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Just as I was finishing up yesterday's post, I felt the oncoming surge of another orgasm. My body was pretty much at the edge already. My nipples were throbbing, still stuck in the binder clamps, and the anal beads were vibrating away in my rear end. It was driving me crazy and I sat there in front of the screen, gripping the desk as I shuddered to a climax. I had been granted a sort of "clemency" during my writing by Michael. I had been allowed to turn the vibroballs down to low, but he told me that if I came, I still had to follow Master Barrett's punishment schedule. It took around four hours to write the entire post and about half way through I had my first orgasm. That had resulted in the quick lubrication of my anal beads with Stinging O, and a rather distracting irritant. Then, about three quarters of the way through I had a SECOND orgasm, and that resulted in my putting on the binder clamps. Oh God did they hurt! So let me tell you, writing was a bitch yesterday.
At around nine though I knew I needed to get the anal beads and the binder clamps off me, and since I had NOT been granted a way to remove them myself, I ended up sneaking out of the house after my parents had gone to bed. I roared off in the truck, my bag beside me. Of course my first stop was the side of the road. I hurried out in front of the truck, stripped out of the denim skirt and sweat shirt I was wearing, left the binder clamps and vibro balls on and in, and pulled out the little school girl outfit. Red plaid and white blouse went on over my naked and bare skin and I slipped my feet out of the flip flops and into my stripper shoes.
Then I went driving.
It was a quick outing. I just went up to the gas station. I pulled up under the florescent lights, got out of the truck, and headed in. There was only one car in the lot and that guy was by the beer section, deciding whether to go with less filling or great taste. I sauntered right up to him, smiled, and asked him if he could do me a favor.
His eyes popped out of his skull, rolled across the floor, and then slammed back into his head with an audible click. I decided to help that shock value by unbuttoning my shirt. Both breasts, bare and naked, with the exception of the biting binder clamps, flashed before his eyes. I cupped them, gave him my sad little puppy dog look, and begged him to take off the clamps for me.
He lifted his hands, then paused. "I don't know. They kinda look good like that."
Bastard. So I offered him a blow job to remove them. He agreed and we went out to his car. I climbed in with him and directed him to pull over into a darkened spot and quickly got down to business. It was fast, but I did a good job and I swallowed every drop as he spurted up into my mouth. A little might have dribbled down my chin, but I licked and sucked and even cleaned him up pretty good before presenting my tits to him. I admit I screamed out loud when he took the clamps out. It hurt. The blood rushed back into my crushed nipples and I just knelt there on the passenger seat shuddering. It was agony. When I had recovered, he asked to take me home, but I told him I had some other things to do, gave him my card (he he) and buttoned up my shirt. Then I went back into the gas station.
This post is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM blog but can be read in Breanne Erickson's amazing e-book novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 3!" from Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com! Check it out today and find out just what happened.
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