Daily Assignment 11/30/10 Sensitive

Sensitive

11/30/10

I settled down in the soft sheets, wiggling my toes under the covers. The smooth cotton felt good against my bare skin. I was naked, completely, terribly, awesomely naked. I twisted to the side table and picked up the small bottle of oil, temporarily ignoring the other items on the flat surface next to the bed. I popped the cap open and poured a quick dribble onto my chest, followed by my fingers which began rubbing it into my breasts. My nipples hardened almost instantly and I closed my eyes as the little sparks of pleasure shot up from my nipples and along my spine. Some went to my brain, I'm sure, but a few went downward as well, causing my pussy to have a little spasm. My left hand slid down over my stomach, finding the bump of my mons and then slipping into the folds, paying special attention to my clit. I rubbed for a little bit, moaning softly as my clit swelled and my fingers glided over it back and forth.

I could feel myself ripening, getting ready, my pussy getting moist, wanting cock. I stuck one finger down into my hole and then traced back up my stomach to my mouth. MMmmm Shuddering in desire and want, I leaned back over to the table and grabbed my ben wa balls. Two pink latex covered golf ball sized spheres filled my hand. The small string connecting them kept the two spheres together as I rattled them around in my hand. I touched them to my skin, dragging them down my oil slicked body toward my sex. I moaned as they touched my clit, sliding over them. Each sphere was filled with a weight that moved as I rolled them, sliding down the petals toward my well. I groaned, rubbing them against my folds, pressing them hard against my nub. Lightning flashed through me and I moved them away from the sensitive nerve bundle and pushed them into myself. My pussy contacted around them as they sank in deep.

I took my hand away as my loins reacted to the internal pressure. My hips rolled, involuntarily thrusting as I adjusted to being filled. I tried to concentrate, to calm down, and only managed to turn myself on even more. Perhaps the lazy circles my fingers were drawing across my breasts, touching my nipples, even as my hips were thrusting, were distracting me.

I kept rubbing. Close to desperation I let go of my nipple and reached back over to the table. My fingers found the clamps with ease. Two metal toothed alligator clamps, attached together with a thin steel chain came with my hand and I examined the little tooth filled mouths with sexual interest. There were no pads, no rubber, no plastic to protect me from the spring driven jaws. I had worn them before, often even, knowing that the results would be tiny red toothmarks where they bit. I'd even drawn blood before. With trembling fingers I pinched open one of the clamps and cupped my left breast. My nipple stood up, hard and ready and I could feel my quickening heart beat. I positioned the clamp so that it would hang downward from my breast, the chain toward my belly. Then I slowly released the pressure on the clamp, letting the cruel sharp teeth close on my nipple.

Pain. It shot up through my tit as if someone had just shoved a needle through my nipple. And it didn't stop. It went on and on. I grit my teeth, my right hand finding my clit and pressing hard against it with the palm of my hand. A wash of pleasure came with the pain and I felt it change slightly, mixing into something less feral, less hurtful, but even more intense. Still trembling, still groaning, I picked up the other clamp and positioned it over my right nipple, letting it bite down, chewing on my nub with agonizing pressure. The chain felt cold on my stomach.

It hurt. Oh god yes it hurt. It was almost too much. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain radiated up from my breasts. But my hips moved again and soon all I felt was a dull throb filled with heat and need. My fingers rubbed my clit again, touching, stroking, pinching, until that need was like a hungry fire looking for fuel. I wanted to be stuffed so desperately. I rolled, my nipples still throbbing in agony as I reached for the bedside table. I found the third clamp, larger, easier to manipulate, but just as cruel as the two I had just attached to myself. This one too was an alligator clamp, but one that applied slightly less pressure despite its larger size. It was easily as long as my forefinger and I touched it, unopened, to the spot between my breasts and ran it downward.

My clit was swollen, but it still reacted to the touch of the clamp. The metal was cold and sent a shiver through me starting between my legs. Shaking now more from fear than from desire, I pinched the clamp open and set it above my clitoral hood, knowing that when it closed, it would lock my tender and exposed clit in a painful exposed bite, preventing the sensitive nub from disappearing back into its protective covering. I did it quickly, letting it clamp me and it was everything I could do to keep from screaming as the pain shot up through my body. It was like being burned, or electrocuted. It was all consuming, laced with sexual frustration and need.

But even as I was having the sexual muscle spasms that forced my clit clamped pussy thrusting upward, virtually fucking the imaginary man above me, I felt the pain turn to heat and then settle. I could still feel the teeth. I could still experience the pain, but now the sexual aspect had become the predominant sensation and what I really needed was a good solid fucking.

