Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Day 5: Seven Days of Sluttiness

Well. I see that everyone has voted. I guess I’m doing four anniversary assignments. I guess in the end, I’ll probably have to do them all, especially if Michael makes me hold to the new poll. My biggest issue is deciding which one to do first. I have some ideas about that, mostly based upon what I’ve been doing lately. I’m only going to get one day of rest between the end of the Seven Days of Sluttiness and the first assignment, so I need to be sure I can actually handle whatever it is I decide to do. Thank you to everyone who voted.


So what was yesterday? Day 5.


Day 5: On the Fifth Day of Sluttiness the NHPS was ordered to:
• Endure fifty swats on your pussy with your leather sap. (This can be spread out across the day with multiple strangers)
• Suck four cocks
• Receive three dozen bare bottom spanks, outside, while bare breasted wearing weighted binder clamps on both nipples. ( But since I fucked up, I really needed 108)
• Get double penetrated (ass and pussy)
• Get fisted and orgasm while doing it.
• While wearing your black latex top, your black Skort, and black thigh high stockings. You will wear your vibroballs.


I’m still sore; sore in more places than I can really describe. I’m sitting on a pillow too, mostly because my ass is still tender and even red. Of course I’ve also got my RVP (Rotating Venus Penis) strapped to my crotch, and even though it’s only on its lowest setting, my pussy is pulsing around it and what I really want is more sex. Plus I’ve already had one unauthorized orgasm this morning so the anal beads are in too. Weird huh?


Yesterday was Day 5 of the Seven Days of Sluttiness, and I think it reflected much more fully what it means to be a nympho humiliation pain slut. There’s just something… meaningful I guess, to it, when you’re lying on your back with your legs tied open, while someone his hitting your pussy with a leather sap.


Despite Monday’s fluke of getting everything done practically at one spot, I knew I was beginning to get into the “Danger Zone”. It is one thing for me to go out giving blowjobs, or carefully selecting two guys (or more) to double penetrate me, but in reality asking strangers to hit me isn’t something to be done lightly. So around 2 o’clock in the afternoon I called Mistress Sara and asked her if she could help me. I wasn’t planning on violating any of the stringent requirements of Master Barrett’s assignment, but if nothing else I needed someone along with me who would make sure that my evening was fun filled and not filled with something I didn’t want. I needed to be safe.


Okay, and maybe I also needed a babysitter to make sure I didn’t do any really stupid bad things either. Give me a break, okay?


We chatted for about twenty minutes while I packed my bag. Pretty much the same stuff went into it: my outfit for the day, my binder clips, the ½ pound weights, the alligator clamp, my four inch white platform fuck me shoes, and a new box of condoms I had picked up yesterday on my way home.


Yes, in the short shorts and the Sex Goddess tee shirt. And yes, you should have seen the looks I got. Especially since I bought the “economy size” box!


Anyway, with my bag packed I finished plotting and planning with Mistress Sara and then headed out the door. Now you need to understand that it was cold, which is really strange for south Texas. I’m used to balmy Januaries where the temperature is around fifty five to sixty degrees. This forty degree crap is for the birds. It also puts a little bit of a kink in the concept of dressing like a nympho humiliation pain slut, because nothing shuts down sexual drive than having the tips of your breasts get frostbitten. In short, when I left the house I was in work boots, tube socks, heavy blue jeans, a heavy flannel button down shirt, and my duster. Of course I wasn’t wearing panties or bra, since Master Barrett had forbidden me those items for the course of the entire week. I hadn’t minded, much, though I admit I had soaked several outfits in the course of my activities.


I was also wearing my vibroballs, complete with remote jammed in a pocket. Since I had spent the morning writing, it hadn’t been on any higher than low, except during my normal chores. These had been completed with the vibroballs on high, and as expected I had accidentally cum while feeding the goats. This meant that by the time I headed out, I was also stuffed with my vibrating anal beads. The beads had also been on low so I was charged and ready to go, but not quite that close to cumming again.


When I climbed into the truck I was able to turn both vibrators off, which afforded me a little bit of peace, especially while driving. I put the truck in gear and took off. My first stop was of course the same place I’ve been changing over the last week. There is a farm to market road behind our property that is rarely travelled. Usually, when the weather is nice, I follow Mistress Ellen’s procedure for stripping, which means going to the front of the truck, stripping completely naked while folding each article of clothing nicely, and then slowly getting dressed. The idea of course is to provide eye candy for anyone driving along the road. I’ve done this on other roads of course, including I-10, and that almost caused an accident. Better a rarely traveled concourse, believe you me!


But since the temperature was hovering around forty three degrees, I stayed in the cab to do my switch out. I’ve changed in cars before. I used to do it every morning after Kari picked me up for school. I’d leave the house in jeans and a tee shirt, waving bye to my mom, and then get in Kari’s GT. Almost always there would be a different outfit waiting for me, usually a really short mini-skirt, a blouse that wasn’t quite transparent but close, or even something that covered me completely, but was so tight that you could see the bumps of my nipples. Kari wouldn’t allow me a bra or panties unless it was my time of the month. But even then I had to wear slut clothes.


If you’ve read Michael Alexander’s “Angie’s Humiliation”, you probably already know how I got my skort. He used me for inspiration. What’s a skort? Well, a skort is actually a trick. First, you get what looks like a really super short mini skirt, then underneath you attach a pair of shorts that are exactly the same color. Cheerleaders wear a sort of skort. That way they can look sexy, but it’s not exactly a problem to do a back flip and show the audience what’s underneath it. In my case, the skort wasn’t so much to allow cartwheels though. It was very narrow, riding just under my hips. It barely covered my ass, and when I mean barely, I mean that if I squatted or bent down about an inch or two of my actual rear end would be visible. Or it would have been, had my ass and pussy not been completely covered by the “shorts” part of the skort. It was a tease.


Well… it HAD been. Until Kari took a pair of scissors and cut out the shorts part.


I had been 17 when I had received the skorts, which I guess I should really call a skirt now, since it was lacking the concealing shorts part. I held it up after taking it out of my bag, my fingers tracing the still ragged edge where Kari had sheared out the thin material. I remember when she had made me walk the mall that day, stuffed with ben wa balls, on three inch heels, wearing the skort and a reversed chevron shirt. Talk about pre NHPS days. I was cumming in about ten minutes!



Yes, just like these except just a tad bit shorter and black.



The rest of 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.


"Great erotica. Breanne is this down to earth girl with a sense of humor and this incredible way of describing things. It's really amazing. Loved it." - Amazon Reviewer

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