Punishment: I'm Cumming!

I’m Cumming

I sat down across from him, not allowed to touch or taste him. We were separated by miles and miles, yet so close. I was barefoot, in jeans and panties, stuffed with my ben wa balls, wearing an old gray tee shirt and bra.

"Put a peg on your clit," he commanded. I swallowed, nodding, knowing it was only going to get worse from this point.

"Just a second. I've got to take off my jeans." I stood up, unbuttoning my denim pants and sliding them and my pink bikini panties down to my knees. My shaved slit was already wet from the ben wa balls, not to mention anticipation.

"Okay. Jeans and panties down to my knees... putting the clothespin on now sir" I said. I lifted the little wooden clamp and pinched it open. My clit was already protruding, a wet little lump of nerves that screamed for attention. It closed upon my flesh and I stifled the little scream that went with it.

"Keep it on all day."

"Uh... can I switch to a skirt then?" I asked, fingering the wooden clothespin.

He looked at my quizzically. "Why do you want to wear a skirt?"
"Because then the clothespin will dangle down without any pressure. If I wear panties and jeans, then the jeans tug painfully on the clothespin when I move around.

His laugh was very pure. "Sounds like you should wear the jeans then."

"Um... Yes sir," I replied. My clit throbbed, crushed between the wooden jaws of the peg.

"Better give the clothespin a twist to make sure it's on okay."

I frowned. "It's on okay, believe me sir." I said a bit grumpily, not wanting to send the shooting pains up through my loins.

His tone was stern. "That wasn't a request."

I swallowed my pride. "Yes, sir. A full twist or a half twist." Yes, trust me that matters.

"Two full ones, one each direction."

"Yes sir." I reached down between my legs and grasped the clothespin. Slowly I began to turn it clockwise, pain and pleasure shooting up from between my legs and rushing through me like a freight train in a tunnel. My clit felt like it was being ripped off my body, especially when I released it and then went the other direction, twisting it around like a messed up dial on a radio.

Panting, the pulse and wetness between my legs now much worse, I looked up at him. "Yes, the clothespin is on properly sir."

"Good."

"Should I pull up my jeans now?" I asked.

He grinned, the thought of my panties and jeans pressing the clothespin into an awkward position, hurting me even more appealing. "Yes, go ahead."

He waited a few moments while I struggled into my clothes, wincing at the shifting of the clothespin. "Painful?" he asked.

I nodded, biting my lip. My clitoris really didn't like how the clothespin was jammed and pulled downward and I could feel the rough edge of the clamp against the folds of my sex.

"Speaking of pain, I've still not entirely forgiven you for last Saturday, so I think I should hurt you."

I gulped. "Right now, sir?"

"Yes. Get the rubber bands for your feet."

I flinched. "Oh God..."

He glared at me as I rummaged through the drawer. I pulled them out and held them up. "I've got them here sir!" I called out.

"Well? Put them on and begin."



I blinked. "How many snaps sir?"

His head cocked to one side. "Till I get bored of hurting you."

The thought of my arches stinging like that was too much. Tears came to my eyes. "Sir? Please... can you hurt me some other way? Please? I'll sit in my chair with the Husky Dildo up my ass, or on the tack mat, or put ice in my pussy.. something?" I took a breath. Or I could sit with my legs spread to the sides of the chair on my triangular prism."

He crossed his arms and gave me that look every submissive dreads to see. "Why would I offer you such kindness?

I hesitated, trying to come up with a good answer. "Uh... because it's more sexual and will hurt more?"

"And what makes you think I would WANT to give you sexual pleasure?"

That hurt. It really did. I backtracked instead. "It wouldn't BE sexual pleasure sir. It would just hurt."

"Fine. We'll do both then. Sit on your prism while you give yourself snaps.

I realized I had lost this one and only made it worse. I struggled to find a way to mitigate what was happening. "Jeans up or down sir." It was a trick question. If the jeans had stayed up they would have padded my pussy from the painful edge of the mini "wooden pony". But either he knew that or got lucky. Knowing him, he knew it.

"Do you want me to keep my panties on then?" I hoped he'd have me remove those too. They were holding the clothespin still attached to my pussy at an awkwardly painful angle.

"Why?" he asked.

To lie or tell the truth? "If I keep my panties up, then the clothespin on my clit has to stay pressed down, tugging on it. And the panties won't really provide any protection considering what I'm about to sit on."

My heart thumped as he considered his options. "Panties stay on," he said.

I nodded. "Yes sir. Give me just a second. I've got to take the jeans off and get the prism."

