Assignment 043011: Blowjob Friday!

Last Assignment:

Breanne - I know it's your TOTM, but that shouldn't stop you from doing assignments. Today is Blowjob Friday, and it's time to get back to your earlier roots. Today you will insert your vibrating anal beads and you will wear your butterfly clitoral stimulator OVER your panties, but under your shorts or skirt. You will wear a tight "sexy" tee shirt. You will turn the vibrating anal beads to maximum. You will set the clitoral stimulator to low. You will also bring your Stinging O and your alligator nipple clamps. You will go and find three men, all strangers, and offer them blow jobs. You are not allowed to cum until you have sucked off all three guys. After sucking the first man, you will turn your vibrating anal beads and your clitoral vibrator to medium. After sucking off the second man, you will turn your vibrating anal beads to low and your clitoral vibrator to high. You will then suck off your third man. After he cums you will turn the anal beads off and cum. However, if you have an unauthorized orgasm during your first two blowjobs, after completing the service, you will ask your paramour to apply both the Stinging O to your nipples as well as the alligator nipple clamps and you will wear them through the remainder of your assignment. Should, on the off chance, you have TWO unauthorized orgasms, after completing the assignment and climaxing, you will turn the anal beads back to maximum and apply Stinging O to your clit. You will then find a FOURTH man to suck to completion while you remain clamped, stung, and vibrated. You may have a SECOND final orgasm. Brandon

Usually, when it’s my TOTM (Time of the Month) the general rule is that I’m off. This gives me a break, allows me to catch up on my writing (if needed) and generally allows me to be miserable all by myself. I’m unusually moody during my TOTM and on day four I start cramping pretty bad too. Not good, right?

So why did I accept this one? Because I DIDN’T CUM the day before my TOTM started, so it had been THREE DAYS since I came. That makes a difference. And while during my TOTM I usually abstain from sexual activities, it really doesn’t make me LESS horny.

So Friday afternoon after I had rigged the irrigation sprinklers in the southwest field, I packed what I needed and hopped into my truck. As usual, I stopped just down the road from my farm’s gravel drive and moved to the grill in order to get “prepped”. Prepping wasn’t as …um… revealing as usual though, since all I needed to really do was remove my shirt and bra and put on one of the tee shirts that Kari bought me in college. Friday I wore my “Catholic School Girl Gone Bad” shirt, an overly tight pink shirt that was getting a little thread bare. In fact, all my tee shirts from those days are too tight and a little threadbare. Guess I need new “bad girl” tee shirts, right?

I slipped off my flip flops and then shucked out of my shorts. I had put in the vibrating anal beads before leaving the house, mostly because getting them fully implanted is best done on your back (unless you have help of course) and takes about three or four minutes. Not a good thing to be trying while standing in front of your car. So with my remote in hand, I then grabbed my Butterfly Clitoral Stimulator out of my bag and strapped it on over my white cotton panties.

Why over? Duh. Please tell me I don’t need to explain this.

Next I pulled on my little school girl skirt. It’s red and black plaid and frankly, more than a little too short. With practically no effort I can let anyone behind me see my panties. All it takes is the slightest bend. It’s flared too, so if I twirl, or walk up stairs, it’s loose enough to move on its own. Talk about a cock tease…

I tucked the anal beads remote into the waist band while I stuffed my folded clothing into the bag next to the alligator clamps and the Stinging O, then slipped my flip flops back on. Moments later I was driving away. I decided to head east on I-10 and stop at one of the adult novelty shops that masquerade as “News Stands,” thanks to Houston’s idiotic laws preventing the sale of adult material. It just doesn’t make sense. Tax it and make it legal! That’s all you have to do! We will STILL BUY IT! Put a sin tax on it and voila… budget shortfall gone.

But hey, we’re not here to discuss politics or taxation policies, are we?

I went to the nearest one, which is sort of seedy, but I figured Friday afternoon would net me what I needed and when I pulled up to the front door, I knew I’d have my three cocks sucked quickly. There were plenty of cars. I turned on the anal beads to full and steadied myself for a moment. Then I padded into the shop, my flip flops flapping against the soles of my feet and my breasts straining against the fabric of my shirt. The words “Catholic School Girl Gone Bad” were distorted thanks to my nipples poking up like hard pebbles under the material. When I asked for a cup of tokens and handed the money over, the girl at the counter gave me a disgusted look, even as she handed me the clinking and essentially worthless bits of metal. I thanked her anyway, and walked through the stands to the arcade, my ass vibrating like a California freeway.

There were a couple of guys who noticed my entrance and I played it up for all it was worth. Arcades like this are frequented by gay guys, and while I have no problem with gay guys, they were unlikely to come to me looking for a blowjob. But if I had SOMEONE’S attention, I could get a groove going.

The arcade was very dark and lit with red and blue lights. To be honest, it was the kind of place that under normal circumstances, a girl would be STUPID to be walking around in unescorted, much less wearing a super short skirt and a tee shirt with no bra, which practically screamed “do me!” Of course, since my goal was exactly to get “done”, I was in the right place. I walked down the hall, past a few half opened doors until I bumped into the first guy. His eyes widened and I smiled, stepping up close.

“Care for blowjob sweetie? It’s free,” I said softly.

He nodded and I dropped the cup of tokens and pulled him into the nearest room. He shut the door and I immediately got down on my knees as he sat on the small wooden bench. There was a television behind me, with some sort of porno playing, but I gave him my own little show as I peeled my shirt up, exposing my breasts, and then worked to get his cock out and wet.

