An Eye Test

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It's Finally HERE! Breanne Erickson's "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume #1" is available from Amazon.com for a meager .99 cents! How's that for an introductory offer!

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New Cover Art For Skeleton Closet Stories!

The Skeleton Closet of the VIP Lounge of Michael Alexander Stories is known for its dark contents. We've recently ginned up some new cover art to promote the two (so far) stories that populate that dark space.


In dystopian universe with futuristic technology and set in a town reminiscent of the American Old West, Breanne lets us follow along on another NHPS adventure that might come to a short and abrupt ending.


Prisoner and test subject, Holly has no idea what is coming next. She knows one thing though: it's going to hurt.


Both stories are available in the Michael Alexander Stories VIP Lounge! If you aren't a member already, be ready... on July 1st we reopen the lounge to new members!

The Nature

Delve into another phenomenal story by Breanne Erikson - The Nature. Posted to AfterDark Online!

Pain explodes through my breasts as he pulls me upward. My bound hands writhe at the small of my back and even the relief I feel from no longer having so much of my weight on my own tied arms is nothing compared to the agony lancing through each nipple. I can feel his cock inside me, thrusting, pumping as he pulls me up by my tits, each nipple caught delicately but firmly in the bite of the clover clamps. His hand is on the chain between them, tugging, holding me up, pulling me. He is near the edge, but so am I, and without permission I shake, crying out my release even as I feel him hardening inside me. He grimaces at my weakness as he cums, his hand still tugging hard on my clamped tits and it is a combination of pain and pleasure as he explodes inside my pussy, filling me.

He is finished, but I am not, and he rolls off me and then pulls me to my feet; by the nipple clamp chain. Fire perforates each nipple and I stumble forward, almost unendurable pain shooting out from my breasts. I’m led out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, hands still bound behind my back. He lets loose the clamps, only to push me forward and down. I fall to my knees, the hard tile floor hurting just a moment before he shoves me forward with a knee. I straighten my back and feel the table top pressing into my ribs, just under my breasts. But then he pushes down on my shoulders and I fold slightly to his touch. My bosom rests on the table.

Click here or the graphic below to read Breanne' Erikson's fictional piece: The Nature.

(This story will also be available in the VIP Lounge of Michael Alexander Stories)

Another Scavenger Hunt Part Two

If you haven't read part one, you need to. Seriously. You will have absolutely no clue what is going on if you don't. Trust me.

06/17/11
Church - Special Person: Preacher

Sunday started off just as you would expect: with me terribly horny and wanting a serious screwing. But since I wake up like that on most days, it’s not like this revelation is news or anything. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through my petals. I was wet, which is no surprise either, and I have to admit that getting a hold of the small string attached to the ben wa balls that had nested inside me all night sent shivers of an animal like lust through me to the core.

But I pulled them out and dropped them on my… um… excess juice towel. (Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like.) Sunday’s toy was rather more intense, intentionally so, and I slipped the two vibroballs into my pre-lubricated well with a familiarity that most women reserve for their special lovers. I wriggled my hips to seat them, and then moved the dial to the lowest setting. The two vibroballs began trembling inside me, changing the sexual urgency inside me from “present on the horizon” to “fast approaching orgasm.”

There were still a lot of things to do that morning. I went downstairs, pausing in the living room. My dad, surprisingly, was asleep on the couch. That was terribly weird. But then again, so was the fact that he had been up when I got home. Usually my father is a ten o’clock bed fiend. For him to stay up, watching the television, was rather unusual. Even odder was the fact that he didn’t go back upstairs to bed. It also meant that I’d have to do my thing in the living room last. I could hardly go grab my Core Driller dildo and have a go at myself while he was lying on the couch sleeping a few feet away! So I tiptoed past him and went out to the barn.

I took care of the critters and an hour later was in the kitchen helping my mom get breakfast ready. She chewed my dad out for sleeping on the couch, but it wasn’t a serious yelling and he took it meekly. But he smiled at me with a gleam in his eye and an easy laugh. Obviously he wasn’t phased by my mother’s “mothering.” I guess we’re all used to it!.

After breakfast I changed into something a little nicer, a respectable summer dress. Yes, I know, every one of you is disappointed. But you don’t go to church dressed like a hooker when you’re accompanied by your family. There are some things you just don’t do. On the flip side, I still looked hot. Well… I THINK I looked hot. I wore two inch heels and my bare legs were long and smooth and nicely shaped and everything.

After mass we stopped at the recreation hall for donuts and hobnobbing, which is what my mom calls it. I call it boring. So while my parents were off doing their weekly chitchat with friends, I strolled off into the semi-populated bowels of the church. Our church isn’t exactly the biggest on the planet and it doesn’t take very long to wander your way through it. However, we’ve been going for about… oh… all my life, and that kind of familiarity breeds… uh… well… um… not contempt (sorta), but a knowledge of where to drag eighteen year old Grant Chase in order to bestow my blessings upon him.

That spot happened to be an Audio Visual closet that was only marginally stuffed with an old television set on a cart and some other strange and barely recognizable electronic things. I had to ask my dad once what those strange boxy cartridge things were (I’ve been in the AV closet quite a few times since I was 15) and he laughed when he said they were 8-tracks. I was like, “8-tracks? They only have eight songs?”

Yeah, I know. I should dye my hair blond, right?

Oh geeze, Kari is so going to kick my ass when she reads that one. Blond jokes were instant punishment back in the old days. I once had my hands tied behind my back, stood in the center of the living room, and watched as Kari used string to tie my nipples to the ceiling fan. It went around, twisting the string tighter and tighter, pulling me upward. She didn’t turn off the switch until both nipples were purple and I was standing on tip toe. I tried hard not to make blond jokes after that.

Grant Chase was your typical high school senior. Don’t worry, he was of age, and more than willing to accompany me to that small closet, pull down the front of his black pants, and let me nibble on his holy scepter. While he wasn’t the priest, I sorta doubted I’d be able to seduce our good shepherd into taking a little extra care of one of his sheep. So the sheep would have to fuck the sheep. It wasn’t much of a problem. Grant wasn’t used to girls like me and my skills at sucking cock, while not legendary, are pretty decent. He popped within five minutes of being in my mouth. I swallowed most of it, but on his last spurt he accidentally jerked out of my mouth and sent a stream of cum that hit my left shoulder and trickled down my dress. Damn. I tried to clean it up with toilet paper, but anyone with half a brain would know it was cum.



It didn’t help either that by this time my vibroballs had me in a state of hyperactive sexuality. I thought about fucking Grant, but I had forgotten my purse, and thus my condoms, and I wasn’t about to rely on the Holy Spirit as a means of making sure everything was kosher. Besides, I’m not quite sure God would have my best interests in mind. He did say “go forth and multiply,” right? Besides, I’ve met God and he seemed pretty sexually sadistic. I’m pretty sure he LIKED the idea of me being desperately horny in his house.

After church we headed home. I expected my mom to say something about the semi-transparent blotch on the upper slope of my left breast, but it was my dad who stepped close, lifting a finger and running it, not over the stain, but along side it. He shook his head without a word and then got in the car. I drove everyone home (Dad can’t drive with his leg like it is) and ran upstairs to change.

I also stuffed everything I needed in my bag. Condoms? Check. Clothes to change in to? Check. High heels? Check. Clover clamps? Check. List of places and people I needed to fuck? Check.

And so with a wave to my family and my dad’s admonishment to “have fun!” (Oh trust me I will, Dad!) I hopped into my truck and drove down our gravel drive. The farm to market road that borders our farm was, as usual, deserted, so it wasn’t much of a problem to strip off my tee shirt, bra, denim shorts, and panties, and pull the tight stretchy short black skirt up over my ass. Master Brandon had kindly granted me the right to wear what I wanted today, as long as it was “appropriately slutty”. So instead of a tee shirt, I wore my chevron shirt, a beautiful top that left my back completely bare and tied around my neck and then once more down by my waist. The collar was low, leaving a lot of cleavage visible, but the sides of my breasts were also exposed, making the gold, brown, and red pattern of the shirt that much more appealing.

Once appropriately dressed, I headed down the road to my first stop. It was time to buy a new car.

Car Dealership - Customer Buying a New Car

Anytime you step onto a car dealership’s property, there is some sort of internal inaudible alarm that alerts every salesman that someone, probably gullible, has arrived. I’ve never bought a new car actually. My Saturn coupe was bought used, but I actually bought it, so I’m at least somewhat familiar with the process. You go in, get fawned over, take a vehicle for a test drive (you have to give them your license and credit card to do that) and then you and the sales clerk go for a nice little drive. Then you come back, visit the finance people while they run your credit and add up the total amount for the car including tax, title, and license, and usually a zillion fees.

I was planning on just seeing things through to the “end of the test drive section”. Granted, the assignment specifically stated that the “special person” was a customer buying a new car, but the likelihood of me finding a person actually BUYING a car was pretty slim, not to mention the fact that getting said person alone… well… I was hedging my bets. Easier just to fuck or suck a sales guy any day of the week.

I got out of my truck and wandered on over to the Chevy Suburbans. I was looking for something very specific in my “new car.” I needed heavily tinted windows, as wide a body as possible, and a comfortable looking back seat. I’ve had sex in a lot of different cars before (including one really weird and gymnastic session in a mini Cooper) and let me tell you, for good sex, you need a pretty generous back seat. Or if you’re a SUV person, good padding is essential. Let’s see… I’ve had sex in a Dodge Durango, a Nissan Pathfinder, a Ford Explorer, the Lucerne, two Cadillac SeVilles, a number of Camaro sports cars, two Corvettes, one Ford Mustang, a whole smattering of pick up truck beds (including mine), the mini-Cooper I mentioned, and once in a modern VW Beetle. I may have forgotten a few. When you test fuck as many cars as I have over the years, it sort of all blends into this mishmash of interior textures and colors. Sorry.

I only had to look at three different Suburbans before the sales guy descended upon me. I’m not going to describe him. Let’s just say he was my type. Granted, I have a rather wide open opinion of my type (male and reasonably clean) but he had a gruff cuteness about him as well that made me want to untie my shirt and let him wax and buff my breasts.

I told a little white lie in order to get him to get the keys to the Suburban and in short order I was climbing in and out of the vehicle. He did seem a little confused as to why I checked out the backseat first, rather than getting behind the wheel, but after I sat down in the driver’s seat and pretended to check all the controls, he was much more comfortable. That’s when I told him I wanted to take it for a test drive. He was very pleased and we walked back to the sales center for them to take a copy of my driver’s license and hold onto a credit card while I took their sales clerk for a test drive.

Oops. Did I say sales clerk? I meant their SUV.

I’m one of those girls who are fairly comfortable driving new and large vehicles. I’ve been driving our tractor at the farm from the time I was ten. Our combine pulls a large assortment of harvesters, bailers, ploughs, and cutters. I think I could probably handle anything from a semi-truck right down to a tank.

A tank! Wow! There’s an idea! Anyone who let’s me drive their tank around can use me for target practice afterward! Especially if they’re working on their PENETRATION ability.

I started the SUV with … uh… Greg. I’ll call him Greg, sitting next to me. I drove carefully, and well under the speed limit as I turned out onto the frontage road and drove cautiously east bound. I had a plan and it was a pretty good one. I went all the way down to the light, crossed the intersection, and then got on the freeway. That made Greg a little more nervous, I could tell. But I accelerated normally and made some lighthearted talk about checking acceleration and smoothness of the transmission.

