucked everything away.
“My god, that was the best I’ve ever had. Wish my wife could do that.” He looked down at me for a moment and then laughed. “So was that kid right? Are you a good fuck?”
I gave him one of my million watt please strip me, wash me, soap me down, and fuck me silly smiles. “I’m the best,” I replied.
He sighed. “Wish I had time to test that, but my wife will be home any moment, and I’ll be in a lot of trouble if you’re still here.” He shook his head in disappointment. He reached out and pulled me to my feet. “Thanks for the blowjob though. It was top notch.” He handed me forty bucks.
I thanked him, gathered up my stuff and headed out the door. It closed behind me with a regretful click and I walked back to my truck, practically naked, a little bothered, and ready for more. I drove off still dressed in my white halter top and shorts, still wet, hard nipples poking through transparent cloth. My pussy was starting to pulse again. All that walking, the blowjob, it all translated into a need. I wondered if there were more cars to wash somewhere.
So where is YOUR car parked?