I’m a pretty good cock sucker. Hmmm… maybe I need a resume? Wouldn’t that be a hoot! LOL… I’ll write one up for the website’s Character Corner! LOL. Anyway, I’m very very good at sucking cock. There are a few tricks that I use. First of all, don’t just unzip a guy’s pants. If you can, pull the pants down, as well as the guys underwear or boxers or briefs or whatever. You want access to his balls. Trust me. Then the thing to do is have one hand on the shaft, one hand caressing his scrotum, and your lips and tongue circling the tip. While you do the tip, you start moving the hand on his shaft up and down gently until your fingers touch your open lips, then back down to the base. Then after he’s nice and hard and extended, you start bobbing your head in time with the movement of your hand. That way he can’t tell where your mouth starts and ends. His entire cock ends up being “sucked”. You try to get him as deep as possible and between every bob of your head you make sure to do a circle with your tongue around his glans and then really apply some suction. Another fun trick is to actually blow a little air out as you go DOWN on him to. So suck and tongue circle at the top, blow air as you go down, swallow as you hit the bottom.

See? Not so hard? Now there is one other thing I like to do when I get them to the plateau. See guys get hard and horny and then they float there for a few minutes like a boat that’s already filled with water, but still won’t sink. Right then you have to give them a push toward popping. So that’s when I use both hands on their cock. My right hand pumps rapidly up and down on the shaft while I use my left hand in a sort of twisting movement, rubbing my fingers along the edge of their cock tip. If they’ve got foreskin, you pull that back and get that super sensitive area beneath. If they’re cut, you’ve already got access to it! Then the moment they’re bucking, you go back to the suck, lick, swallow, and blow method.

Guy number one came hard, squirting lots of cream into my mouth. Quite a bit dribbled out, but that wasn’t too bad since it landed on my tits anyway and guys like it when a girl is sloppy when it comes to drinking cum. He groaned as it spooled out and I cleaned up every drop like a good girl. Finally he was finished and I gave him a loaded smile. As I helped him get buttoned back up, I asked him to tell any guys he met out in the hall that I was giving three free blowjobs, and two more were available. He grinned, agreed and opened the door.

I turned the butterfly clitoral stimulator on. The assignment called for it to be on medium, while turning my anal beads down to the same setting. Except my Butterfly only has three settings; off, low, and high. So I turned the Butterfly to low and my vibrating anal beads to medium. The Butterfly buzzed against my clit and I bit my lip as the sudden surge of sexual energy exploded through me. Then there was a polite knock and guy number two came in.

He was thin and well over fifty years old, with white hair, a large bald spot, and a wide grin. All he said was “I heard you’re giving free blowjobs.” I introduced myself, told him “yes” and then went back down to my knees, focusing on getting the new guy’s cock out. It only took a moment, despite his assistance (he kept getting in the way) and in less than a minute I had my lips wrapped around his meat.

When you haven’t had an orgasm in well over two days, especially when you are a certified nympho humiliation pain slut, having something buzz against your clit, while your ass is stuffed with another buzzing toy, while sucking on cock, isn’t exactly soothing. In fact, it’s down right stimulating. I found my hips rocking in time with my bobbing head and when I sucked I found my pussy tightening as well, even as I wriggled and jiggled my hips.



I’m sure you know what happened. It was almost karma, wasn’t it? I mean seriously, why do my doms keep assigning me these “do not cum” tasks and then seem SURPRISED when I fail spectacularly? Come on! How was I supposed to hold off with the Butterfly RIGHT ON MY CLIT! BUZZING! With a cock in my mouth and the anal beads in my ass shaking like mad! HUH? HOW? OF COURSE I CAME! Duh.

I came before he did, which sort of sucked. I pulled my head up for a moment and let go of his cock while I fumbled for my bag. I pulled out the bottle of Stinging O and the alligator clamps and handed him the bottle.

“Would you please put a little on my nipples?” I begged him.

He readily agreed and used more than a little. Moments later both of breasts were on fire, and not just the nub. Then I handed him the little metal alligator clamps, connected on the chain and he grinned as he pinched them open. I cupped my breasts, leaning back and presenting. Then there was this explosion of pain from my tits, my nipples seemingly compressed, crushed, and chewed on all at the same time. I gaped, gritting my teeth as the pain blossomed inside me, and then spiraled down to a single point of my anatomy: my clit.

I shuddered, felt my body ripen again, sexual energy exploding through me. I grabbed hold of it, harnessed it, and got cock back in my mouth. He exploded moments later, no doubt turned on by the visual image of my sexual suffering. This time I wasn’t as lucky with the spurt of wet cream and it got in my hair and across my cheek, dripping down onto my rolled up tee shirt. I did my best to lick it all up, while still cleaning my guy’s soda straw, but the tee shirt was toast. Sorta. Anyway, I pulled it off and used it to wipe up some of the extra spunk.

When guy number two left, guy number three was already waiting out in the hall. So was guy number four and five. There eyes widened when they saw the nipple clamps and chain spanning my breasts and I pulled guy number three into the little stall and closed the door.

All I can say about guy number three, is that I wish I had been fucking him instead of sucking him. His cock was huge. And thick too. It would have been much better shoved into my pussy. As it was I ended up having to only take PART of his cock in my mouth, rather than getting most like I usually do. I don’t deepthroat by the way. The only reason some guys like deepthroat is because the girl gags and her throat tightens around their cock and it’s a nice way to humiliate her. That isn’t really something I need to do because usually I’m pretty much already humiliated out the wazoo. I’m also not into gagging. I once threw up at a frat party one night my freshman year while deepthroating. Now THAT’S a funny story… but a tale for another time I guess.

Anyway, guy number three came before I did. In fact, I didn’t cum till I was bobbing up and down on guy number four. Which was well after guy number three, so I was totally in compliance with the assignment.

What? It NEVER SAID I COULDN’T WILLING SUCK MORE GUYS, did it? Nope… Besides, what was I going to say to the line? Sorry, no more?