What? Don’t look at me like that. I’m not stupid. I may not be able to repair an engine, but I change the oil on tractor and both my cars. Usually. I have a BASIC understanding of how it all works.

To ease Greg’s fears, I took the next exit, which was all part of the plan. Another left had us facing in the correct direction, but instead of getting back on the freeway, I turned right instead and began making comments about stop and start and how I wanted to test the vehicle under low speed neighborhood conditions.

Greg was reasonable, but now he was looking at me a little differently. I’m not sure what his deal was. That was why I immediately pulled the Suburban over at the first large enough shoulder.

“Is anything wrong?” Greg asked. I gave him one of my million watt come get in the back seat with me smiles.

I shook my head. “Nothing. But I need to check something in the back seat.”

Greg gave me this confused expression and I hopped out of the driver’s seat, and climbed into the back. Greg twisted in his seat to watch me, which was exactly what I wanted. I slowly slid side ways until I was literally lying across the bench seat.

“What are you doing?” Greg asked. The tone of his voice made it tough to tell whether he was getting turned on or whether he was concerned this sale wasn’t going to go where he wanted it to go.

“I’m testing this seat,” I replied. “I’m not sure about the texture though.” I wriggled a bit which had my skirt slipping upward in no time. I reached up to my chevron shirt and obviously squeezed both breasts. Greg looked at me with astonishment.

“Hey… you can’t…” his voice trailed off. That was possibly in response to the fact that I had scrunched the shirt material and managed to pop my breasts out of the sides of the shirt. Now the material was crumpled and nestled between both breasts as I played with the tips. I suddenly sat upright, legs spread. From the way Greg’s eyes moved from my breasts to my crotch, I knew that my pussy was now clearly in view.

“Do you think this back seat is good for sucking cock?” I asked, still maintaining a professional tone. His mouth was still open. “Would you mind coming back here? I need to test it.”

Have you ever seen a zombie movie? Or a hypnosis session? Or how about Star Wars? “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Greg was clearly a weak minded fool because my Jedi mind tricks had him out of the front seat and into the back before he even had time to think about it. He closed the door and I immediately was unbuckling his pants. His cock was hard and I went down on his stick shift, immediately moving him from park to drive. He moaned as his engine revved and I pistoned up and down on his rod. There was plenty of lubrication; my mouth provided plenty and I could taste a bit of pre-cum as well. His fingers found my breasts, squeezing the tips and sending sparks through my plugs, igniting my fuel and making me ready for a nice long road trip.

Okay, maybe that’s enough car puns, right?

I could tell he was getting close. I had intended this whole operation to be just a blowjob, but I was way to desperate. Instead I grabbed my bag, got out a condom, and put it on Greg’s pipe. He didn’t object. In fact, when I pulled out the vibroballs and turned them off, he seemed to enjoy the whole sight. Then I discovered that the back seat of a Suburban is certainly big enough to fuck in. I straddled him like a lap dancer, ground myself down, and ran his thick cock through my folds. His thighs pumped against me and he grabbed me, pulling me down for a hungry kiss even as his rough hands caressed my breasts, tweaking my nipples. I felt him rise up, his cock spearing me as I let myself open and then I was pinned. I put my hands on the roof as he thrust upward and we made love, pulsing in time to the purr of the engine. Minutes later we changed position and I was suddenly on my back against the seat, my legs up in the air, with him kneeling between my legs. My head was pressed against the door but that didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was that the new position was incredible and Greg drove into me with an urgency that had me screaming in delight and begging for it to be harder and faster. I came with a cry and Greg thought it was him. It wasn’t. He wasn’t a better lover than any other I’ve had, but I’d been in a sexually deprived state since the previous night, struggling with almost constant sexual stimulation. I was dry tinder. He was fire, along with a large bucket of gasoline. Is there any surprise I exploded? I don’t think so.



But it made him feel good and a moment later he added his own fireworks to the intensity of my detonation. (Michael! I used the thesaurus for that one! Like it? LOL) Then Greg slumped against me, his mouth nibbling on my breasts as we both slowly calmed down. Greg stayed in me until he was soft, which I absolutely love. I hate guys who pull out seconds after they’ve come. I want the weight, the sense of fullness, of being complete. It’s… romantic.

I helped him pull of the condom and I tossed it out the window before going back down and sucking him clean. His cum was salty and a bit tangy, but not bad and he just moaned, managing a semi-hard response. I stopped then. I was pretty much satisfied at that point. I retrieved my vibroballs from the floor of the back seat and slipped them back into my wet and satisfied pussy, turning the dial back to low. I felt them of course, but the tension was gone. The vibrations just felt… good. Present, but neither intense or stimulating. Of course I knew that would change. But it would be a while before I was dry tinder again.

I fixed my shirt and skirt as Greg managed to get his own casual business dress outfit back in place. We returned to the front seat, me with a smile and Greg with a stunned look. Granted, he did smile at me a lot, but his eyes kept going down to my breasts. For fun, I wiggled my eyebrows and pulled my shirt away from my right breast, baring it. We drove almost all the way back to the dealership with my right nipple exposed and Greg rather intensely focused. I pulled the Suburban back up to the curb and then tucked my breast back into my chevron shirt. Greg blinked, as if he was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings.

“So do you like the car?” he asked with a grin. “Does it meet your needs?”

I laughed. “Not as much as the salesman does. Is he an available option?” I asked.

There was a long pause. “He might be.”

I looked up at Greg. His eyes were intense and he was staring at me. I blushed.

I swallowed. “Do you have a business card? I have a couple of other SUV’s to test drive,” I replied without thinking. Greg’s eyes widened and then his expression darkened. I realized what I had said.

“Oh! No! Not like that! I was test driving YOU at that point. Not the SUV.” I blushed again, more than a little embarrassed by my slip up. Greg seemed to relax and pulled out a business card. A pen clicked and he quickly wrote something on the back. He handed it to me and I saw a phone number.

“That’s my personal cell phone. I’d love to hear from you. Maybe do dinner some time?” he asked. I smiled and tucked the card into my purse.

We said goodbye and I gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting back into my truck. I’m not sure I’m going to call him, but he seemed to be on the level and a really nice guy. I put my truck into gear and rolled on.

Gas Station - Special Person: Soft Drink Delivery Guy

I pulled into the next gas station I passed, not because I needed a fuck, but because I needed gas. I know. That’s a surprise, isn’t it? So after filling up the pickup, I grabbed my bag and headed inside. Of course, the soft drink delivery guy was not there, and only two clerks were manning the register. I hung around for a bit, waiting for a decent customer but no one came into the store that met that requirement. I thought about trying to seduce one of the clerks into the bathroom for a quick suck or fuck, but they seemed rather business like and I was pretty sure the older one was either a supervisor or a manager. With a sigh I headed off to the back of the store and went into the ladies room. It was empty except for me, so I had my pick of stalls. Once I was sitting, I extracted the vibroballs and hung them on the door hook. Talk about silly!

Getting out my Core Driller was easy enough, and it slid in nicely thanks to all the lubrication I had just recently expressed, but to be honest, it took me almost twenty minutes, and some pretty serious flicking, pinching, and rubbing before I was able to push my body into an orgasmic response. It wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as fucking Greg, but it still felt good. It wasn’t until I was at the sink, already enduring the vibrations of the vibroballs again, washing the Core Driller, when I realized that I was supposed to wear the Clover clamps if I had to masturbate instead of fuck or suck. With a deep breath I pulled them out, holding the two clamps and their connecting chain up.

The nice thing about the Chevron shirt is that it doesn’t pull tight UNDER my breasts. Instead it’s a little open air with the point facing downward. Staring at myself in the mirror, I popped the shirt off my left breasts and delicately placed the pincer of the clamp on the nipple. It tightened, sending a sharp sensation through me. Pain laced through my breast, spiraling downward toward my sex. I recovered my breast, not that it made much difference. The rather clear outline of the clamp was easily visible through the material and the chain dangled down across my bared belly. I lifted the other clamp, lightening the load on my left breast and I exposed the other side of my chest. In short order I was clamped there too, the hanging chain providing weight and a visually intriguing accessory to my outfit. The shirt wasn’t long enough to hide the chain swinging across my belly between my breasts, though the clamps and a little bit of the chain right in the middle was concealed. My nipples hurt, quite a distraction I admit, and I felt my pussy contracting around the shaking trembling vibroballs.




I know it says something about me personally, but when I walked out of that restroom, I was already wet and wanting to fuck again. Does that make me some sort of sex addict? Does it mean I’m sick? Soft in the head? Or does it just mean that “nympho humiliation pain slut” is the perfect title for someone like me?

I did get quite a look from the younger of the two clerks who saw the chain and had absolutely no trouble figuring out what the chain was dangling from and how. I gave him one of my million watt please take me to the bathroom and fuck me up the ass while your partner screws my pussy and pull on this chain hard smiles.

Too bad I had already earned my one point.

Movie Theatre - Special Person: Ticket Taker

Just a bit further down the road is one of those multi-screen stadium seating theatres and it was relatively easy to drop in there and scope the place out. Sunday afternoon wasn’t packed, but the theatre was still doing business. Lots of people going to see the summer movies. In fact, I had just gone to see Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides a few days before with Becca. Good movie. Not quite as awesome as the first one but way better than two and three. Trust me. Jack Sparrow could do me in a heartbeat and he wouldn’t have to mistake a Spanish Convent for a brothel to find me either.

Master Brandon had stated that I my special person was the ticket taker. This posed something of a problem. First of all, I didn’t have a ticket. Second, the ticket taker appeared quite busy. Third, well… she was young, pretty, and barely legal. And by barely I mean that if I were hiring her to pose for nude pictures she’d have to wait a year.

But the age of consent in the grand State of Texas is seventeen and I’ll be totally honest. Amber looked delectable. She was this willowy blond with dark streaks in her hair, a bit too much eye liner, and these full pouty lips. Her hips and breasts were still pretty small, she hadn’t filled out much yet, but I could tell she would. She also had this innocence about her that I found immediately attractive. Ever seen a butterfly about to emerge from its chrysalis? That’s the feeling I got when looking at Amber.

I struck up a conversation with her and after ten minutes we were giggling together like school girls. This was interspersed occasionally with her taking someone’s ticket and directing them to the appropriate theatre, which she did very well. It only took her about ten minutes to summon the nerve to ask about the obvious part of my attire that was drawing attention.



“They’re nipple clamps,” I whispered conspiratorially. Her eyes widened.

“Oh my God! Don’t they, like, you know, hurt?” she asked.

I laughed and nodded. “A little, but it feels good to me. I like it. Of course I’m stuffed with vibroballs too.” I reached into the waist band of my skirt and extracted the remote control, complete with wire disappearing into my clothing. I stepped a bit closer and turned up the vibroballs to high so she could hear the buzzing. I shuddered a bit from the sensation as she watched, mouth a bit open.

“Why are you wearing them?” she asked, intently curious. I smiled at her. “I have to. I can’t take the clamps off or turn off the balls until I make someone cum.”

Her eyes widened and she suddenly looked around the lobby of the theatre. It was so cute. She didn’t even consider herself when looking for potential partners for me.

“You mean you have to seduce someone?” she asked, still astonished. Apparently this was rather new to her. I grinned and nodded again.

“So like, who are you going to chose?” she asked, once more looking around. Her eyes lingered on the two guys running the concession stand and then on a few of the customers. I gave her a warm smile and a very intense stare.