Once more my hand went to the table, grabbing the large plastic vibrator from off the flat plane. I twisted the base immediately, setting it to maximum, the mechanical hum and rattle as the little weighted motor inside began spinning wildly, slightly off center. I moved it downward, longing to ram it in deeply, to push the ben wa balls aside and thrust it in hard. But I didn't. I wasn't allowed to. Instead I took the violently vibrating tip and carefully set it against my exposed clitoris and the clamp.

There is no metaphor that describes what it felt like. It was terribly intense, totally depraved, insanely impractical, and felt.... awesome. It felt awesome.

I cried out, my body beginning to shake from both the torment and torture. My nerves fired in rapid succession, telling my brain that it was too much, too fast, too powerful. My toes curled, tightening as I suddenly pushed, and pushed hard, on the vibrator, forcing the alligator clamp to move against my clitoral hood and sending the most vehement vibrations into my super sensitized nub.

And then I came. I don't know if it hurt or felt good. It was like fucking a god. It was like fucking dynamite at the moment of combustion. It was like fucking the business end of a jackhammer combined with a weeks worth of sexual buildup. It was maniacal. It was mental. It was crazy.

After I exploded I lifted the vibrator away from my clit. It hurt. I twisted it to off and just laid there, trying to settle, trying to let some of the screaming nerves between my legs regain some sense of normality.

I didn't take off the clamps, despite the metal teeth digging deeper. I knew what had to happen next. As ordered, I lifted the vibrator, turned it on to maximum, and pressed it against the alligator clamp on my clit. The vibrations streamed down, violently shaking the metal as the little dull jaws sank deeper into my flesh. I whimpered, then groaned and held it there until I started to feel the same sort of sensations as before; a frantic buildup of sexual need, of desperation, of agony. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, like poking at a bruise, or constantly tonguing a canker sore. Add the sexual component and in less than ten minutes I was ready again. It took longer this time, but I came, exploding in such tension that I literally lifted up from the bed, curling almost into a fetal position, my face buried in the pillow as I screamed out my orgasm. My legs clenched together, thighs trapping the vibrator against the clamp and my clit. I felt it shaking and I grabbed hold of the pillow and held it tightly, trying to deal with the vibrations.

There is a kitchen utensil Kari used to have. I have no idea what it was called, or what it was supposed to be for. It was just a thin one millimeter thick rubber rod connected to a battery driven motor in a handle. If you know what it's called, let me know. The rod was gray and whipped around on the handle, but wasn't much of a buzzing vibrator type toy. Occasionally Kari would use it on me, pressing it to my clit or my nipples, but it wasn't a vibrator, and never had the power to really get me off. But one day I watched her pull it out while we had one of her dates tied to her bed. He had already endured three hours worth of milking and we must have had made him cum maybe six or seven times at that point.

This ISN'T what Kari had, but it's as close as I could find on the internet.
The one Kari owned had a white handle, with a rubber attachment sticking out of it.

She lubed the rod on that little device and then slowly worked it INTO his cock. Imagine that. I don't have to. He yelled. A lot. So much that Kari had me straddle his face and push my pussy over his mouth to keep him quiet. Once Kari had three inches worth of rubber rod in his cock, she turned the tool on and began jacking him off. You should have seen the thrashing. My God... it was... awful.

And that's how I felt after that second orgasm. Curled into a ball, I slowly rolled onto my stomach. The clamps on my nipples dug in painfully, tugging in odd ways and the still roaring vibrator shifted position slightly between my legs, so that its full length stretched along my pussy. The base was vibrating the clamp, the middle was pressed tightly on my still exposed clit, and the rest was lodged firmly between my swollen petals, sending never ending tremors through my sex like a New York City Jackhammer crew.

I pushed my pillow underneath me, cushioning my hips before I started thrusting my abused clit against the soft down sheets. I could feel the vibrator sliding through my slit with each thrust, never granting me what I wanted: penetration. My clit seemed to swell, to protest the violent shuddering of the vibrator, but I ignored it, totally intent on working myself up toward the third fever pitched explosion. It took longer this time. A lot longer. Almost a full twenty minutes and my clitoris vacillated between burning and ecstasy as if some demented madman was alternating holding a blow torch to my clit and sucking on it steadily. It was maddening. Finally I came, teeth clenched, my body rigid as I rolled again, desperate to get the vibrator away from my sex in any way possible. It got tossed aside, still buzzing and slightly wet on the bed next to me as my chest heaved, the chain between my alligator clamped nipples slipping on my ribs. Everything hurt; my breasts, my clit, my sex. Everything. I wiped the tears away. Still caught in the jaws of the tight clamps, I slowly let myself down, legs spread, cool air from my ceiling fan caressing my sore and protruding clit. I reached out and turned off the vibrator. Blessed silence...