He waved a hand. "Go ahead." He watched me stand and move to the closet. I got out my toybox and quickly removed the mini wooden horse. It was eight inches long and four inches high with a rather sharp point, much sharper than the full sized one I had ridden just a few weeks earlier at Kari's place. I took it back to my chair and sat down. Pain blossomed between my legs as the sharp edge dug up into my pussy and ass. Slowly, I lifted on foot and brought it up to my lap. I slipped the rubber band around the arch. The movement made the prism dig deeper into my crotch and I groaned.

"Oh damn..." I said aloud. His eyebrow went up. I gave him a rueful smile. "Swinging your leg up to snap the bands makes sitting on the prism hurt more," I told him.

He grinned. "I know.

I reached down to my left foot, grabbed hold of the rubber band, and pulled it out three inches. I let it go with a snap and it struck my arch with a sharp sting. It hurt, but only barely. That's why the rubber band snaps are so diabolical. I lowered my leg and lifted the right one up. I gave my other arch similar treatment, sending the small thin elastic against the tenderest point of my foot. Then I put my right leg down and went back to the left, snapping the rubber band. I called out the number and side with each snap.

"Left one, right one, left two, right two, left three, right three, left four, right four." At the fourth snap I was starting to feel the sting, and it wasn't the mild slice the first snap had been. Already my arches were turning pink, a thin line running from one side to the other. I began hissing as the snaps hurt more and more. By the time I had gotten to eleven my feet were hurting as much as my pussy was. Not only that, but I was moving slower. Each strike of the rubber band against my sole took several seconds to recover from, not to mention the movement of my leg from one to the other. I began to shake silently, my brain dipped in liquid "ouch".

"Slowing down, slut?" he asked softly.

I glanced up. "Sorry sir, but switching legs each time, plus the stinging and everything... its just... well... I'm having to grit my teeth and hold it all in." I reached down and snapped the rubber band on my left foot again. "Twelve" I hissed.

Several snaps later he grinned. "Sounds like adding the prism was a good idea. Thank you."

I didn't respond to that. I just kept snapping the rubber bands.

"In fact, I think you should always do your snaps like this from now on!" he said with a laugh.

I pulled the rubber band on my left foot back and let it fall for the fourteenth time. Pain laced up through my sole and up my leg till it got to my pussy and increased exponentially. I clenched my teeth as I rocked from the assault. "Not sure which hurts more... my pussy or my feet!" I declared.

"Good."

Fourteen right, fifteen left, and so on.

"Too slow. The slower you go the more you will have to do," he told me, pointing at my burning feet.

I choked back a sob. "I'm sorry! It's so hard!" I shuddered. "Can't I just give myself five on each foot and then switch legs?" The mini-wooden horse between my legs was REALLY hurting.

"No." It came out rather dark too and his expression was cold.

Seventeen left, seventeen right, eighteen left, eighteen right. I felt something odd. It was a build up of pressure. Of pain turning into something more tangible, more desirable, more desperate and wanton. My eyes widened as I realized I was close to cumming. "Sir!" I moaned. "Oh God... Sir please... I need..." Another wave hit me and I realized that I sliding fast toward the cliff edge of orgasm. I wasn't going to be able to stop. I snapped a rubber band again.

Then it hit me. What the fuck? Why was I CUMMING from being hurt? What the hell is wrong with me? How could my body DO this? "T-t-this isn't right!" I suddenly announced, eyes wide in alarm. My body trembled as I was kicked another few meters toward climax. "Sir, can I cum? Please?"

Another cold "no" was my answer.

I snapped the rubber band again, feeling the spark of pain leap to my clit and then to my heart. "Sir... I d-d-don't think I can keep from cumming... please!" I begged.

He took a deep breath. "How close are you?"

It took a moment to convert my current level of desperation into the new NHPS scale. "9.8" I gasped. It was fairly accurate. I was ready to cum. "Close." I said again a moment later. I reached down to my foot.

"Stop snapping," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

I looked up. "What? No! Please!" I begged him.

"NO."

I almost cried. "Please! Please hurt me!"

He eyed me coldly. "Beg."

I was shaking. I put both my feet to the ground and spread my legs, rocking on the triangular prism between my legs sending waves of pain and pleasure up through me. "PLEASE HURT ME SIR I WANT TO HURT! SO CLOSE!" I felt a sudden rush as my body flooded my bloodstream with endorphins and adrenaline. I saw spots. What came out of my mouth was practically gibberish. "Fucking prism need to cum" was all I said.

I couldn't stop. My fingers scrabbled metaphorically at the edge of the cliff and then I was falling, exploding in orgasmic delight that defies description. It was several minutes before I was even able to speak coherently. I sighed in satisfaction.