“I chose her awhile ago, Amber.”

It took a moment but finally the gears turned all around in there and the color drained from her face. Her eyes widened even more and she swallowed.

“Me?”

I nodded.

“Why me?” she squeaked.

I leaned in closer. “Because I want to taste you and make you cum.”

“But… but… I’m not…” she stammered, clearly disturbed.

“See if you can get relieved and meet me at the restroom,” I said authoritatively and walked away. Now everything rested with Amber. Would she come? Would she cum? I certainly hoped so! But everything was now up to her. I crossed to the other side of lobby and disappeared into the lounge in front of the restrooms.

I waited. And I waited. But it was less than fifteen minutes before Amber appeared. She saw me, eyes wide, trembling slightly. I grinned and stood up, my hand outstretched and she took it. I started for the restroom, but she shook her head, put a finger to her lips, and then led me to a door marked “employees only”. Moments later we were in the bowels of the theatre, hurrying down a well lit hallway. At almost a run we took a turn and then Amber was pulling me up a stairway. To my surprise I found myself on a second story. There were several small rooms, each containing a projector. Amber put a finger to her lips, and I understood. Be quiet. I followed her down another small hallway and then she opened the door at the end. We entered and she flipped on the light after the door closed.

Boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. Amber grinned at me.

“This is where we store the marketing stuff and reels. I looked down at one of the labels. It was for something called Dr. Wiggins’ Market. Never heard of it. Oh well. I turned back to Amber who was standing there, clearly unsure of what to do or how to do it. I took a step forward, lifted my hands, and cupped her face. She stiffened a bit at the touch, but as I leaned forward and kissed her, she seemed to melt a bit, leaning into my body as our lips melded. My fingers slid down her neck and over her shoulders and down her sides. No sense in taking it too quickly, right?

I bent my head and touched my lips to her jaw and then nibbled my way back as she tilted her head upward. I kissed her exposed neck and felt her shiver under my touch. With my hands around her waist, I pulled up the silly black polo shirt she was wearing and ran my fingers against the skin of her sides. She let out another gasp as I caressed her. She tasted like strawberries and cream and it took me a moment that I her hair was scented like something fruity. I totally agree with that. Women should ALWAYS smell like something sweet and fruity and delicious.

Amber finally touched me, putting her hands on my sides. It felt amazing. Her soft inexperienced hands moved up, encountered the chain, and didn’t know where to go next. I pulled my face away from her and then touched her hands with mine. I brought her finger tips up to my breasts and then helped her to grasp the shirt material and pull it, exposing both clamped breasts.

She let out a low whimper and reached up, clearly intending to remove the clamps. I stopped, her catching her fingers just in time.

“No!” I whispered. “Don’t take them off. Pull on them!” I begged. Her eyes widened and she grabbed the chain. One single gentle tug was enough to almost make me swoon and I reached out to her and lifted the polo shirt upward.

She was wearing a white cotton bra which in moments was fully exposed as she helped me pull the polo over her head. It was tossed to the side and then our hands were together, behind her back, working to release the clasp. Then we stood as the material fell, breast to breast, the steel coldness of the clover clamps the only thing between us. I reached down and began unbuttoning her pants and she let me. Pink panties with little purple hearts… how adorable! I tugged her panties down as well. She resisted just a little, pressing her thighs together. But a little pressure from me and in moments she was sitting on one box with me kneeling in front of her. I gently spread her legs. She tried to close them again, but my mouth left little hot kisses on her skin from the knee all the way up and as my mouth got closer and closer to her pussy she opened up more and more. Finally I was there. She didn’t shave but that didn’t bother me. What little hair she had by her petals was light and not in my way. My tongue darted out and she gasped as it hit her clit. Her fingers entwined in my hair and I gave her a slow circle of my tongue, thoroughly licking that tiny nub of sensitivity that I know so well.

I wished I could have taken my time. I would have loved to tie Amber to my bed and use my mouth on her for hours, alternating it with a vibrator and ice and hot wax and oil and so many other things. But I didn’t have hours, and neither did she. So I used my tongue and then my fingers. Imagine my surprise when I stuck two fingers into her body and found…

Holy Shit. A virgin.

I pulled back out and sucked my fingers clean. She tasted a bit like soap and delicate girl and I wrestled with myself on this one. God did I want to take her so bad! She was literally naked except for her socks, head tilted back, perfect little breasts popping outward, hips churning, wanting, desperate, needing, innocent. I needed to make her cum so I went back to sucking on her clit.

And she did cum. She came and cummed. A generous squirt of juice splattered my face as she exploded and she let out a quiet cry of absolute abandon. Her chest heaved and I saw her face flushed and passionate. Talk about a conquest! My own pussy was quivering and I knew that I was practically ready to fuck just about anything that moved. Slowly she recovered and I got hold of myself. She straightened up and finally looked at me, a dazed expression on her face.

“That was….” Her voice trailed off.

“Wonderful.” I bent down and picked up her bra and held it out. She took it gratefully, realizing that time was short. She hurried back into her clothes and then turned to face me.

“Can I take those clamps off you now?” she asked. I nodded. Her fingers reached up and pinched the little jaws open and I winced as the blood rushed back into my crushed nipples. I let out a little whimper and then she handed the clamps ot me. Oh god… I was almost too much.

She covered my breasts back up and then we hurried back downstairs, back through the hall where she gave me a deep rapid crushing kiss and hug before walking back out to the ticket station.

I went to the bathroom, jacked the vibroballs to maximum, and rubbed my fingers against my clit until I came, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Desperate people do desperate things.

Amber? We spoke. We traded phone numbers. I’m taking her out next Saturday. She has no clue what’s coming either. She won’t be a virgin when I’m done with her, trust me!
A Government Office of some kind - Special Person: Government Employee

Did you know that most government offices are not open on Sunday? Yeah, I did too. But for that matter, most government offices aren’t open on Saturday either, so berating myself for not doing it the day before wasn’t really an option. I guess I should take Master Brandon to task for such a difficult task. I must have driven around for forty minutes after leaving the movie theater looking for an OPEN government office before I found one, and the one I found was NOT the kind of place you want to be asking guys if they’d like to be sucked or fucked.

No, I wasn’t at a prison. But I might as well have been. Of course at prison you’ve got two types of guys. One type wants it but can’t have it. The other type wants it but shouldn’t have it. Nothing worse than being the loot in a state level game of cops and robbers.

It’s always been a fantasy of mine though… to get arrested by a police officer, physically and completely searched – preferably strip and body cavity type – forced to put on a prison jump suit, but with certain cuts made to certain parts, locked in solitary confinement where officer after officer came in to interrogate me about some crime, touching me, fucking me, making me suck them over and over. Handcuffed. I want to get fucked with someone’s baton, their flashlight, hell… what would it feel like to have my pussy pepper sprayed? Would it hurt? I want a cop with an old fashioned weighted sap, standing over me, bringing the leather paddle down right between my legs, or maybe across my breasts. Am I sick? Am I demented? Or am I just a nympho humiliation pain slut?

Or maybe at the very end, they take me to my new prison cell, and make a slight mistake. I’m pushed through the door and find myself in a large room, with 24 prisoners, all looking at me, all male. The gang bang only takes two minutes to start and doesn’t stop…

Okay… I’m good. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts!

Of course, walking around dressed like I was in the police station is not real smart either. Everyone probably thought I was a hooker. I mean, I was sorta dressed like one. Thank God I didn’t have the nipple clamps on. They were safely in my bag.

I admit, I did toy around with the idea of asking a cop to screw my brains out. But most cops are honorable guys, and unless you get them out of uniform and with a beer, cops are, in general, too good to corrupt that way. Even by free nooky. They even have a term for it – girls calling the cops to get a nice burly guy to come fuck them: fender licker calls.

So rather than risk getting arrested for soliciting sex I decided that I could handle another masturbation session with the Core Driller. I made my way to the women’s restroom and proceeded to use one of the stalls to do a rather complete and through self-fucking. The place was empty, right up to the moment when I was getting ready to cum. The door opened and I clenched my teeth together and struggled to keep things quiet. I stopped the pounding thrusts and just gently and slowly pushed the Core Driller in and out.

The woman who came in choose the stall next to mine. Worse, she wasn’t wearing heels like me, she was wearing a set of rather comfortable but serviceable black sneakers and I could see the hem line of her black pants. It took her a while to get set up too and I knew… there was a cop next to me.

Have you ever fucked yourself with a dildo? It’s not exactly super quiet. So I had to practically STOP, which was not cool. I tried to find a decent balance point between keeping myself sexually stimulated (so I wouldn’t loose my place) and not make more noise than any decent person would in a stall. I pumped slowly, felt the orgasm coming, tried to stop and then practically bit my tongue while my body reacted to the sweet stimulation and the feeling of having a twelve inch long, four inch thick, black rubber, rocket ship shaped cock shoved through me. I know I made SOME noise but I’m guessing from the lack of response that all Ms Police Officer was thinking was “what the hell is she crapping over there?”

With a deep and somewhat silent sigh, I pulled out the Core Driller and set it aside on the handrail above the toilet paper dispenser. Then I fished out my ben wa balls and inserted them, but didn’t turn them on. Are you kidding me? She would have heard it in a heartbeat in that restroom. Then I waited for her to finish and leave so I could go wash the Core Driller and put on the nipple clamps. And I waited. I got impatient and with a little clinking got out my clover clamps and put them on, wincing and gritting my teeth, breath held as I tried to stay as silent as possible. I think I let out a few grunts or groans, but hey… I could have just eaten a Chili Dog at James Coney Island.

Finally I got impatient. Ms. Police Officer evidently HAD eaten a chili dog at James Coney Island because she was spending an awful long time on the john for someone who wasn’t trying to masturbate quietly with a 12 inch long black rubber dildo. So I stood up, smoothed out my skirt, grabbed my purse and the dildo, and opened the stall door. A quick peek confirmed that someone was in one of the other three stalls, but no one was at the vanity. So I quickly went to the sink and began washing the Core Driller. I figured if Ms Chili Dog finished, I’d hear her getting her gear back in place LONG before my handling a 12 inch long dildo would be an issue.

However, it never occurred to me, and it should have, that ANOTHER police woman could walk through the door at any moment.

So imagine my surprise when the door swung open and in walked the female version of Wyatt Earp. I was half bent over the sink, cleaning with soap and water, what was OBVIOUSLY a 12 inch long black rubber dildo. Had I not been wearing a guilty expression of “oh shit” on my face, I might have gotten away with it. As it was, the first thing out of her mouth was “what the hell?”

I flushed crimson. “Uh… Just finishing!” I muttered and quickly turned away, hiding the dildo from sight. I made a few steps toward the paper towel dispenser.

“What the hell is that?” she demanded. “Hey. Turn around. Now.” The tone of voice she used made it clear that we were no longer “women who are all in the bathroom,” but “police woman and potential suspect”.

Of course that tone caused Ms. Chili Dog to rapidly finish up and start getting her gear into place even as I slowly and cautiously turned toward the second officer. She was blond, French braid, exactly what you’d expect. Her vest did unpleasant things to her figure, but she could have been cute. I have no clue. I don’t date female police officers, though maybe I should. If I’m ever going to have a shot at my fantasy, even if it’s only part of it, I’ll need someone with the right gear, right? Anyway, her right hand was on her gun, but she hadn’t drawn it thank God. I was quaking in fear.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at my Core Driller. I held it up and it sort of flopped around a bit.