Of course, that’s what I said after I did guy number six. Told them my mouth was hurting. There were some suggestions about using my pussy, but I told them I was going through my TOTM and oddly enough, everyone of those gentlemen (yes gentlemen!) accepted that. So after guy number six spurted across my bare breasts and I had experienced my fifth orgasm, I licked it up the sperm with a finger. Then I pulled on my cum soaked shirt, grabbed my bag, and was given a nice escort back to my truck.

Once locked in my cab, I turned off the Butterfly vibrator and the anal beads, settling down in blessed stillness. My clit ached. My jaw did too. And as I turned the key in the ignition, I realized that maybe BlowJob Friday should happen EVERY time I go through my TOTM.

What do you think?

No Rest For the Weary

Evidently I'm not allowed a break now.

I got this in my email box this morning:

Breanne - I know it's your TOTM, but that shouldn't stop you from doing assignments. Today is Blowjob Friday, and it's time to get back to your earlier roots. Today you will insert your vibrating anal beads and you will wear your butterfly clitoral stimulator OVER your panties, but under your shorts or skirt. You will wear a tight "sexy" tee shirt. You will turn the vibrating anal beads to maximum. You will set the clitoral stimulator to low. You will also bring your Stinging O and your alligator nipple clamps. You will go and find three men, all strangers, and offer them blow jobs. You are not allowed to cum until you have sucked off all three guys. After sucking the first man, you will turn your vibrating anal beads and your clitoral vibrator to medium. After sucking off the second man, you will turn your vibrating anal beads to low and your clitoral vibrator to high. You will then suck off your third man. After he cums you will turn the anal beads off and cum. However, if you have an unauthorized orgasm during your first two blowjobs, after completing the service, you will ask your paramour to apply both the Stinging O to your nipples as well as the alligator nipple clamps and you will wear them through the remainder of your assignment. Should, on the off chance, you have TWO unauthorized orgasms, after completing the assignment and climaxing, you will turn the anal beads back to maximum and apply Stinging O to your clit. You will then find a FOURTH man to suck to completion while you remain clamped, stung, and vibrated. You may have a SECOND final orgasm.

Brandon

If you'll excuse me... I've got cock to suck.

Daily Assignment 04/26/11: The Scrubbie

The Scrubbie

04/26/11

Okay, first of all… for all you sadists out there, yes… I spent Sunday in agony. But this write-up isn’t ABOUT Sunday. It’s about SATURDAY, and a little nylon scrubbie I had between my legs thanks to Kittish K. But, I also made a promise. So even though I’d NORMALLY end this little tale after the assignment is completed, I will extend it just a bit longer and provide a BRIEF explanation of the ordeal I experienced on Easter Sunday. And yes, it hurt. A lot. But let’s move on.

You'd think I'd had enough of walking around malls dressed like a two bit hooker, my pussy tingling and creaming, while being the center of humiliating attention. But no... obviously not. Saturday started rather innocently. I had spent the early morning stuffed with my vibroballs, on low, slowly churning my insides into a mishmash of sexual need at least till a little past eight. Then I had an online torture session with Master Barrett that changed things dramatically. The vibroballs came out and the business end of a bristle brush went in. After I was close to cumming, Master Barrett had me attach a clothespin to my clit and THAT pushed me over the edge. Then I was in trouble for cumming when I wasn't given permission, so for punishment I had to keep the brush in, the clothespin on my clit, with a weight attached, and then with a butt plug up my ass. At least until I started my assignment.

I had originally planned to do the assignment AFTER lunch, but obviously, I moved things up on the schedule after that. I waved goodbye to my mom and headed out to "run errands". I had my bag with me. A few minutes later I had left the farm and pulled over.

I slammed the door of my truck closed and stepped out into the brilliant south Texas sunlight. It was warm, in the high eighties, even that early in the morning, and I was sort of glad that I was about to change into a pair of tight denim shorts, my high heels, and a cut-off tee shirt. I pushed my hair out of my eyes even as the south breeze whipped it around my head and I moved to the front of my truck in a sort of sedate motion, calm and collected. I pulled my regular tee shirt off first. No one was around of course, the road empty in both directions with nothing but a few early grasshoppers and the swish of grass echoing in my ears. Very different from last week. The Farm to Market road that runs past my farm is not a very busy road. It's all asphalt, mostly crumbling, and I'd be surprised if more than a dozen cars and trucks would pass by in an entire week, much less the two minutes it took to tug off my shirt and bra, fold both items up, and put on the new cut-off tee shirt. I felt the wind against my tummy, blowing up my shirt, caressing my breasts. I'm a 36B, bordering on C and I filled out that cut-off tee rather well. The front of the shirt dangled, leaving enough space between the bottom of the shirt and my skin for the average size car to drive up between my breasts and not encounter resistance of any kind. I personally think it looked rather hot, but that's just my opinion.

Next I had to deal with my "below the waist" issues. I was wearing a knee length skirt, which granted is a little long for my taste. I like my thighs exposed usually. But with a four inch brush handle sticking out of my pussy, along with a clothespin dangling downward, weighted with a piece of string and five heavy steel washers weighing about a quarter pound, not to mention a thick four inch butt plug in my ass, the long skirt was definitely the way to go. I unzipped it down the side and stepped out of it, wincing as the weights knocked against my lower thighs and my clit sent sharp protests in the form of pain up to my brain. Of course, it was my ass that hurt the most. When you have to take out the plug and put it back in every ten minutes or so for two and a half hours, your anal tract eventually starts protesting too. I almost passed out when I pulled off the clothespin. Removing the plug was a relief. Taking out the bristle brush... well... that was sexual agony. Everything went into a plastic baggie.



Free of my morning toys, I kicked off my flip flops and then slipped a blue bikini cut pair of cotton panties on. I forced the same shorts I had soaked the crotch in last week up around my waist. It took a moment. Don't worry, they were clean and decent, and they slipped over the panties rather nicely.