I don't know if it was ten or fifteen minutes later when I finally sat up, scooting back, legs still spread, until I was propped up on my bolster. I looked down at myself. My nipples were red and very tender, each still caught in the tight lock of the alligator nipple clamps. The chain had left imprints on my skin, leaving thin red marks along the cream colored flesh. Farther down, my clit was bright red, bulging out from the bite of the clamp. Pain still shot up from it, but it was more of a dull throb at this point. I dreaded what it would feel like when I took the clamp off. I reached down to touch, but then chickened out. I didn't want to touch myself. I was afraid of how it would feel. I didn't want another orgasm.

But that's what the assignment had required. Four orgasms. One right after the other, stuffed with ben wa balls, and wearing alligator clamps. No penetration either, just my clit and the vibrator. It was agony. It was ecstasy. It was torture. With shaking fingers I picked up the vibrator, and turned it on again, all the way up. I lifted it, spreading my knees as far apart as possible. With exposed thighs, I ran the vibrator down from my splayed knee toward my reddened pussy.

I started off by touching the vibe to the clamp, and even that was bad. If ever there was a time I needed someone there with me to tie me spread-eagled to the bed, forcing my legs apart, to hold the vibe against my clit, the clamp, to torture me, to hurt me, to make me cum over and over, it was right then. My will power was insufficient and I could barely stand the pressure of the vibrator against the alligator clamp between my legs. I kept pulling away as pain rushed through me. Every time I tried, I failed. It was just too much.

"Need some help?" Kari asked from the doorway. She was wearing a black negligee that left so much of her perfect body exposed. I nodded, tears in my eyes.

"I want too. I just... can't." I said, almost sobbing. Kari smiled and came over to the bed. She took the vibrator away from me and then kissed me softly.

"Raise your hands, Breanne," she whispered. I followed her orders. The cuffs were already attached to the headboard above me. I felt the cold steel encircle my wrists, binding me tightly. No matter what I did I would not be able to free myself. Then she moved to my ankles. Thick leather bondage cuffs were attached, pulling me tight, but not to the corners of the bed, put out sideways, spreading me obscenely wide, as if I were some sort of perverted gymnast or dancer, caught permanently in the splits while my pussy lay clamped and exposed for all to see. I felt the tension in my thighs and the rippling effect of the alligator clamp on my pussy. Then Kari climbed up onto the bed and pressed the still buzzing vibrator against my right nipple. For maybe five minutes she tormented my bosom, vibrating the still clamped nipples until they were red and sensitive. She bent down and licked one, over the clamp and I almost came just from that. Then she held the vibrator like a pen and touched the tip of the shuddering toy directly to my clit.

I pulled and strained on my cuffs. My legs tugged painfully as I tried to move away. I was too taut though and couldn't even shift my position. I began begging her to stop, to take the vibrator away from me, to touch me anywhere else, to shove the vibrator into my pussy... anything.

But she didn't. She held it there, right on my clit, never stopping, never moving it, just rubbing it back and forth across one little spot. I shook. I screamed. I whimpered. I begged. I yelled. I demanded her to stop. But I had given up my safe words with Kari years ago. There was nothing I could do. I started to go crazy. I said things, things I don't even remember. My arms were sore from pulling on the cuffs and red lines had appeared on my wrists. My brain shut down to everything but the roaring inferno between my legs.

I came, but I'm not sure I should call it an orgasm. I mean, sure, I suppose it was. But I barely remember it. I knew when it was over because Kari was letting me up and I looked down to see her holding the clamp that had been on my clit. Evidently she had taken it off while I was in the throes of my orgasm. She tossed it aside and then pulled the chain between my breasts. She didn't pull the clamps off, thank God, but she did squeeze each of them open. I cried out as blood rushed back into my crushed nipples. Tiny red marks were clearly visible on my breasts. Kari held me as I cried, kissing my hair and face over and over.

It took me about thirty minutes to recover, all of which I spent still bound to Kari's bed. When I finally felt somewhat normal I told Kari I was ready to be let up. She grinned and pulled out a rubber ball gag from the bedside table drawer. My eyes widened as she set it down on the bed next to me and then picked up the large alligator clamp and the vibrator, holding them up above me.

"It's going to cost you, Breanne. But don't worry. You can scream all you want."

I began to protest but she shoved the ball into my mouth and quickly buckled it in. It muffled my screams as the clamp went back on, the burning pain blossoming in my clit. Kari gave the clamp a little flick and then turned on the vibrator, to maximum, lowering it down until it touched me.

And it was agony and it was ecstasy.