“Uh… It’s a model rocket ship.” I replied.

What? It IS! Have you seen it? It’s got little bumps and four stages and everything. Hell, paint it white and slap a NASA sticker on the damn thing and you could sell it in Wal-Mart for God’s sake!

There was a commotion behind me and the Officer Chili Dog came out looking a little grumpy.

“What’s going on? Oh… what the hell is that?”

“Oh my God. Is that a dildo?”

“Where you fucking that thing in here?”

How long is that thing?”

“You’re not serious…”

“No, I heard her! I thought she was just having digestive troubles. She must have been fucking herself with it.”

“What’s with the chain? Are those clamps? Shit!”

“Wow.”

“Disorderly conduct?”

“Nah. Public Lewdness?”

“Didn’t see it.”

“Jury wouldn’t like it.”

“Probably get thrown out by the D.A. No visuals, and you wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t been washing it in the sink.”

This is how the conversation went and I was definitely not a part of it. I did lower my hands though. Now I happen to be a college graduate and my degree is in criminal justice. To be honest, I was much more worried about the public lewdness issue. There was a case there. It wasn’t a great one, but these two officers COULD arrest me for public lewdness.

“Let me see that,” the second police officer said. Officer Chili Dog stepped closer. She was a heavier brunette, a bit older than the first. I held out the dildo and she took it, swing it like a baton.

“My god that thing is huge,” the blond asked.

“You don’t really get this whole thing up in there do you?” I was asked.

I was already rather embarrassed and wished they would just let me go. But technically I was still under “detention” and I knew it. I swallowed and nodded. “Yes ma’am, I can get it all in,” I replied.

“Seriously? All the way?” she asked.

I nodded. Officer Chili Dog laughed with disbelief. “I sure would love to see that!”

The conversation stopped suddenly. The blond police officer looked over at the brunette and I just sort of stood there. Things had gotten… uncomfortable.

Officer Chili Dog turned toward the other officer. “Jan, I’ll handle this one, okay?”



The blond looked at both of us and then gave this sort of rueful smile. “Sure. I got a report to write anyway. Don’t take too long though.” She turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

I blinked and the words What The Fuck appeared in glowing flashing lights above my head.

I turned toward the other woman and said intelligently, “uhhhh….”

She laughed. “You’re not under arrest, and you’re free to go. But if you are willing, I’d absolutely love to see that thing fit inside you.” She pointed back toward the stall I had just vacated.

Well gosh, that’s just not an opportunity you get every day, is it? I mean how often does a lesbian cop ask you to masturbate for her? Not very often. So I took a deep breath, nodded my agreement, and went back into the stall. Officer Chili Dog followed and leaned up against the wall as I turned and faced her.

“Are those clamps on your nipples? She asked. I nodded.

“Don’t suppose you’d mind showing me? Should be easy enough,” Officer Chili Dog asked. I took a deep breath and popped both breasts out of the shirt, exposing the tight crushed nipples, both locked within the powerful bite of the clover clamps. The police woman smiled, staring at my breasts.

“Well, go ahead. I want to see that thing go in there.” She waved her hand, hurrying me a long.

I sat down on the toilet a second time and lifted my skirt, spreading my legs. Of course not wearing panties makes it much easier to get to your pussy and I heard a muttered “should have guessed” from the police woman. Then I reached down and extracted the vibro balls.

Officer Chili Dog came off the wall and took two steps forward. “What the hell are those? My god, are you some sort of slut?”

My reply was automatic and out of mouth before even thinking about it. “I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut,” I said.

She grunted as I put aside the vibroballs and took the remote out of my waist band. I grabbed the Core Driller from where it was sitting, wedged between the wall and the handicap hand rail. The vibroballs got set down on the toilet paper dispenser and I brought the Core Driller down between my legs.

She watched every second and even got closer to get the nitty gritty. I worked it in, partially turned on from the absolute worst humiliation of the day not to mention the fact that I was still scared of going to jail. Sure, I could call Kari, but I’m not even willing to IMAGINE the punishment I’d earn for THAT. I’d be lucky if I’d even be able to WALK for a few days.
I did manage to work the Core Driller in rather deeply and quickly thanks to the clamps, circumstances, and the fact that I was still pretty well soaked. Officer Chili Dog watched the whole thing and when I was deep in the throes of ecstasy, legs spread, breasts clamped, not even bothering to keep my voice down or try to hide my noises, the police officer came up to me, grabbed the Core Driller, and rammed it several time into me for herself, making sure that all 12 inches was fully embedded. I groaned and she grabbed the chain between the clamps and pulled nicely. I popped immediately.

“Nicely done,” she said, complimenting me. “Just don’t do it at the police station again, okay?”

I nodded as she stepped out of the stall and left the bathroom. I repeated the process I had done just a bit before. I pulled out the Core Driller, replaced it with the vibroballs, and then cleaned the Core Driller in the sink. I’m going to admit it. I was sore. It was also getting late and I was getting hungry. I got everything tucked away (either inside me) or in the bag. Then I stepped out of the bathroom.

To my surprise, there was an out of order sign on the door. That hadn’t been there before and the only thing I can surmise is that the blond cop put it there. I headed for the entrance and the safety of my truck. But as I was walking out, I saw Officer Chili Dog and in a sudden flash of brilliant inspiration, I approached her. She was talking with someone and I waited politely until they were finished. Then she turned to me, face wary, but very professional.

“Can I help you miss?” she asked.

“Can I get your name and badge number?” I asked.

That wariness in her eyes suddenly turned to major concern and she put her hand on her belt. The leather creaked under the stress of her grip.

“And why do you need that?” she asked.

I stepped closer to make sure no one could possibly over hear me.

“Because I like being in handcuffs, and would love to be searched properly.”

That look of wariness flashed into surprise and then became a smile. She fished a business card out of her pocket and grabbed her pen, scribbling something on the back.

“Don’t call 911 to talk to me, sweetheart. Call my cell phone.”

She handed me the card and walked away. I still have it. I haven’t called the police yet. But I’m planning on it. Fantasy… here I come!

As I left I realized that despite two masturbations and the clear involvement of a government official, I still hadn’t earned more than a single point. Damn. I wish I could have fucked her!

Comic Book Store - Special Person: Any geek

I went looking for a comic book store at that point and to my dismay, people don’t buy comic books on Sunday. Surprise surprise. Every store I looked up and went to was CLOSED! How’s that for crappy? So I went to an upscale large book store, figuring… gosh, they’d have comic books, right? Well they do. But evidently comic book people really don’t buy them from Barnes & Nobel. Maybe it’s the selection. Beats me. But I hung around in the comic section, getting hungrier and hungrier as NO ONE came up and even LOOKED at the comic book stuff. Or was it called “graphic novels?” Whatever. By that time I would gladdly have screwed just about anyone who showed up. Qualifiers? “Have you ever read a Batman comic book?” would have been enough. As it was the combination of the vibroballs, nipple clamps, and hunger motivated me to go find an appetizer for dinner.

That appetizer came in the form of a good looking guy I picked up in the music section. He was not a geek. Definitely not a geek. Sorry. I did LOOK for a geek, but I was in a preppy part of town and the store employees were starting to give me looks. I mean, I was hanging around wearing a shirt that revealed some questionable personal jewelry and didn’t do much to conceal or obscure HOW the chain was hanging.

When I approached Jessie, this rather dashing college aged guy with a mop of curly brown hair, he seemed a bit shy. But it didn’t take long for my particular brand of charm to put him at ease and soon we were laughing together. I had my hands on him a few minutes later. When I told him I wanted to take him to the bathroom and suck his cock, his only reaction was surprise and then a quick nod.

I’m going to admit, I’m tired of fucking in bathrooms. The problem with these “fuck in public” assignments is that if you don’t want to get arrested, where else do you even get a smidgen of privacy, right? I mean, was I just going to whip out his dick right there in the computer software section? Should I have taken him over to the café? Or how about the customer service desk? Hell, there’s a fucking STAGE in the children’s area. How about that?

Exactly. No good place. So it was back to the bathrooms.

I was just ready to move on so I did Jessie pretty quick. We weren’t interrupted either, which was rather nice. I’ve had bathroom sucks before where it was either me suck EVERYONE or meeting a nice police officer.

Jessie’s cock wasn’t anything special, but it was decent in size and frankly, I would have loved to fuck him. But I was worried about doing it in the restroom like that. It would have taken twice or three times as long and in the end, my concern over the time and exposure was more pressing that the buzzing of the vibroballs and the pinch of the clamps. Besides, I got to take the clover clamps off the moment we finished, and trust me, after I swallowed his cum, I took those clamps of with relief.

Jessie, who thought I was the best girl who ever lived, asked me out for dinner and in the interest of my pocket book and time, I agreed. It was already after six and we had a really nice one hour dinner. We left my truck at the book store and went in his Sentra. Nice car actually. I got to see a lot of it. Even the back seat.

Large Parking Lot - Special Person: Security Guard

After dinner we played a new game. It was called “Do As I Say”. Jessie, who was reacting quite well to the fact that my hand was literally down the front of his pants, took my directions in stride. When we pulled back into the parking lot of the bookstore, I had him pull into a parking spot well out of the way of the other cars, in a back corner, where it would be easy to see an approaching car. I pulled my hand out of his pants and then told him to wait there for a moment.

It was already dark outside and I got out of the car. Then I got in the back seat. The first thing I did was untie my shirt. Bare breasted, I then worked my skirt down. Jessie watched, astonished from the front seat. I laid both articles of clothing on the seat back and then made a simple “come hither” gesture with one finger. In seconds Jessie was out of the car and jumping into the back seat.

Well, it wasn’t a suburban, let me tell you that. But it wasn’t bad either. Jessie was intrigued by the vibroballs and spent several minutes playing around with the settings before finally pulling them out and letting me straddle his lap. I slid downward, impaling myself on his cock, feeling his muscular thighs underneath me as his mouth came down on my nipples, sucking and licking and tasting me. Sometimes, it’s a good thing to be a delicacy. We moved gently and as far as vanilla sex goes, it was rather nice.

His strong hands caressed me, my breasts, my arms, my shoulders, my back, and then came to rest on my bottom, squeezing me even as I rocked my hips, his cock gliding through me like a well oiled machine. It was so much better than the Core Driller, so much better than the vibroballs. It was real, live, blood engorged cock. And it was inside me.

I came first, a relief from the tension and torture I had endured all through dinner and frankly, since I had masturbated a second time in front of that police officer. I’m not usually so voracious, but being put on display, in a position of sexual torment, having to suck cock, well… all of it was just enough to make sure that I was ready to pop almost from the moment I got stuffed.

After I exploded it was Jessie’s turn and I worked my carnal magic until his calves tightened and he thrust once hard up into me, his fingers clutching my body. I brought my face down and kissed him as he exploded, our bodies melded together in a stupid car, sitting in a parking lot.

What a fucking waste.

Bar - Special Person: Bartender

Nine thirty found me pulling into one of our local bars, a country western place I’ve frequented in the past. Usually, it’s been a good spot to find a willing, mostly drunk, cowboy with a large cock and the willingness to use it and not remember what the hell happened the previous night. That’s always good when you aren’t looking for a relationship. You have to be careful with cowboys. They tend to become possessive and the last thing I needed was a brand on my ass and fist fights over who would get to fuck me repeatedly.