Next I put on some sensible shoes. Okay. Sensible for a nympho humiliation pain slut. They were heels of course, but not my stripper shoes. These were simple black strap open toed sandals with a three inch heel. Enough to look sexy. Of course with tight denim shorts and a shirt that barely covered my presented tits, it had a more "slutty" effect than I intended. Oh well, too bad, right? Thank God Kittish hadn’t specified me to wear my “fuck me” shoes. Those are just so over the top!

After getting escorted off mall property the previous week, I decided that going to the nearest mall was probably not the smartest idea, especially since I was essentially wearing practically the same outfit. Instead I drove about twenty minutes east and hit up a slightly smaller mall I've gone to a couple of times. I drove around a bit and finally found a parking space. I had been told in quite plain terms by Kittish that I needed to find a parking place as close to the entrance as possible. That was tough. I drove around for ten minutes until I finally found one two spaces away from the end of the aisle and front row. As a result, I was right next to the path a lot of people were walking on. I waited for a little bit until I got a clear spot and that's when I reached up and began unbuttoning my shorts. It didn't take much to push them down to my knees. I reached over to my bag and pulled out the next item I needed: the scrubbie. This was a rather simple ball of nylon loops made for "scrubbing" left over food off of dishes. To my fingers, it felt rather rough, but when I dragged it along the inside of my arm, all I felt was a slight scratching. That wouldn't be too bad, right?

I pulled the front of my bikini cut panties out away from my pussy. I was wet already, but that wouldn't surprise anyone, would it? I'm wet most of the time. Sometimes that’s a bit of an inconvenience. On the other hand I've been told that it's always nice for a guy to be able to place his dick right there and just push and I just open up and take it. Evidently some guys really like the fact that they can do a full penetration on the very first thrust. Go figure. I’m weird, or so I hear. Taking hold of the yellow scrubbie, I squeezed it until it had changed shape from the usual disk into something more elongated. Then I delicately placed it against my pussy, spreading my petals open and making sure that the top edge of the scrubbie rubbed against my clit while the bottom three quarters were splitting my pussy in two. I let the elastic of my panties snap into place and then pulled up my shorts.

And went to the mall.

Want to know what happens next? Check it out in the VIP Lounge of Michael Alexander Stories! Trust me, it's worth it.

NEW AT MICHAEL ALEXANDER STORIES! The Arcade Series: The Crane

It is rarely a good thing when the phone rings in the middle of the night. Unless you happen to be an insomniac or the night shift guard at some warehouse, the dulcet tones of the phone at two in the morning, waking you from a sound sleep, is almost like fingernails on a blackboard. For me that sound was the death knell I dreaded more than anything else: work, invading my personal time and space for some trivial irascible matter. I had gone to bed around eleven o’clock that night after spending a fascinating four hours playing Halo. Halo is especially captivating after you’ve had a few beers. And at one forty-five in the morning, I was feeling less than friendly as I picked up my cell phone and flipped it open.

“This is Jeff” I said, or at least I hope I said. It was entirely possible that it came out as an unintelligible mumble.

“Hello Jeff, this is Fadi, from FunPlace. I just wanted to call you and let you know that three of your employees have left their cars in our parking lot and please remind them that this is not allowed.” His voice was totally serious.

I blinked, trying hard to kick start my mind into gear. Fadi was one of the night managers at FunPlace, a huge mega-entertainment facility that hosted a wide variety of wallet emptying fun, including my arcade. Fadi’s thick Indian accent made what he said into something that could only remotely be called “Engrish”, but having dealt with the man on several occasions I was slowly picking up his vocal idiosyncrasies. Worse, this phone call was exactly the kind of bullshit I had to put up with as a business partner of FunPlace. My arcade was technically a revenue share business, meaning that I split the revenue in exchange for a place to set up. It made me somewhat independent, and Fadi resented it. Tonight’s phone call was a perfect example, as if calling me at two o’clock in the morning to complain about cars being parked over night at the facility was an issue I could do nothing about right this minute. It sure as hell could have waited till the morning.

“Uhhh…All right, Fadi. You had to call me at two o’clock in the morning to tell me this?” To be honest, I was pretty sure Fadi didn’t care. I didn’t work for him, nor did he work for me, and he probably enjoyed the opportunity to needle me a little. He resented my independent streak and the ability to buck the establishment.

“Oh no, the real reason I called was to tell you that you left your digital camera on one of the air hockey tables in the Main Concourse. I wanted to tell you that I put it on your prize counter.”

Why would the digital camera be out on an air hockey table? I asked myself. I had purchased a cheap digital camera a year or so ago in order to take pictures of some of our tournaments and parties. It was just one of those little extras I did. I normally kept the camera locked up in the office. It wasn’t an expensive one, so it wasn’t worth stealing, but it shouldn’t have been left on a game out on the main concourse.

“Thanks Fadi. Are you sure the girls aren’t still there?” I asked, suddenly concerned. It was, or actually had been, a Friday night and Jacqueline, Becky, and May had been scheduled to close. Jackie was a freckled faced natural red-head with one of those rarely seen Irish bodies, neither too thin nor too fat. She was my lead attendant and usually very responsible. Becky was my wild child, a stunning brunette with a fashion sense that leaned more toward black leather and handcuffs, and Maybelyn was a Latino girl with golden skin, a few interestingly placed tattoos, and a derrière made for spanking.

“No, they are not here, but I also had to turn the lights off…and some of the games.” Fadi replied. “You need to make sure your employees turn off the electricity. It is very expensive.”

I grunted something non-committal as my mind churned over the new information. Sitting up, I finished brushing the cobwebs from my mind.