"Finished?" he asked.

I looked up at him, nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Carry on snapping, then."

I quivered a bit, but pulled my left leg up, reaching for the rubber band. "That was just wrong," I said to myself. "Why did I cum like that?"

His eyebrow went up and he seemed amused. "How was it wrong?"

"I shouldn't have cum like that." I pulled out the rubber band and let it snap sharply against my left foot.

The roll of his eyes made his feelings clear. "You are a pain slut and you need and deserve to be hurt."

I accepted this. I've always accepted this. I snapped again. And again. Twenty left and right, all the way to twenty five. My crotch was burning, deeply aching and the pain was like someone hammering nails into my pubis. My arches were just as bad.

"Please sir... my feet really hurt now and I need to get off the prism!" I gasped.

He eyed me critically. "Want to cum again?"

My eyes widened in alarm. How could he ask that? "No!" I said quickly. "I want to get off."

He pointed at the rubber band and I almost burst into a fresh bout of tears. I struggled but then reached down.

"Twenty five right," I gasped. He smiled, nodding his approval. I did the other foot. "Twenty six, left."

He took a deep breath. "No. I like that you are hurting," he said.

My eyes burned with tears. "Twenty six, left... uh I mean right!" I stammered. He said nothing. I moved to the other foot. Agony laced upward and I gasped out "twenty seven, left."

"You can stop at thirty," he told me.

I blinked. Thirty? Only six snaps to go? Oh God yes! "Thank you sir!" I offered, trying to stay strong.

I did them as quickly as I could. Fire laced up through me. It was like hot lances being drawn across your skin. It was a blaze of agony spreading from my sensitive skin. It hurt so bad. At twenty eight he encouraged me.

"Hurry up, or you won't be stopping at thirty."

I practically rushed at that point. Snap, snap, snap! I did the last one and yelled out "THIRTY, RIGHT!" and slowly put my foot to the ground. I was pretty sure walking was going to be an issue. "My arches are all red now." It was a statement of fact.

"So?" he asked.

I looked up at him again. "Sir? Can I please get off the prism now?" It was still digging up into my pussy and I could feel my cotton panties literally INSIDE my pussy as the sharp edge of the mini-wooden horse drove my panties inward.

He shook his head. "No. Does your pussy hurt?"

I nodded rapidly. "Yes sir. And my perineum. It's like a deep ache."

His mouth was a thin line. "You can get off when you cum again."

My heart thumped painfully. "How do you want me to cum sir?" I asked in a whisper, scared of the answer.

"Grind your clit into the prism." He pointed at the mini wooden horse between my legs.

I said what any good nympho humiliation pain slut would say. "Yes sir." I spread my legs wide to the sides of my chair. My jeans were now on the floor. The clothespin on my clit was still biting me and the panties had become a sodden mess. I leaned forward so that most of my weight was centered on my clitoris and then I began jacking my hips back and forth. The clothespin kept me from getting a good pinch between the mini-wooden horse and my nub so I said something to him. "I don't think I'll be able to cum from this. The clothespin is in the way."

He chuckled and leaned forward. "You can take off the peg for now."

I nodded. "Yes sir."

I pulled my panties outward and reached into to remove the clothespin. A surge of discomfort went through me as the blood seeped back into tenderized and damaged flesh. "Geeze, taking those off hurts so damn much!" I announced. The clothespin clattered on the table. Then I went back to rocking, moving myself back and forth until I began to feel the pressure of sexual urgency.

"The more you hurt yourself, the better you will cum," he said. He eyed my breasts, still covered with the gray tee shirt and bra. "Yank on your nipples."

I lifted my hands to my shirt, tearing it off over my head. I tossed it aside and in seconds I was bare breasted. My fingers latched onto my nubs and I tugged and pulled. The pressure increased and I could feel myself reaching a state of utter abandon. I NEEDED THIS.

"Sir?" I gasped out loud. "Can I put clothespins on my nipples please?"

He nodded. "Go ahead."

I picked one up of the table and quickly placed it on the pointed tip of my left breast. Another clothespin quickly followed and shortly they stuck straight out from my chest like obscene pasties. A fit of giggles hit me despite the pain and sexual need. "I'm a clothesline!" I said stupidly, shaking my tits back and forth. My hips rocked again and I ground myself against the sharp edge, literally fucking it, humping it, working myself into epiphany.

"Ooohhh yes," I groaned. "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!"

I let out a loud squeal and he sat up straight, watching.

"Harder, Breanne, harder!"