I grabbed a hat from behind the seat of my truck. The rest of my attire, while not country, wouldn’t be terribly out of place unless I tried to line dance (I don’t line dance by the way. Don’t ask me. I’m terrible at it.) So in a mixture of country and contemporary, I waltzed in to the bar and looked for the bar tender.

Not a chance in hell. He was too busy. The likelihood that I would be able to either suck or fuck the bartender was about as good as me winning the lottery or flying to India in order for Avishkar Ghule to fuck me tomorrow morning. So with a sigh of disappointment I turned away from the bar and began looking for the right guy.

The right guy showed up a few moments later. I wasn’t picky. Typical cowboy. Blue jeans, dark skin, stubble of a beard, button up oxford, boots. He smelled like horses too and had already had a few too many. It wasn’t hard to convince him to follow me into a corner and have a seat behind a table. I saw next to him and let him do some rather rough touching before I slipped a hand into his lap and worked his jeans open. It took a bit of work to get his cock hard, which rather sucked, but we finally got there. Then I slid under the table and sucked and sucked.

He groaned. He moaned. He slammed his fist on the table top. I grabbed my hair. He made some rather loud comments. Thank God NO ONE paid any attention whatsoever. He was groaning loudly as I stroked his balls and then he popped without warning, a quick sudden spurt that literally caught me unprepared and sent a splatter of cum across my face and down my bare shoulder. I blinked, shaking my head, but then suddenly he stood up, cock hanging out, as he stumbled out onto the dance floor.

OMG.

I kind of left then as a number of the other guys corralled him and made him put his package away. I was already heading out the door as he pointed back to the table and told them there was this girl sucking his cock and she’d do everyone. Yeah… not cool. I took a deep breath. It was late, going on eleven o’clock and way past my bed time. I got in my truck, slipped the vibroballs back in and set them on low. I still had one more location to do and it was a doozy.

Your Living Room - Special Person: Your dad.

To my surprise, there were lights on when I pulled up to the house. I let out a rather disgruntled snarl since it meant I had to change out of my shirt and skirt into my denim shorts and tee shirt before going in. I did it quickly and with my cum splattered shirt and skirt under my arm, I went inside.

Like the previous night, it was my father who was sitting in the living room. The History Channel was on and he was deeply engrossed in some Vietnam Show. I waved at him when I came in.

“What are you doing still up, Dad?” I asked. I might have been a bit surly toward him. The living room was the last place I needed to do “something sexual” in. My plan had been to masturbate there with the Core Driller.

He smiled. “Oh, just really wanted to see this show. You’re home late.”

I shrugged. “Been out and about.”

“I’m sure,” He replied.

How… uncomfortable. I bit my lip and then told him good night. After climbing the stairs I retreated to my bedroom, tossed my dirty clothes in the laundry and then headed to the bathroom. A quick shower was exactly what I needed and I came out feeling refreshed and ready for anything. I tucked the vibroballs back in, but I didn’t turn them on. Instead I set my cell phone alarm to wake me later, around one thirty in the morning. My dad would be in bed and asleep by then and I could finish.

A few hours later I woke to the sound of my cell phone alarm and quietly got out of bed. I was wearing a nightgown and I stripped off my panties and took out the vibroballs. Then as quietly as I could, I grabbed my Core Driller dildo and my small bottle of grapeseed oil and headed downstairs. Everything was dark and quiet and I left the lights off as I settled down on the couch. A moment later I had one leg up on the arm rest and the other spread wide. A thin coating of oil lubricated the tip of the Core Driller and I tugged up my nightgown, exposing my shaven slit. The tip of the dildo slipped through me rather nicely, catching only slightly on my opening. Of course, the next slide through my pussy dipped the tip inward, and thus back and forth, I slowly but surely worked myself up into a chest heaving frenzy. Finally I slid the Core Driller in, feeling it open me, spreading me, fucking me, impaling me. I drew it back out and plunged it in again. My eyes were closed and I whimpered softly, totally caught up in the abandon of sexual gratification. I knew masturbating would only get me one single point, but I didn't care, and there are some things you just shouldn’t and can’t do, right? I fucked myself stupid with that giant toy, and I was so close...

The lights flipped on and I opened my eyes to see my father staring down at me. I dropped the dildo and closed my legs, hurriedly pulling my night gown down. I could tell that he had seen everything: the huge black rubber dildo sliding in and out of me, my spread loins, my moaning ecstasy filled face, all of it. My face was scarlet and I admit I felt a flash of fear. Oh my fucking god. What would he say? What would he do? He just stood there, his cane in one hand, staring down at me. I shrank back into the cushions, the Core Driller digging into my thigh. I wasn't about to move to keep it from poking me.

My father limped across to the easy chair and sat down. His withered right leg was bent at a slightly wrong angle and I felt a flash of anger at what life had done to my dad. He took a deep breath, eyes still on me, pinning me to the couch. His fingers folded together and he licked his lips.

"Gotta tell you, Breanne," he paused. "I'm really enjoying the blog. N.H.P.S. huh? Fascinating reading though."

The sinking feeling I had been harboring in my gullet suddenly turned to lead and iron and then plunged through my intestines, tearing me to shreds. My heart thumped painful against my chest.

"It's good to know about Kari, though. I always thought something was going on between the two of you. Granted, didn't think it was THAT, but your mom kept saying ya'll were just friends."

I swallowed hard. Oh my GOD. My DAD has been reading Michael's BLOG! He’s been reading my assignments? Holy SHIT!

"Does Mom know?" I croaked out, my entire body feeling like it had been body slammed into the wall. My life was over. Even now I’m still floored.

Dad shook his head. "Nope. She's not into the computer. I only found out by accident. Friend of mine emailed me a link since he knew I lived in Katy. Thought I'd get a kick out of reading about a local. Took me all of about five minutes to figure out it was you. I always thought you were a little dark."

My father was not reacting like I thought he would. "You don't mind?" I squeaked.

He glanced over at me? "Mind? That my kid is screwing her way from one side of Houston to the other on a daily basis?" He shook his head. "Ah... not really. You should have seen me back in the sixties with your Mom at college." He laughed. "Maybe one day I'll tell you about that party your mom and I went to."

Talk about uncomfortable. I shifted on the couch and the Core Driller prodded me again in the ass. Not cool. I took a deep breath. This changed things. IT HAS changed things. Everything in fact. My dad knows about me. And worse, he's okay with it. I guess I'm not the weirdest one in my family, am I.? I pulled the Core Driller out from under my ass and held it up. My Dad clearly saw it, wet with oil and my juices.

"Sorry I interrupted you. I thought you might be here tonight,” he said.

I rotated on the couch, tossing the Core Driller aside. My dad sat opposite me, in a tee shirt and his night shorts. He grinned at me. I smiled back.

"Dad?" I asked softly. He cocked one eyebrow.

"I've got a question to ask you." My voice faltered. I couldn't believe I was about to do this...

"A Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut question?"

I nodded. He smiled at me.

And I did. I asked it. Assignment finished.


Total Points: 161

* Update: Evidently I can't count worth a damn. Thanks DJ and Kittish... guess I deserve a punishment just for that...

Assignment 06/15/11: Another Scavenger Hunt

Another Scavenger Hunt

06/15/11

Saturday morning started normally. Well... now that I think about it, maybe I should amend that statement. Saturday morning started normally for me. Basically it involved getting up, stripping out of my pajamas, laying out something to go take care of the critters in, and making sure I was nice and stuffed. Stuffed meaning having a sex toy up inside me. I had received the email the night before, so it wasn't like I was surprised or anything. All I felt was a fluttering in my stomach, a sort of nervousness that comes when you KNOW you're going to be doing something that will embarrass you, humiliate you, and probably have you cumming as well. Of course that combined with the rolling sensation of the ben wa balls, two small golf ball sized spheres that were, at that moment, shifting and rolling around inside my pussy with every step. I chucked on some clothes, went downstairs and out to the barn. Then I did my chores. Sure, the ben wa balls were tickling my insides, but that just kept me wet and ready.

Breakfast came and went and finally I was able to take my leave gracefully from the kitchen table. Everything I needed was already packed up and in a bag. Mostly it was clothes. I could hardly walk out past my parents in the "required" outfit. But there were a few other tangibles included. I managed to get out to my truck, still wet and a little bothered, and headed off to do my "scavenger hunt".

The first stop was the side of the road however. Since I was wearing shorts, a tee shirt, bra and panties (and of course the ben wa balls), I needed to dress more appropriately for what Master Brandon had assigned me. So at the front of the truck I tugged off my shirt and bra, folded them neatly, and set them aside. I COULD have put on the tee shirt I had brought, but that's not how stripping works. You have to get completely undressed before you put anything else on. That's the rule. So with bared breasts I pushed down my shorts and panties and then began to slip into the new outfit.

The shirt was too tight, but I expected that. It was too thin too, thanks to me having worn it frequently during my freshman and sophomore years of college. It was a light pink, slowly fading to white, with the words "Porn Princess" emblazoned across the front. I'm not sure what that means. Does it mean I STAR in porn? Does it mean I spend a lot of time looking at Porn? Does it mean I WRITE porn? Hmmm... whatever. The shirt squeezed my breasts together and frankly I looked like one of those rolled sausages. Thank God I don't have love handles. As it was, the low collar on the tee shirt revealed enough cleavage to keep the eyes locked in certain spots. I tried not to take deep breaths. I didn't want the shirt splitting on me.

The denim skirt was my shortest one, but still semi-respectable. Sure, had I done jumping jacks I would have been in trouble. Thank God jumping jacks weren't on the list of Things To Do! So now dressed, properly in flip flops, skirt, tight embarrassing tee shirt, sans panties and stuffed with my ben wa balls, I got back in the truck and got out my list.

First of all, I knew I was going to have to really think this one through. Actually make a plan. If I just went down the list I could end up having some issues. Then there was the fact that a couple of Master Brandon's scavenger hunt "special person" suggestions were... well... kind of inappropriate.

Seducing a preacher? Did he want me to go to hell?

Oh wait... maybe that might get me to heaven...

Or maybe Meatloaf was right. "Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go anywhere."

What? Yes... I like some of Meatloaf's music. Bite me.

1. Public Park - Special Person: Jogger.

Where was I? Oh yes... on the road deciding where to go first. It was still early Saturday morning and while I had a few available options, I wanted things to be a little quieter. Morning in Texas is about the only time you can really do anything outdoors unless you're a sadistic weirdo, and not in the good sexual way. So I headed east and stopped off at one of my favorite parks. The morning air was still very humid and getting unpleasant quickly, but within a minute I saw several joggers who would fit the bill. Of course, I could have just found a nice park bench, lifted my skirt, and shoved in my Core Driller, but that would only have earned me one point and I had no idea what the "reward" would be for having a low number of points. So I decided that if I was going to do this, I'd try to do it right.

Before I got out of the truck, I pulled my ben wa balls out and dropped them in an empty cup I had brought along for just that purpose. Soaked and horny, I left my perch and started walking down the concrete path, enjoying the serious eye fucks I was getting every time a jogger passed me. I was looking for the right one, as well as an appropriate spot, and found both about a quarter mile down the trail. It's right were the path curves from south to east and there is that branch, one of which leads to the forested area by the bayou and the bridge, while the other keeps on the north side of the Buffalo Bayou. There's also a maze of bike trails back in there and as Mr. Right jogged by, I gave him my million watt please come into the bushes and fuck my brains out smile.