“All right, Fadi” I said. “Thanks for the tips. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of.” I hoped my tone was polite enough. There was a few seconds of silence and then Fadi hung up.

“Bastard” I muttered as I put down my cell phone.

It took me only five minutes to put on something a bit more respectable than a pair of boxers and I grabbed my phone and keys and headed down to the car. Fadi’s little report had me concerned, especially with Jackie leaving the lights on. Something wasn’t right and I intended to find out what was going on.

The Arcade Series: The Crane completes the tale of Jeff, an arcade manager whose three errant employees have gotten into trouble before. This time however he's got all three to worry about, and when he arrives at the arcade, he's in for a BIG surprise! Now available in the VIP Lounge's NEW STORY ARCHIVE!

M/f+, torture, teen, job, humiliation, toys

"The Crane" joins the other New Story Archive collection including "Abduction", "The Arroyo", "The Trip (A Breanne Novel)", "Punishment:PFG" and of course "The Invitation". Join today to get access to all these new stories, Breanne's Assignment Archive, Character Profiles, the Choose Your Own Destiny story: The Club, and much more!

Voldemort's Wand

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Daily Assignment: 04/20/11 Orgasms At The Mall

Orgasms At The Mall

04/20/2011

Breanne, you will go to the mall dressed in your stripper shoes, daisy dukes, and your loose white cut off t- shirt. Underneath your clothing you will have your vibrating anal beads inserted, you will wear your RVP, and you will have clover clamps attached to your nipples. You will wear your rubber bands on your feet. Prior to inserting the anal beads and RVP, and attaching the clamps, you will coat all three toys with Stinging O. When you arrive at the mall, both functions of the RVP, as well as the anal beads, will be turned to maximum. You will place two of your half pound weights on the chain between the clover clamps. You will then walk the mall with the goal of giving out to strangers more orgasms than you. When you orgasm, you are too give yourself 10 snaps of the rubber band to each foot. After every orgasm you are to remove the sex toys, re-lubricate them as well as your nipples, and continue your walk. You will remain at the mall for a minimum of three hours. Each orgasm must take place in a different location in the mall. – Master Barrett

I stood there for a second, trying to decide what to do. Duck and hide? Run? Turn and face the consequences? To be honest, I so rarely even SEE a car or truck on the little farm to market road south of my farm, let alone while I’m in the process of stripping! I stood there, completely naked, wearing just my flip flops, while the truck approached. Worse, it was coming from the north, meaning that the driver was about to get a really good view of my bare ass. I closed my eyes, hearing the thrum of slowing tires. I could hear the slight squeal of brakes and when I opened my eyes, the white pick up truck was stopped opposite mine, the driver, a grizzled looking guy in his fifties sat there staring at me with a big grin on his face.

“You doing all right missy?” he asked politely enough, though his eyes didn’t come close to my face. I sort of expected that to be honest. When you’re only wearing flip flops, what do you expect? It’s not like you can wave your hand in front of a guy’s face, point to your eyes and say “I’m up here.” Not like that. I put on a big pretend smile, pushing my acute embarrassment down into my stomach. Already that sensation was sinking and I could feel the wetness between my legs increasing. I wondered if he knew what the large flesh colored rubber thing sitting on the hood of my truck was.

“I’m fine, sir. Thanks for asking. Just getting changed,” I replied nonchalantly, as if this were a daily occurrence.

“Really.” His eyebrows went up.

I nodded emphatically this time. “Absolutely! See?”

I picked up my white tee shirt and pulled it down over my head. It covered my breasts, but just barely, leaving my entire midriff exposed. Worse, the shirt was loose, and stuck out, leaving quite a bit of room for roaming eyes to look UP my shirt. Talk about weird, right? I gave my audience another smile.

“I see.”

I could tell he wasn’t moving until I was finished, so I ignored the sudden pulse between my legs and picked up my RVP, (my Rotating Venus Penis!) and slipped it in, making sure the four inch cock was firmly buried inside my now quite wet, dripping, and already desperate pussy. A quick glance told me that my audience was now NEVER leaving, hoping that even MORE interesting things would happen. I decided to oblige him. Normally I put my vibrating anal beads in while half laying down in the cab. This time however I pulled them out of the bag on the hood, squirted a little grapeseed oil on them (I keep a bottle on hand at ALL times) and began pushing them one by one into my ass, facing away from Grizzly Adams in the truck, with one leg up on my truck’s bumper.

Nothing was said, even though it took maybe four or five minutes to get all eight balls seated inside my bottom. I’m not a fan of anything in my ass, but since the assignment I was embarking on required it, I really didn’t have a choice.

“You enjoy that sort of thing?” he asked.

I turned and looked over my shoulder. I shook my head. “Not really.”

He gave me a quirky look. “Then why do it?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I got told too.”

He didn’t reply, mentally digesting that as I grabbed hold of the daisy duke short shorts. They were blue denim, extremely tight, and I felt like I was constricting the blood flow into my legs as I pulled them up my thighs. I had to pull hard to get them over my hips, but I managed and then I buttoned them up. The remotes to both the RVP and the anal beads went into the back pockets and I smiled over at my audience.

“See? All dressed!” I announced.

Sort of like this, but in white!

He shook his head in wonderment. “Where were you when I was younger,” he asked, more of himself than me. Then he gunned the engine and took off. I stared, watching him go, my pussy contracting around the little cock of the RVP. I turned back toward my bag and got out my fuck me shoes, the four inch platform heels I affectionately and accurately call my “stripper shoes”. They went on my feet while my flip flops got tucked into the bag. Then, dressed appropriately, I went to the mall.