I let my entire body weight press down upon the prism, crushing my clit, practically cutting it in half. My hands went to my breasts, squeezing them and wiggling wildly the two clothespins attached to my nipples . "Oh I'm cumming!" I said out loud, more to myself than anyone else. The second orgasm blew through me like a gale, spinning me around and tearing me to shreds. If it didn't hurt it felt fantastic. And where it did hurt it felt... incredible. So sensitive, so tender, so desperate. I almost passed out.

"Did you squirt?" he asked.

I looked down between my legs to the sodden panties now partially embedded in my pussy. I hadn't squirted but I came, soaking the prism and chair. "My panties are soaked sir. Can I please get up off the prism now sir? It's starting to hurt really bad."

He grinned. "I'm glad your panties are wet. Sure, get up and clean yourself."

I stood. A moment later I was back, my clit still suffering the bobbing dangling clothespin. I stood before him. I was wearing only my panties and they were soaked, the outline of the peg clear through the semi-transparent cloth.

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You did good. Though you did cum without permission the first time."

I stiffened.

He nodded. "I will decided what to do about you cumming without permission."

I stood there, heart hammering.

"Get your largest anal plug."

It took a moment, especially with my clit still aching. I retrieved my plug.

"How would you like this lubed sir? Pussy juice, grapeseed oil?" I asked. I deliberately left out the option of Stinging O.

"I think Stinging O would be the best," he replied.

Trembling I took the bottle of cream and poured a generous amount onto the large four inch wide plug. I rubbed the lotion onto the thick rubber and then smeared the remainder across my breasts. Then I took the plug to my seat and pulled down my panties. The clothespin on my clit popped upward and stuck straight out like a little cock. I shuddered and held on through it.

"Well, put it in," he commanded. I sat down, my ass puckering at the feel of something cold and tingly pressing up against it. I forced myself to relax, lowering myself until first one inch, then two, then even three were embedded in my ass. It took everything I had to seat it, forcing the full four inches into my ass. I hated it. It ached.

"Now make yourself cum," he said as soon as I was done rocking my hips, trying to settle. "Rub your clit until you cum. Hard and fast."

"Sir? The clothespin?"

"Take it off for right now."

I reached down. The flush of pain as I removed the wooden peg from my clit flooded through me, but my fingers began playing with my clit.

"Your punishment for cumming without permission, is to cum as much as you can today. I want your clit raw and red. Do you understand?"

I nodded, the sensations flooding up through my loins. Cumming? All day?

"You will cum at least once an hour. More if possible. Now rub faster!" His voice was intense and I could feel the pressure on me like a weight.

My fingers tugged frantically at my clit, pressing against it, scouring my nub until I was starting to buckle. My body folded and I had to slump in my seat, spreading myself obscenely wide as he urged me on.

"Faster! Rub HARDER! NOW! RUB!"

My clit hurt but that didn't stop me from popping. It was a clitoral orgasm, not vaginal and I felt as if I had been sand blasted into climax. Pain radiated up from my abused loins, but that didn't stop him from pointing to the clothespin.

"That needs to go back on your clit. I said all day."

I reached over, hands still shaking. I picked up the clothespin. My ass clenched in expectation of the agony as I positioned the peg over my clit. It was already deep pink, over sensitive, and chaffed. When the clothespin bit down I put my fist to my mouth, stifling the scream. I shook like a tree in a hurricane, powers beyond my control rattling me. Hot white fire exploded up from between my legs, burning me until they smoldered into hot coals. I slumped even more into the chair.

Ten minutes later he spoke. "Rub your clit until you cum."




I started in surprise. What? Seriously? I couldn't! My body couldn't take that sort of abuse! I glared at him. "I can't! There's a clothespin on it."

He shrugged. "Take the peg off until you cum again."

Resistance flooded through me. I opened my mouth to protest and then realized I was playing right into his hands. Instead I glared at him, reached down between my legs, and removed the clothespin. Another flash of pain almost floored me but then I was slowly and as gently rubbing myself as was possible.

"This is so hard..." I said, more to myself than him. But he replied anyway. "Good. I like it when things are hard for you."

"My clit's sore."

"Good. Hope it is agony to cum by the end of the day tomorrow."

It took five or six minutes, maybe longer, but I began to feel it again. I rubbed more enthusiastically, but then he was there, whispering. "You're getting close, rub harder! Make it hurt!"

I made a nasty face and snarled "if you want it to hurt make me whip it with a ruler!"

"Go ahead. But I want you to REALLY hurt yourself. Hit as hard as you can."