He was five nine, really short dark hair, and about forty. He also had a wedding ring. Now, sometimes it's dangerous going after married guys, but frankly, for quick fucks, I think married guys are awesome. They just want the fuck and not a date. Of course occasionally you get one with morals, which granted is pretty rare, but happens. In my case, I did well. He slowed down as I smiled and when I said hello he actually stopped.

"Well hi yourself," he said easily to me. I watched as his pecs rippled under his shirt. Yummy.

"Think you can do me a favor?" I asked politely, cocking one hip toward him, lifting one foot to toe point, and arching my back a little to emphasize my breasts. Hey.. there's an art form to the come on!

"Anything, sweetheart," he replied easily enough. He had already caught his breath. Damn. I wish I was in that good of shape!

I cocked my head back toward the bushes. "Take me back there and fuck my brains out."

His eyes widened a bit and he looked over at the bushes, then me. "Seriously?" he asked.

I nodded. "Seriously." Then, because the nearest other jogger was WAY down the trail, I lifted my shirt and my breasts popped out. His eyes REALLY widened and he got this silly grin on his face. His hands came up and grabbed hold of both my breasts, giving the tips a judicious squeeze. I almost came right there.

"Oh yeah, bring it sweetheart."

I reached out and grabbed his hand as the jogger started getting much closer. I pulled my breasts free of his grip and then practically dragged him off the trail into a little clearing that was relatively private. Twenty feet away, the other jogger ran past without even glancing in our direction. In seconds my breasts were once more under assault, fingers pinching the nipples and I moaned, eyes closed, my pussy pulsing in desperation.

"Like that, do you?" he asked.

"Oh yes... harder... hurt me," I whispered. He did. He almost drove me to my knees he pinched my nipples so hard. My hand had found his cock though. His shorts were easy to slip off once I untied the drawstring and then my hand was stroking him. He was like granite... like steel, and then he bent down, replacing one set of fingers with his mouth as he suckled my nipple. Then he dragged me down to the grass, pushed me onto my back, and discovered that I wasn't wearing panties under my skirt.

I did manage to get a condom on him, but only barely, before he plunged into me with an aggressiveness I really liked. I wasn't just a girl... I was fuck meat. It wasn't about my pleasure. It was about his. He took me fast and hard and used me, and when he was done, stood over me, stripped off the condom and tossed it aside, then wiped his sperm coated cock on my tits and face. I sucked him clean, not because I wanted to, but because he didn't give me a choice. His fingers were wrapped in my hair and he just shoved his semi-rigid cock into my mouth.

When we were done he grinned, pulled his running shorts up, and then thanked me. Then with a wave he left me rumpled and sitting on my ass in the grass, legs spread and still smeared with my own juices. I was desperate to cum, but I slowly stood up, straightened my skirt, lowered my shirt to cover my breasts, and picked bits of grass out of my hair. Then I headed back to my truck. The hardest thing was putting the ben wa balls back in. I sat in my truck, the air conditioner on full blast, struggling to get a grip and not just masturbate to orgasm right there. Finally I got a hold of myself, and with one location and fifteen points down, I took off down the road to my next stop.


2. Fast Food Restaurant - Special Person: Manager

The next place I was pretty sure I wanted to tackle was either the fast food restaurant or the parking lot. As it was, I kept an eye out for an appropriate spot to stop at. The good news was that it was now late enough in the morning that the breakfast rush was somewhat over, especially on a Saturday. I pulled into a restaurant on Westheimer, one that I've been in before (but not had sex in), because their lot was mostly empty. Once again I removed the ben wa balls, which of course caused a resurgence of my earlier sexual difficulties. Then I went inside and cased the joint. There were two guests sitting in the dining area, munching on their breakfast tacos or whatever, while two or three people worked behind the counter. I was looking for the manager of course, and quickly found him by sight. He was the well dressed one in the back.

"Hello miss, can I help you?" asked the guy at the register. I backed off, waving my hand in front of my chest, which momentarily blocked his view. Trust me, he wasn't looking at my face.

I pretended to look at the menu while I considered my options. I could just buy a taco and Core Driller myself to orgasm in a booth. But the problem with that is that if I choose masturbation as my "activity" for this location, I had to go all the way. Full explosion. Kinda messy with the Core Driller and frankly, a little loud. It's not every girl that can take a 12 inch black rubber cock in the shape of a rocket ship and keep quiet while doing it. I certainly can't.

I stepped back up to the counter. "Can I please have a word with the manager?" I asked politely.

The clerk raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Jose? Girl here wants to talk to you!"

Jose the Manager came up to the counter, and clearly within ear shot of the clerk (who was STILL staring at my breasts) asked me if I needed help.

I nodded. "Can I speak with you privately please sir?" I begged.

The clerk lifted the eyebrow again and Jose shrugged. Then he came out from behind the counter as I moved toward a far wall, out of ear shot of the overly curious clerk.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, his Mexican accent sounding sweet and spicy all at the same time.

I lowered my lashes and once more positioned myself properly; hips askew, shoulder cocked, breasts pushed forward straining the material of my shirt, one foot arched and up on toe.

"Please, can you please take me into the back room and fuck me?" I asked through lowered lashes. I didn't look him in the eyes. I wanted demure, submissive, and fuckable to come across.

"What?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Please?" I begged again. "I just need your cock inside me."

His face darkened and I moderated my request. "Or a blowjob? Please? Can I at least suck your cock?" I begged. I took a step closer. He took my arm, but instead of leading me into the back, he propelled me toward the door. This was NOT going the way I expected. I whined a bit and then I was rapidly pushed outside.

"Now stay out!" he said loudly. But then he ducked his head. "Meet me around back." Then he gave me a soft but firm shove.

Blinking, I walked around the outside of the building toward the back. I had to detour around the fenced in dumpster, but finally I arrived at the back door. I waited three or four minutes before finally it cracked open and Jose the Manager appeared. His finger was on his lips, cautioning silence and then I was pulled into the cool interior. I found myself in a tight hallway that led to the kitchen. There was a small open door on the right, complete with window, and another door on my left. Jose opened the door to my left and pushed me into a dark room. He followed me inside and then snapped on a light when the door closed.

Of course, almost immediately after entering the room, I had pulled up my shirt, so when he flipped on the light a quick turn brought my bare breasts into view again. He locked the door and then approached, hands forward to grope me, which I not only allowed, but encouraged. His head came down and he found my nipples. While he sucked on me, his fingers found my skirt waist band and pushed, sending my denim to the floor. That's when things got more complicated. I got turned around and bent over group of boxes, my ass up in the air. Jose moved up behind me and started off by ramming his thumb into my pussy. Then he moved a bit higher and managed to get that same wet digit into my ass. This elicited quite a little coo out of me and I wiggled back. A few moments later the thumb was pulled out and Jose managed to slip a decent amount of chorizo up there instead.

Now when I say chorizo, I'm of course joking. It was actually cock, and not Mexican sausage. Well.. okay... it WAS Mexican sausage, but live Mexican sausage... oh ... shit. Never mind. You get the idea, right?

Now why on earth Jose decided to fuck me up the ass I'll never know, but since I was bent over the boxed and didn't really have a say in things anyway, I just let it be and took it up the ass like a good girl. He pumped for three or four minutes and then squirted a decent amount of sour cream into my rear end. My problem was that while he had a good time, I was still in terrible straits, desperate and needing a fuck like you wouldn't believe. Instead I got ass reamed and then told to get dressed and get out. It was rather brutal. I stood there at the back door, my eyes hurting from the bright sunlight, trying to figure out what to do next.


3. Adult Video Store - Special Person: Clerk

To be honest, I just started driving. That in and of itself was tough enough. Sitting there with my skirt practically up around my waist, my pussy stuffed with the ben wa balls and my ass still aching from the butt fuck was almost more than I could handle. I started looking around, looking for something on my list. I was hoping to see a drink truck delivery at a gas station, but in the end I passed one of those "Newsstands" that double for porn shops here in Houston. Desperate and willing to fuck anything, I tugged the ben wa balls out, shuddered, dropped them in the cup, and then proceeded into the shop.

What a weird place. I'd never been in there before and the main desk was in the center of the room and rather large. Sure, there was the typical "fake" magazine section up front, but then you went through a little doorway and got to peruse the outer wall of porn magazines and DVDs. Talk about crazy. Every moment you're being watched by the clerk too. Their arcade was actually to the side, but I didn't want in there. I walked up to the counter instead, looked at the young man working, who was rather cute, and put my arms on the counter top. Since the counter came to my chin, and that's while standing on tip toe, I still got to look up at the clerk.

"Would you be interested in either a blowjob or fucking me silly?" I asked politely. I was in a PORN shop. No need to dance around the subject, right?

He blinked. "I'm gay."

I'm absolutely sure my expression was one of profound dismay. Gay? Okay, I'm fine with that. I'm bi-sexual. But there was no fucking way I was going to leave that shop without cumming. I bit my lip and thought for a moment.

"Anyone in the arcade?" I asked, glancing at the side door.

He shook his head.

"Well, fuck. Do you mind if I masturbate then?" I asked.

"Seriously? Here?"

I reached into my bag and yanked out my Core Driller. "Absolutely. I'd let you watch if you want, not that you'd be interested."

He shrugged. "Go right ahead."

There was a rather uncomfortable wooden chair sat in one corner and I immediately went to it and sat down. It didn't take much to lift my panties up and expose my clit. A quick fishing trip in my bag produced the 12 inch Core Driller and then I immediately rammed it in. It didn't take much to drive me over the edge and the only disappointed I had was that I didn't have an audience during the whole thing. A Gay Guy... that's just fucking stupid! I quickly came, pulled out my Core Driller and stood up. My skirt fell down, covering my assets and I took four steps. That's when the clerk coughed and gave me a dirty look.




"Excuse me, you've made a mess of the chair," he said pointedly.

I glanced back at my seat. Sure enough there was a rather conspicuous wet spot on the wood, a few inches in diameter and most definitely a real puddle. I shrugged. "Sorry."

His face got a little dark. "That's not very polite of you. I didn't even complain when you fucked yourself here. The least you could do is clean it up."

I sighed. "Got a paper towel?" I asked.

He shook his head. "With your tongue."

My eyes widened slightly. "You're kidding."

That's when he pulled out the paddle. It was obviously a real BDSM paddle, the kind that costs thirty or forty bucks. It was black leather complete with little silver studs along the sides. I got a quirky and snotty look on my face. "For all you know, I may like that kind of thing," I replied.

He shrugged. "If you do, it means you'll be on your knees licking that chair clean with your skirt around your waist." He snapped the paddle against his palm.

Ah... decisions decisions, right?

So I went back to the chair, knelt down and began licking up my cum. My hands went down to my skirt and I slowly lifted it, pulling it up to my waist. I had my eyes closed so when the paddle hit me, I wasn't really prepared and it stung, bad. I hissed, almost cried, and kept licking. Two strokes, then three, then four. He didn't pause much between blows and I began licking faster. Finally, when my ass was smarting and I was literally ten or twelve strokes in, I felt like I had sufficiently cleaned the chair. My mouth was FULL of the taste of sex, salty and musky and even a tangy. My ass hurt like the dickens. I lifted my head and struggled upward to my feet as the clerk caught my ass one more time before the skirt covered it.

"You're almost enough to make me straight" he said with a grin.

I gave him a wry smile and opened my bag. I dumped the Core Driller into it and pulled out one of my business cards. "Let me know next time you and your boyfriend want a little female help for a trio." Then I walked away.

Damn my ass hurt!

