Monday, February 14, 2011

Daily Assignment 02/12/11 A Hot Latte

I know.You want to know what happened on Saturday, don’t you? Everyone does.I’ve been getting emails about it in fact.Even got chastised a little for leaking little bits of it on my twitter account. But what you’re about to read isn’t what happened on Saturday. I’m only now getting over it and I’ll probably start writing that up on Monday. So why didn’t I write it up starting Sunday? Well, I still had to tell you about what happened on Friday.

Friday was a tough day for me. Things got emotional. I was feeling… nervous about Saturday. Seriously, wouldn’t you be too? I mean how often is it that you put your naked body in the hands of practical strangers, who have orders to apply “strict obedience training” to you, and then plan on actually making you fuck not one, but five different dogs? Wouldn’t you be a little out of sorts?

And then there was the Valentine’s Day conversation, which I see Michael has already posted on the blog. I was a tad bit moody when talking to Master Barrett and that came out in the rushing mixture of anger, sadness, some self-condemnation, and the revelation that I’m a shitty lock. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you need to stay abreast of things and read the damn blog. So there!)

In any event, I ended up signing off from the messenger in a fit, actually leaving more than one friend dangling. I’ve already apologized, but I didn’t get back on till Sunday. By then I had recovered. Mistress Ellen’s Doghouse assignment was finished. I survived the extreme humiliation inflicted upon me, and may even have a new friend next time. I mean, next time I’m at Mistress Ellen’s. Maybe. I don’t know. And no… she didn’t adopt a dog.

So what happened Friday? Just read.

I sat for about fifteen minutes in the parking lot. It wasn’t because I didn’t have anything to do. It was because of what I HAD to do. My stomach was doing the normal flip flopping that preceded every time I was about to do something so insane. I had left over an hour ago, which was way more time than I really needed, but I had spent a few minutes changing out of my usual blue jeans, tee shirt, and duster and put on the denim flared skirt and white cotton blouse. The skirt was relatively short. In fact, I could feel the vinyl of my seat on my bare bottom UNDER the skirt. I wasn’t wearing any panties either, something that was necessary for this assignment.

My blouse, which would normally have qualified as elegant or even professional based upon its cut, slid down into the “slutty” category due to the face that the material was so thin that had I been wearing a bra it would have been perfectly visible. As it was now my nipples were blurrily clear through the thin cotton and the sharp points of my nubs pressed against the cloth.

The last part of my outfit did even more to make me look like the slut I am: a pair of platform heels with crystal four inch soles and a rather high four inch heel (that was actually eight). They pushed me almost to six feet, which made me a little dizzy from the height. It was also tough to drive in them so I slipped my feet out of my flip flops and shoved them into the stripper shoes.

And I sat there.

I had to do it of course. It was an assignment that I agreed to. No way out of it. I had done my best to pick a slow time, and I could see that the dining area was practically empty. Finally I took a deep breath, grabbed my purse, and got out of the car. I hurried across the parking lot. It was sunny, but still pretty cool and I wished I had been able to wrap my duster around me. As it was, I almost tripped in the shoes, ending the assignment before it had even begun, but I recovered, one hand on the door frame.

I stepped into the coffee shop, warmth and delicious smells surrounding me. I love these places. Come in, get a warm drink, sit in your chair and read a book or a magazine and just… relax. Well I wasn’t exactly here to relax. Slowly I stepped up to the counter. The barista looked at me, her eyes taking in my outfit in about five seconds and classifying me as slut almost as instantly. She was polite though as I bit my lip and ordered.

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 and! 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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