The ruler was right there on the table and I picked it up. Me and my big mouth. I spread my legs even farther. I felt the anal plug driving up into my butt. Then I brought the flat edged side of the ruler come down on my pussy, smashign the petals and the clit flat, crushing my sexual stability in one fell swoop.

I smacked my pussy until I came again. It wasn't that long either. I was ready. Forty strokes later my clit was a darker shade of red and the surrounding flesh was bright pink, showing tinges of blue. When the orgasm rocked me, I sawed the edge of the ruler against my clit. Wanton abandon, that was me! Colors flashed across my eyes and I felt as if I were flying to pieces. I shuddered and dropped the ruler, my crotch sore and painful to the touch.

"How did that feel?" he asked.

I tried to control my quivering, eyes still glazed. My thighs were now pressed together and I concentrated on staying conscious. He left me alone for a little bit, at least until I started moving. When I had straightened in my seat, he looked at me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked.

I blinked, confused. "Forgetting something?" I asked stupidly.

"What's supposed to be on your clit?" he replied, his question tone making it clear he expected only one answer.

"The clothespin," I whispered.

"That's right. So why isn't it on your clit then?"

A torrent of emotions rushed through my brain, and he could see it. He could see my hesitation, my thoughts, my very unwillingness.

"What are you?"

"I'm a nympho humiliation pain slut," I replied automatically.

"And that means?"

"I should be punished and hurt and embarrassed, and fucked."

He nodded. "That means you need to put that clothespin on your clit right now."

I let out a pretty decent scream when it closed on my clit. I was shaking hard, totally unable to handle the pain streaming from my clit.

"Now, you are going to have to masturbate again shortly. Remember, you have to cum lots today. I want your clit sore and red and raw. Understand? That means an orgasm an hour, preferably a clitoral one. You're a pain slut and I expect each orgasm to hurt like hell. Also, you will leave the butt plug in until you cum at least ten more times today.

I nodded, my entire body tense. The clothespin hurt, but cumming every hour? "Sir? Can I make a request?"

He shrugged. "You can ask."

"Sir... can I please replace the clothespin with the butterfly? It will make cumming, especially clitoral orgasms, come easier and more often sir." The plea came out in a rush. An insane rush. The butterfly clitoral stimulator would hurt me WAY more than a clothespin.

He didn't look convinced.

"I'll keep it on low all day unless I'm horny and then I'll turn it up to maximum.

He sighed and nodded. "Okay, but I want you to cum at least once an hour for the rest of the day."

I nodded emphatically, hands going down to my clothespinned clit. "I'll do my best sir."

"I didn't say do your best. I said cum at least once an hour!" he snapped.

I paused. "Can I use any toy I want then sir?"

He shook his head. "No. You will turn the Butterfly up to high."

The thought of that that scared me.

"I want your clit raw by the end of the day."

"Yes sir. I'll make it very raw."

He smiled. "Good. I do like playing with my fuck doll. Now thank me."

My response was wooden, but only because I was in the process of getting my butterfly clitoral stimulator out of my toybox. "Thank you for hurting me and making me cum sir," I replied.

"You are welcome. Does your pussy still hurt?" he asked.

"Oh God yes sir."

"Maybe I'll have you spread the Stinging O all over that prism next time you ride it.

What could I say to that? I hung my head, holding the purple plastic butterfly vibrator that in seconds would be strapped to my swollen and sore clit. "Thank you sir."

I spent the next few minutes taking off the clothespin, checking for damage, and then strapping on the butterfly. Once it was in position, I switched it on, setting it to the lowest setting. It didn't matter. It felt like someone was rubbing my clit with sandpaper. I grit my teeth and sat back down, legs spread.

"Sir? It's on. And on low."

He didn't even look up at me. "Turn it up to high until you cum."

"SIR! I can't! It just doesn't work like that sir! I can't so soon..."

"That's not my problem," he replied. "High. Now."

I let out a wail as the vibrations went from low to high. "Oh God this hurts!"

He let out a scoffing laugh. "Cum quicker then."

He watched as I suffered. The vibrations were so intense, so painful, and so delicious. I hurt and I wanted and I needed and I felt and I pressed and I pushed and I demanded and then I came. I pulled the clitoral vibrator away, and turned it to low, still holding it away from my pussy.

He stood up. "Well done. I hope you aren't this slow all day. I have to go now. Remember, you have to cum at least once an hour, so at least ten more before the end of the day. I'll expect your clit to be so tender that even touching it tomorrow will make you scream."

I collapsed in a heap, unable to do more than nod. Yes master. Yes sir. I'll cum more. Thank you for making me cum. Thank you for hurting me.

Oh God, my clit!

I'm cumming!