4. Library - Special Person: Librarian


I drove east on Westheimer, keeping my eyes open for the appropriate opportunity. For almost the first time that morning the ben wa balls weren't a pressing issue for me. My orgasm and the spanking had been sufficient to knock most of the sexual urgency out of my life for the moment. Instead I concentrated on driving. I passed a number of gas stations, but I was really hoping to find one with a drink delivery guy at it, so I kept going. Of course I was heading toward the Galleria. There were all sorts of "locations" down in that neck of the woods and I almost missed one of them as I was driving past. A quick U-turn got me back into the correct parking lot and I pulled in to the rather crisp and sharp looking beige strip mall. My target was the comic book store and I went in with something akin to resignation. This was not my ideal concept of a good location for a masturbation, blowjob, or fuck.

And I was right. The first problem? Kids. Several of them. Second problem? Multiple clerks. Third problem? No bathroom. Fourth problem? No privacy for a masturbation attempt. Not good. The clerks gave me some pretty extreme looks, but they were older and I got the wrong sort of vibe. It wasn't a "ooh, I'd like to do her" vibe. It was a "what the fuck is she doing in here? Nice looks, but will she buy anything?" sort of vibe. So I put off the comic book store and got back in my truck. Slipping the ben wa balls back in was a bit of a trial. Evidently putting ben wa balls in and taking them out, is actually almost more trying and stimulating than walking around with them in.

I only had to drive a short distance, but I pulled up into the half filled lot and once more tugged the ben wa balls out, dumping them in my plastic cup. The cabin reeked of pussy juice and even the air conditioner was having a hard time dealing with the scent. I cracked a window and got out. I smoothed my skirt down over my still stinging and overly warm ass and headed into cool air, the quiet stillness, and the sharp scent of paper and cardstock. Welcome to the Library.

Michael once told me that Houston's libraries sort of suck, because rather than going with several large libraries located in strategic spots around the city, they opted for small branch libraries scattered like leaves across the metropolitan area. I wouldn't know if one way or the other is better for finding the book you're looking for, but for me, having that small library was excellent. The first thing I did was make a grand tour, checking out the new book section, fiction, mystery, and of course, the various librarians. There was only one working that afternoon that was male and he was this thick necked white guy with long dark brown hair. It wasn't exactly dirty, but it was... untidy. He also wore a beard and mustache, trying to counterbalance the fact he couldn't have been more than twenty five or twenty six. He was sitting alone at the information desk, which I thought was a boon. I approached and gave him my million watt please stick your bookmark inside my pages smile.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely, but with a bored tone. Ooohhh, was his day about to improve or what? I leaned over, making sure my breasts were like RIGHT THERE, and the quietly asked "I'm looking for a book on how to give good blow jobs."

Geeze, you'd think I had asked for instructions on how to commit political assassinations!

"Excuse me, miss. I don't think we have any books here. You'll need to look elsewhere," the librarian told me, his dark eyes now openly staring at my breasts. Of course they were only inches from his face so I guess it's sorta expected.

I managed to look contrite and disappointed all at the same time and I gave him a little pout. Then I changed the expression to cut.

"Well, maybe if I practice, I'll get better at it?" I said in a sort of sign song taunt. His eyes widened.

"Would you be willing to practice with me?" I asked.

"What? ME? Why?" he demanded, looking around wildly. I shrugged. "Cause you happen to have a cock and I need to practice," I told him, but then I leaned forward even more and whispered. "But if you would rather just fuck, I'm fine with that too!"

It took him a while to think, but not that long. After a moment he stood up, took a key from the desk and said in a slightly too loud voice, "let me get you set up in a study room."

I followed him and rather than being led to one of the glass windowed private study rooms, he led me to a solid door marked "A/V". He opened it quickly and ushered me in and I found myself sandwiched between a variety of metal carts and television sets and stuff. I turned back to the librarian and found him already unbuckling his pants. Seconds later he whipped out his book mark and I sank to my knees, opened my mouth, and took a long hard pull. I'm going to admit, I sorta played with myself while I sucked him off. I know, I shouldn't have, but I did and I needed it too. As it was he took a bit of time to make pop. When he finally did cum the first squirt went into my mouth. The second squirt was shot across my cheek with white spooge dripping down onto my shirt. I did the best I could to swallow as much as I could, but I still ended up with a rather obvious cum spot on my shirt, just above my left breast.

He thanked me politely and mumbled the usual platitudes but I didn't care. I gave him a chaste kiss and then headed out. I had other places to go, other things to do, and more cock to fuck and suck.

5. Top Floor of A SkyScraper - Special Person: Woman in a Business suit.


I pulled into the Galleria and decided that despite the general purring of my pussy, the rumbling of my tummy was suddenly more important. Since I knew it might be a little while, I left my ben wa balls in and walked from my truck to the food court. That might have been a mistake, though others might see it as merely expected. I mean seriously, I still am a nympho humiliation pain slut, right? So while I ate I figured out where I needed to go from here and just went with the flow. That flow meant Williams Tower and I headed over there after my chicken salad sandwich was safely inside me as surely as the ben wa balls.

Though in different spots I might add.

The sky bridge is pretty cool and connects Williams Tower to the Galleria. I've been in the tower a few times before so I knew my way around. The place was almost completely deserted, especially on a Saturday, so I was alone as I rode the elevator up half way, got out, and moved to the second set of elevators.

Don't ask me. I have no idea why some of the elevators don't go all the way to the top. Do I look like an architect to you? I FUCK architects. That's about as close to building design as I get.

I wish the sky observation floor was still open to the public, but it isn't. Instead I found myself wandering the top accessible floor. It's another world up there and I looked seriously out of place. Who wouldn't dressed in flip flops, a short skirt, and a skimpy top declaring the wearer to be a "Porn Princess!" I had already gotten a lot of looks just from the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. And now, thanks to my walk around the mall sans panties (which is always a turn on for me) while stuffed with ben wa balls, I was more than ready to find some action.

Unfortunately, I was required to find A WOMAN, in a BUSINESS SUIT. Yeah. Like that was likely. Well, I started roaming and trying really hard not to attract any more attention than absolutely necessary. Mostly I hung out at the restroom and elevators areas, figuring that it was a better ploy than knocking on random offices and seeing if any were occupied, and if they were, occupied by a female, and if occupied by a female, if they were dressed in a suit. And if in a suite, would they be open to sexual relations.

That's a lot of if's.

Forty minutes later I was getting tired of standing around. I had already seen several quite serviceable guys who would gladly have followed me into hell itself in order to screw my brains out. I was just about ready to make the decision and go with the very next guy who walked my way when SHE came.

It wasn't technically a business suit, but it was close. The skirt was a little flashy to be part of a suit, but she was wearing a coat and she passed me on the way into the women's restroom. Even better, she had given me a serious sort of look as we passed each other in the hall. Now granted, it might have been because of what I was wearing, or the fact that I seemed a bit distracted (gosh... I wonder why?) But regardless I followed her into the bathroom. I washed my face and hands while she did her business and when she came out and we stared at the mirror together, I finally summoned the courage to still both the butterflies in my stomach and the ones in my pussy.

"Hi. I'm Breanne" I said with what I hoped was an inviting smile. She looked at me. Her long brunette hair was pulled back and held in place with a few pins. I stared in fascination with her throat. It was white and perfect and rather beautiful. I wondered how beautiful the rest of her was.

"Josephine," she said curtly, and went back to washing her hands. I felt a little crushed. Talk about a shut down. I finished washing my hands and went to the paper towel dispenser. I couldn't help looking at her bottom while I dried off. You could see the little Y shape of her thong disappearing into the crack of her ass. Oh my god... it was just incredible. She caught me looking too.

"Are you looking at my bottom?" she demanded, whirling, wet hands held up. I pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and handed it to her. She muttered thank you and began drying off.

"Well?"

I nodded. "Yes. You've got a beautiful backside."

Her eyebrow went up in a quirky but rather puzzled expression.

Hmmm... a little warmer. So I went for broke.

"I want to kiss your bottom. I want to make you cum. I want to make love to you."

Her face went white, but her eyes traced my curves.

"You're a lesbian?" she asked, somewhat nervously.

I nodded yes. Why confuse her, right?

She licked her lips, obviously thinking about something, and then I was told to follow her. I did of course and she led me around to one of the private offices. It was a posh office, two rooms, and no... I'm not giving her name or her office number or anything. Sorry. But that's just not right. Besides, she was obviously only interested in girls. I sat down on the plus chair across from her desk. Josephine remained standing and then did the strangest thing I ever thought I'd be on the receiving end of.

She did a strip tease.

It was hard core too. There was no music of course, but she was a natural, twisting her body this way and that and frankly she’d be top dollar at some of the more expensive clubs. Her jacket came off and then she unbuttoned her shirt. The bra underneath was this really expensive pink lace, but she had it off in seconds, exposing smallish but perky little breasts. The skirt came off next and I discovered that she was wearing matching panties AND a GARTER BELT. Wow… old school. I like it!

Want to know how to tell a slut from a girl who just likes to dress up nice? That’s really simple if she’s wearing a garter belt. Are the panties on the inside, or the outside? In Josephine’s case, she was able to peel those panties right off without a moment’s hesitation, leaving the garter belt in place and holding up her thigh high stockings. And in that state she moved straight toward me, climbed up onto the arms rests of the chair, and began feeding me her breasts.

Would it surprise you to know that I have NEVER had a lap dance before? Never. Not once. Oh sure, I’ve DONE them, usually with all sorts of broken rules, since I understand that technically you’re not supposed to touch the girl giving you the dance, and that you’re generally not supposed to have oral sex, or regular sex either for that matter. I have to admit, lap dances are kinda fun. I think I’ll have to do more. I sucked on Josephine’s fine nipples and even nipped them a bit, just to get her going, while my fingers stroked her back and bottom. She wriggled on top of me like a professional and then slid her way down my body until she was on her knees in front of me. Her hands came up to my breasts, gave them both a decent squeeze, and then pulled up my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra of course, so it was immediate exposure and Josephine decided it was time to sample the goods. Her mouth came up and began nibbling on me, sucking and biting lightly. Her body squirmed in closer, pushing my knees apart. I felt fingers slide down my hip and then across my thigh. I gasped when she found my slit, but she pulled away from my breasts when she encountered the string to the ben wa balls. She leaned backward and pushed my skirt upward as I lifted my thighs and spread my legs. With both legs propped up on the arm rests now Josephine bent down, her nose and fingers exploring. She tugged on the string, discovered the ben wa balls, and then slowly pulled them out.

With her teeth.

The moment my pussy was empty she dove right back in with her fingers, pushing two into me and literally finger fucking me. This loud squelching noise filled the little office and I started quivering. Remember, I had been WALKING around the top of the Williams Tower for like forty minutes or so. I was TERRIBLY bothered. She worked me into a froth and in short order I was keening as the orgasm rocked through me.



But Josephine wasn’t done. Oh no. The moment I came her mouth came down on my clit and began this intense tongue action that I can only describe as amazing. It was like she sucked and licked me at the same time. While she was doing this one of the fingers that had been stuck up inside me moved down and the rather lubricated nail and finger began scratching and pushing against my anus. It felt incredible and I didn’t even object when she pushed her finger in, up to the knuckle. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I had a second orgasm. Things would have continued along that vein too if I hadn’t reached out and pulled Josephine away from between my legs. We exchange a very wet full tongue kiss and I tasted myself on her mouth. Then I brought my legs down and stood up, pulling her with me. Then I pushed her down into the chair and lifted her legs up, one at a time. Then it was my turn to do a little spelunking!