It was still closed, which was good, though the common mall area was already open to the public. Being Sunday, I knew it would be pretty busy come lunch time, and I was sort of dreading the last two hours of my three hour “tour”, especially dressed the way I was. I was a walking billboard for sexuality. You could visibly see the square base of the RVP through my shorts, right in my crotch, which of course would raise all sorts of questions (mostly WTF is that?), not to mention the fact that the shoes, super short tight shorts, and the cut off white tee shirt would draw the eye as well. I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties and the opportunities for potential exposure was high.

I sat in my truck for a few moments and reached into my bag. The first thing I got out were the rubber bands. I slipped off the fuck me shoes and popped a rubber band over each arch. Thank God they were flesh toned already. They were barely noticeable. Then I got out the Japanese Clover clamps. Clover clamps have these large thick metal mechanisms that are designed to tighten the more they are pulled on . I didn’t even have to lift my shirt in order to pinch the tight pincers onto my nipples. I shuddered in sexual ecstasy as the slight discomfort in my breasts electrified and intensified the sensation in my pussy. The chain between the clamps dangled down beneath the bottom of the shirt, stretching almost too my belly button. It was fairly obvious the chain was connected to my breasts. That’s where I hung the 1 lb. weight too. It pulled on my nipples and I could literally FEEL the clamps tightening a bit more.

I pulled out my bottle of Stinging O, lubed a finger, and dipped it into my shorts. In moments both my rear and my clit began tingling and I had to bite my lip as my pussy began throbbing in earnest. Another daub of lotion, applied to my aching nipples, added even more intensity to my immediate sexual need. I got out of the truck trembling, already close to orgasmic release, and I headed into the mall.

At the door, I pulled both remotes out of my pockets and turned them on, to maximum. The vibrating anal beads roared to life in my ass, sending ripples of bottom tightening need through my loins. The RVP began shaking, translating the back and forth movement into the four inch cock penetrating my depths, but also through the large rectangular base, the top of which was pressed to my clit. I thumbed the slider for the rotating function and the cock inside me not only vibrated, but began to spin. My jaw tightened as I took a few tentative steps.

And exploded orgasmically with a wet groan as I leaned against the wall, eyes closed, my entire lower half seemingly to pulse in wet rapid jerks. I tried (in vain) to keep my hips from jerking around in a lewd display of virtual fucking. I’d tell you that I recovered almost immediately afterward, but that would be a lie. I didn’t recover. I NEVER recovered. While I cam down from my climax, I only made it down a bit before the running, churning, pulsing, throbbing sexual toys inside me turned me around and started me back up the mountain. I opened my eyes and walked on, looking for the first available guy to actually suck or fuck or at least make cum.

There aren’t a lot of people at the mall an hour before opening on a Sunday. I passed one security officer who gave me a very long hard look, but then we kept moving and I didn’t get kicked out at that point. I approached two guys while walking along, both of them venders, and both, while obviously wanting to cum with me somewhere more private, felt they couldn’t leave their booths. What the hell is wrong with people these days? Fifteen minutes later I was ducking into a small shadowed alcove between two stores as orgasm number two rushed through me. I let out a soft whimper of sexual release as my thighs moved in and out and I turned against the wall, specifically the corner, and began rubbing my body up and down the façade.

Orgasm number three came twenty minutes later, which is surprising because it felt really quick, especially considering what was going on in my shorts. My walk had become rather stilted, mostly from the swaying of the chain connected to my breasts, the weight, and the intense stimulation being inflicted upon my nether regions. Not to mention the fact that I had to find a bathroom right after each orgasm. Got to apply a little bit of Stinging O, right?

It wasn’t till around eleven thirty that I managed to score my first “other orgasm” and it was just in time too, since while I was on my knees in the men’s bathroom sucking this one guy’s cock, I shuddered through my fourth orgasm. Evidently it improved my performance because moments later he came, spurting into my mouth, across my face, and splattering my white cut-off tee shirt.

Oops.

I tried to clean it up as best I could, but admit I was a bit distracted by the fact that I was STILL being over-stimulated with sex toys. My orgasms were getting farther apart, but they were getting more intense too, and I was having more trouble keeping my game face on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to HIDE the fact that you’re having an orgasm while walking along in public? Or even the fact that you’re being sexually stimulated? I must have looked like I was drunk, weaving and waving, one hand on the wall keeping me semi-upright. All I really wanted to do was strip naked, lay on the floor, rip the toys out and off and let anyone who wanted fuck me.

And that’s just the physical torture. Let me explain the MENTAL. First of all, when you’re being constantly stimulated like that, your brain doesn’t handle it all that well. Sure, it feels good, especially at first and your body releases all sorts of pleasant chemicals into your blood stream. Your brain can handle both the stimulation and the resulting climax. But then, when that stimulation DOESN’T STOP, your brain starts to ask, “what the hell is wrong here?” It begins a conflict with your body’s nerves. Then, if you orgasm again, it really gets messed up. As your nerves begin to report over-stimulation, your brain suddenly starts thinking orgasm is bad. Now it my case, my brain was ALSO processing every look, every smirk, every leer, every grimace of disgust, every laugh, of everyone I passed. Even if they weren’t meaning me, my brain, in it’s hyper-sensitive state, interpreted it as commentary on my attire, my behavior, on me. I flushed with embarrassment. I cringed at the derogatory comments I thought I could hear. Then there was the pain, another aphrodisiac as far as I’m concerned. My nipples ached and throbbed. My clit was tender and sore. My ass felt bruised from all my tight and involuntary squeezing of the vibrating anal beads. My feet ached from the heels, and even the few times I had found a quiet out of the way bench to take off the shoes, I had only done it to snap those stupid rubber bands multiple times against my soles. I hurt. I was embarrassed. I was over-stimulated. And I was still cumming.

In hindsight, it was stupid. I walked past Julie’s jewelry store. I’m not sure if it was because I had hoped she’d be there, or because I hoped she wouldn’t, but she was and she saw me, her eyes widening at my attire. It was right before noon and the mall was quickly filling up with people, all of whom seemed to be staring at me. Perhaps it was the splatters of cum on my shirt, making a good portion of it semi-transparent. Perhaps it was the fuck me heels. Maybe it was the fact that my shorts were so tight they were waiting for the blood flow to my legs to get cut off. Maybe it was because I seemed to be having trouble walking, clearly in the throes of some sort of emotional or physical overload.

“What the fuck are you doing, slut?” demanded Julie as the she pulled the gate upward. I stumbled into the tiny store and she closed the metal grating behind me. “Back room. Now.”

I stumbled my way through the store, more from an approaching orgasm than any inability to walk gracefully in four inch platform heels with an included four inch heel. I opened the back door to the small storage room and office and Julie followed. Boxes lined the shelves and I stepped around the small chair and desk and stood near the one bare wall.

“Explain yourself,” she ordered.

So I told her everything. About how I was supposed to walk the mall dressed like this, stuffed with vibrating anal beads, my RVP, coated with Stinging O, my nipples clamped and weighted, rubber bands on my feet. I told her the goal was to give more orgasms to other people than to have myself.

“How many have you had?” Julie asked.

“Four. But I’m pretty close to number five right now,” I said, though I admit my voice was a little rough, trying to maintain control.

“How many orgasms have you give out?”

“One” I whispered.

“What happens if you screw up?” Julie asked.

“I get ass fucked a lot,” I replied.

Julie nodded, her lips pressed together. She lifted her hand and I flinched, expecting her to hit me. But instead her fingers went past my face and grabbed a roll of duct tape from the shelf near my head.

“Turn around,” she ordered. I complied, wondering what was about to happen. She roughly grabbed my left wrist and I heard a strip of tape being pulled from the roll. I felt her press it to my bare skin, right below my hand and then she brought my other arm down. I blinked in surprise. Suddenly I was BOUND, my hands behind my back! Tightly secured (and yes I DID try to get loose), Julie tore a smaller strip off the roll and placed it across my mouth. Then, bound and gagged, she pushed me into one darkened corner of the odd shaped back room. I found myself staring at a wall that contained a fuse box and a few steel pipes that went from floor to ceiling. I was pushed forward until my nose touched the pipe.

Then I felt Julie’s hands on my shirt, lifting it up, exposing both breasts. I almost fell when she unclipped the clamp from my right nipple. Blood rushed back into the crushed nipple and if she hadn’t pushed me against the wall I would have fallen. The orgasm that had been building inside me suddenly surged. I made little wailing noises through the duct tape across my mouth.

And then Julie threaded the chain connecting the clamps AROUND the pipe. Behind it actually. Then with dreaded efficiency, she squeezed the clover clamp open and before my nipple was even recovered, crushed it again tightly. I exploded, shaking in orgasmic bliss. I pulled away from the wall and pipe and the clover clamps tightened as I tugged. Pain lanced through my breasts.



When the orgasm was over I found myself leaning against the wall and pipe, clearly tired, clearly weak, and barely able to stand. But I had no where to go. Julie smacked me once on the bottom, declared she had to open the store, and to enjoy myself. When she was gone I looked around. There was a bracket holding the pipe to the wall just inches below where I was chained, so there was no way for me to sit down. Even had the office chair been close enough for me to snag with a foot, I wouldn’t have been able to do much more than kneel on it.

After ten minutes, I was seriously considering yanking out of the clover clamps. Had they been any other kind, I would have. Even if they had been the alligators, I was in so much agony that I would have done it. I never realized how being forced to maintain a single position, especially when only marginally bound, could hurt! My legs hurt. My breasts felt as if someone had pinned them to a board and I was being lifted by them. My clit felt as if someone had given it a rug burn. My ass hurt almost as much as when I’ve done large butt plug speed penetrations. My feet…oh god!

Julie appeared about fifteen minutes after I had come. Without a word, she stepped up behind me, grabbed my right foot and lifted it up as if I were a horse and she were checking my hooves. I’ve done that exact thing thousands of times. She slipped off my fuck me shoe, grabbed the rubber band, and started snapping. Pain exploded up from my sole. And she didn’t wait for me to recover either. I jerked, but her fingers tightened on my ankle and there was nothing I could do. I squealed, shaking, my breasts pulled taut as I moved my body away from the pipe. Ten snaps hurt like hell and then she put my shoe back on and picked up the OTHER foot.

I was crying by the time she put my stripper shoes back on and then she was holding my bottle of Stinging O, squirting a liberal amount on her finger. This went onto my clamped nipples, without releasing the clamps of course. Then she unbuttoned my shorts, yanked them down to my knees and lubricated my clit with enough lotion for it to slide down through my folds. A cool tingling exploded through my slit that quickly turned to the same sort of chemical heat my nipples were experiencing. I screamed and stamped my feet, but short of giving myself another hard yank on my breasts, nothing was accomplished.

She left me again. Orgasm six hit maybe twenty minutes later and my pussy was on fire. I was starting to drip snot that mixed with tears as she came back in, grabbed my right foot and…

An hour and a half. Eleven orgasms total at the mall, though I admit the last one was on the way out while being escorted by security to my car. Julie finally released me around one thirty, when I had experienced a total of ten orgasms. I could barely stand at that point. The soles of my feet were bright red. My breasts had become numb, and I hurt in places that I shouldn’t have thanks to the awkward position. Several times during my ordeal she had pulled the RVP completely out of my pussy, squirted Stinging O on the rotating vibrating cock, and jammed it back in. Even my pussy ached and my clit… well that was just so swollen and red that a single fingernail dragged across it would have had me jumping. Julie was smart and didn’t take the gag off until AFTER she unclipped my left nipple from the clamp and pulled me away from the pipe. She did let me sit down though, and while I cried and sobbed and tried to collect myself, she sucked on my hurt breast, tonguing it. Then when it appeared I had recovered, she clipped the clover clamp back on.

She cut the tape on my hands and I pulled the strip from across my mouth.

“You better freshen up a bit before you go out,” Julie told me. I nodded and moved to a tiny mirror on the wall by the door. My face was blotchy and Julie handed me a wet wipe. I cleaned myself up, pulled my shirt down over my clamped nipples, and got my shorts back in order. My shirt had dried so it was no longer semi-transparent in spots, but it was clear that SOMETHING had been squirted across my chest.

“Before you go…” Julie said suddenly, right before we left the office, “there’s just one more thing.”

I turned and looked at her, a quizzical expression on my face. Suddenly she lifted both hands and then brought them together as if she were going to box my ears. Except her target was lower. I felt the impact on the outsides of both breasts and the impact set the chain and clamps swaying. My breasts already hurt so much. I brought my arms up over them, holding myself, my teeth clenched tightly as tears once more came to my eyes.

“I didn’t want you thinking that I wasn’t going to hit you anymore,” Julie said. Then she grabbed me and kissed me, hard on the lips. “I want you. Call me for a date.”

Then I was pushed out of the back room. Another love tap on my ass sent me forward and I stepped out into a ridiculously crowded mall.

I was instantly the center of attention. I kept my arms folded across my chest, trying to hide my clamped breasts, my bared midriff, and the dangling weight. It had been ten or fifteen minutes since my last orgasm and all I could think about was “oh shit, I’ve got to make nine more people cum before I climax again!” I began stumbling down the corridor, glancing at shops and people, enduring stares and glares, licked lips and hungry eyes. At one point someone squeezed my butt cheek, but when I whirled I didn’t know who had done it.

It was too busy! My mind whirled. There were too many people. My skin crawled as I brushed against one person and then another. My nipples throbbed. I felt another orgasm building. My steps were halting, faltering and as I leaned up against one store façade, trying to calm down, to keep the next orgasm from laying me out on the floor.

“Miss?”

I looked up. It was a security officer, is white shirt immaculate.

“What are you doing?”

Not “are you okay?” or “can I help you?” but “what are you doing?”

I summoned up every bit of strength. “Walking the mall, sir.”

He looked down at my attire. “Dressed like that?” he demanded.

I glanced around. People were staring. “Is there someplace close by that’s private where we could talk?” I begged.

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. A few moments later I followed him into a service corridor and then he unlocked a maintenance room. I looked around. More pipes. Lots and lots of pipes. I turned toward the security officer and explained what was going on. All of it. I showed him the clamps, lifting my shirt. I pulled out the remotes for both the anal beads and the RVP. I explained to him I had to make more people cum than I had, and I told him how short I was of achieving my goal. The only thing I left out was Julie and my hour and a half being sexually tortured in the back room of her store.

He stood there impassively, not even reacting to my story or exposed breasts. His arms stayed crossed, though his eyebrows went up a few times. Finally when I finished he shook his head.

“Sorry, Breanne. This isn’t a good place for this kind of thing. We’ve got kids here, there’s going to be complaints. You’re going to have to leave mall property.”

My eyes widened. “Please! I have to make more people cum!” I begged.

He shook his head. “Sorry. I’ll escort you to your vehicle.” He turned to leave.

“What if I refuse?” I demanded.

“Then I’ll call the police and have you trespassed and you’ll never be allowed to come to the mall again. Not to mention you might get arrested for public lewdness considering what you’ve got stuffed up inside you right now,” he said. “So let’s go.”

I hesitated. Not getting arrested was on my list of things to do that day, but with ten orgasms and only one returned, I just HAD to reduce the upcoming punishment.

“Wait!” I said. “Please! Please! Okay, I’ll leave. Just one thing.”

He turned and gave me a bored look. “What?”

“Let me suck your cock,” I said hurriedly. “Then I’ll go.”

He stared at me for a moment. I tried to look as sexy and desirable as possible. I lowered my eyelashes, crossed my ankles, and tried not show that I was getting close to another orgasm.

He took a step toward me, then another. When he was in touching distance I went to my knees. I just unzipped him, since he had those big belts on and I didn’t want to undo it. In moments his cock was hitting me in the face and I wrapped my mouth around it and did what I do.



He was much cleaner than guy number one. He tasted pretty good too, and when he came I managed to swallow it all. Then we straightened his uniform, I stood up, and he escorted me out of the mall.

In the parking lot I swayed, cried out and fell against him. He held me upright while the orgasmic rush exploded through me. I looked down. The crotch of my Daisy Dukes was soaked. I shuddered and he held me up. Finally I was able to take another step.

“You can’t drive like this,” he said as we got to my truck. I pulled the remotes out and for the first time in almost three hours, turned the motors to blessed stillness and silence. I gave my security guard a wan smile.

“I can drive now. Thanks for helping me to my truck.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling at me.

“See ya!” I said, then climbed into the truck. He watched as I got my keys into the ignition. Then he rapped on the window.

“Will I see you again?” he suddenly blurted.

I grinned. “Probably on my next assignment! But hopefully you won’t have to ask me to leave next time!”

Then I drove away.

Yes. I know. I violated all sorts of strictures on this assignment. Master Barrett was… uh… well… to be honest, he was pleased. Evidently I owe him something like 62 ass fucks that were to be originally delivered one per hour, but obviously I can’t deliver on THAT requirement. So he’s thinking up an alternate punishment for screwing things up so badly. In my defense, it was Julie’s fault. She fucking TIED me to a pipe for over an hour! She hit me too!

Um… please excuse me. I need to go call Julie actually. Got to arrange a date!

See ya!