Josephine wasn’t shaved like me, but she was very closely trimmed and I had no trouble getting in there and bringing her to a quivering orgasm. Her fingers were curled in my hair, holding me to her crotch as I licked and nipped her clit until she was letting out this high pitched keen. Her whole body stiffened as she came and it was quite a strong one. Then she sort of melted into this relaxed totally limp rag doll position and I went back to licking, except this time going from her clit all the way down to the bottom of her slit in long strokes of my tongue. I tasted her explosion and was rewarded with a tangy flavor that seemed a little sharp, just like Josephine herself. As I went back up to her clit, my fingers found her nipples and I began rolling them between thumb and forefinger, slowly increasing the pressure as I applied more darts of the tongue to her clit. She responded rather well and was soon heading for another orgasm. With my mouth still firmly pressed to her slit, I brought one hand down away from her breast and reached for my bag. I found it and then with both hands managed to unzip it. I did all this blind of course, since my face was still pressed tightly to Josephine’s skin, her thighs against both cheeks. I found what I was looking for by touch alone and then, without even a hint of warning, I brought it up between my breasts, pulled my lips away from her pussy, and plunged the Core Driller into Josephine’s body.

She went rigid, gasping, her eyes quickly finding the black rubber rocket ship shaped intruder as I pushed the first six inches in easily. After that it began to get a little tight. She reached down to grab the dildo, I’m not sure whether to stop it or help it, but this was my show and I knocked her hand away. I pulled it back out, not completely though, and then slipped it back in. My left hand came up and pinched her clit, rolling it around and you should have seen her stiffen, her body tightening up, her hands balled into fists. I managed to get almost three quarters of the dildo in her before she came. It had taken repeated thrusts and I’m pretty sure that poor little Josephine had been contenting herself with just clitoral orgasms and some light masturbatory play. She didn’t keen or wail when she came that second time, she SCREAMED. Yeah. A loud purely animal call of lust that I’m sure had the other offices on the top floor be occupied would have resulted in either a call to security or a polite knock to ask if they could come in and watch. It wasn’t a cry of pain… oh no. It was a cry of absolute release. Totally fucking awesome! I kept pumping the Core Driller in and out as well as flicking her clit until she finally couldn’t take it any more, reaching down and grabbing my wrists. Her chest was heaving and there were actual tears streaming from her eyes.

I started to pull the Core Driller out but she gasped and strengthened her grip on my wrist.

“Oh God, no! Please leave it in!” she begged. Uh… okay. I slid it back in and added another inch of penetration. She had only taken nine or so inches of it. A series of spasms hit her and she shuddered again, still clearly under the sway of the adrenaline/endorphin mix her body had pumped into her brain at the height of my… um… direct stimulation. To be honest, the sight of Josephine sitting there in the chair, thin legs up, still in garter belt and thigh high stockings, with a giant black dildo sticking out of this well trimmed pussy will be one of my favorite memories for years to come. Seriously, I’ve NEVER seen a woman enjoy getting fucked that much before. It was awesome.

I stood up and grabbed my ben wa balls which were on the carpeted floor and stuck them back into my pussy. Josephine watched with interest. As I straightened my skirt and pulled down my shirt, she reached between her legs and slowly pulled the Core Driller out until only an inch was still inside her. Then, to my complete surprise, she pushed it back in again, groaning. She repeated this and I moved back to my former position between her knees, taking it from her. Slowly, I began pumping it in and out as she moaned, her thighs trembling. The word “insatiable” went through my mind.

“I’ve never felt anything like it,” Josephine whispered to me as I managed to get ten inches into her. I drew the dildo out.

“What? You’ve never had a dildo inside you?” She shook her.

“Never. Just my fingers.” I blinked in surprise.

“What about a vibrator?” I asked.

She shook her head. Now the word “deprived” went through my brain. I drew the dildo almost all the way out and pushed it in again. Josephine acted like a junkie getting a fix. Wow.

I stayed like that, slow pumping the Core Driller into Josephine for another twenty minutes. We managed to get all twelve inches into her as well as pick up the pace until she came a third time. Of course that one wiped her out and she was nothing more than a feminine shaped and scented blob of jelly that could barely move when I was done. I pulled out the Core Driller and while she watched, proceeded to lick it clean. Then with most of the fluids gone, I wiped it on my shirt and tucked in back in the bag.

“Where do I get one of those?” she asked. I laughed.

We got dressed and Josephine followed me downstairs. She was a little nervous as we crossed the parking lot to the Zone d’ Erotica store right across the lot, but she loosened up when I put my hand in hers. Together we went into the store and I helped her choose a decent vibrator and a nice dildo. I had to discourage her from getting this giant fourteen incher too. Finally she settled on a rather nice impersonation of my Husky dildo – nine inches, and a turned tip g-spot vibrator.

“Come back to my office and help me try them out?” Josephine asked as we left the store. I checked my watch. It was almost three o’clock by this time and I still had a ton of “locations” to visit. I explained I had to move on and we exchanged numbers. I headed back toward the Galleria and my car, while Josephine went back up to her office. I have no doubt that she didn’t get much more “work” done that day.


6. On A Bus - Special Person: Any guy in a suit

The nice thing about being at the mall was that it wasn’t a long wait for the bus. I stood at the stop with about four other people for around ten minutes before one of the standard advertisement laden vehicles pulled up. A few dollars from my purse bought me passage and I climbed on board one of America’s most inefficient mass transport systems ever designed. Our bus had eleven passengers. I looked for a guy in a suit, but there weren’t any. Too bad. I took a seat at the back of the bus, well away from any of the other riders, and watched the scenery change. Ostensibly, after nine stops I had to conclude that I wasn’t going to even see my “special guy” much less get to suck or fuck him. So resigned to a single point I reached between my legs, pulled up my skirt, and pulled out my ben wa balls. After my sexcapade with Josephine, I wasn’t exactly “ready” to orgasm and even working the Core Driller into my pussy on the buss, wasn’t really enough of a turn on to get me seriously ready to orgasm. I began pinching my nipples and lifted up my shirt, exposing one breast as I slowly but surely walked toward the edge of Orgasm Cliff. This was all done in a relatively private way since no one looked back and no one sat down near me. Hell, I could have taken some poor girl’s virginity and sacrificed her to the sex gods back there and gotten away with it.

I came just as we were pulling up to an office building east of the loop, much closer to downtown, and still on Westheimer. Still in the throes of orgasm, I yanked the Core Driller out of my pussy, stood up, smoothed down my skirt and yanked down my shirt, and headed for the door. A number of people looked at me with shocked faces. I was flushed, clearly breathing hard, and was holding an incredibly wet 12 inch dildo in my right hand, in plain sight. Even the driver gave me a shocked look as I climbed down to the sidewalk. Just for fun, I turned back to the bus as it started to roll away. I couldn’t see any faces because of the printed advertisement over the windows, but I knew they could see me. So I sucked on my Core Driller like a little girl enjoying a popsicle. I would have given money to see their expressions!

As soon as the bus rolled away I wiped off the dildo (yes on my shirt. Yes… a little gross. Sorry) and put it away. I turned and looked up at the imposing structure which had prompted me to cut short the afterglow of orgasm. Eleven stories tall and all glass and concrete, the bottom floor was a bank, which meant the building would be open on a Saturday.

7. Office Building - Special Person: Janitor

The building WAS open, but the bank wasn’t. That didn’t bother me. It wasn’t like I was going to make a deposit or anything. In fact, I was looking to make a withdrawal actually… of white cream out of some janitor if I could manage it. I started my floor by floor sweep, slowly moving upward via the stairs. I was starting to get just a little agitated since my quick stop at the ladies rest room when I first got in the building. I had washed my Core Driller and reinserted my ben wa balls, and of course the up and down movement of climbing stairs had been the necessary action needed to get my ben wa balls rolling. By floor eight, I was getting just a tad bit desperate. Of course, that’s when I found the janitor.

Well… actually… cleaning lady.

She was Hispanic (is that a surprise here in Houston?) and was working diligently at the restroom. She was maybe about forty, a little short, a little overweight, and clearly would not be in the mood to get hit on by a nympho humiliation pain slut. So I left her to her work and proceeded to the stairwell again where I supercharged my pussy by exploring every floor and going up. Near the top, I was headed toward the restrooms when a man came walking down the hall. He was maybe thirty eight or so, with a receding hair line, khaki pants and a dark green polo shirt. He was empty handed and seemed to be going to the same spot I was, but our eyes locked and I picked up the pace just slightly so that we would meet at the restroom doors, rather than miss each other. I didn’t waste any time.

“Hi! I’m Breanne!” I said enthusiastically and quite brightly, with a huge smile on my face.

He blinked. Evidently he wasn’t expecting that sort of greeting.

“Uh… Richard,” he managed to say, but his eyes were glued, and I mean GLUED, to my chest. I took a deep breath. Who says I can’t cheat?

“Nice to meet you, Richard! Where are you headed?” I asked.

He tore his eyes away from my heaving breasts and looked at my face with a slightly suspicious look. “The bathroom?” He said it like “are you an idiot?”

I took a step closer, intentionally violating his personal space. The tips of my breasts grazed his arm as I twisted a bit. I lowered my lashes and voice at the same time. “Need some help?” I asked.

His eyebrows went up. “Going to the bathroom?”

I grinned. “I can hold it for you,” I said mischievously.

He took a step back and gave me a look of mixed horror and interest.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I just want to give you a blowjob. Are you interested or not?” I said with some heat.

The look of horror on his face was replaced with surprise. “Oh. Oh… Okay. Sure… I mean, well… uh… why me?”

I smiled again, but not intensely. “Because I want cock and you’re here and so am I.”

He nodded and then looked guilty. “Will I owe you anything?”

I grabbed his arm and led him into the men’s restroom. “Tell you what, you shoot a nice thick spunky load down my throat, and we’ll call it even.”

We went into the restroom and were treated to the normal bathroom décor. Large mirror, several stalls, a few urinals and I’m guessing the cleaning lady had already been there because the place was immaculate. Even the toilet paper was restocked. Richard looked at me in embarrassment for a moment.

“Um… I do really need to pee.”

I laughed at him. I know, not nice. But I did. Then I pushed him toward the urinal. He looked sheepish as I stepped up next to him. As soon as he fished his cock out of the white briefs he was wearing I reached over with my left hand and grabbed his cock, even as I pressed my breasts into his back. He stiffened.

“I’ll hold it for you,” I whispered. “Told you I’d help.”

Of course, under my hand like that poor Richard immediately stiffened like a plank, his cock growing a good three or four inches as the blood rushed into his manhood. I didn’t help when I began stroking it, rubbing it up and down with my finger tips, all while Richard tried in vain to pee.

Finally I turned him around, hand still on his dick and said “I guess we’ll just have to make you cum first.” Then I dragged him into the handicap stall and pushed him down onto the toilet. Richard’s cock was relatively normal. He was circumcised, which is actually pretty common these days, and clean. I got down on my knees because that’s where a nympho humiliation pain slut is supposed to be, right? Then I bent my head downward and began licking his tip. This changed into sucking and stroking and then I yanked down his trousers and briefs, exposing his balls so I could play with those too. I stroked, I licked, I squeezed, I rubbed, I deep throated, I twisted. I even pulled up my shirt, showing him both bare breasts. Nothing. He moaned a lot. It obviously felt good. But nothing happened. Ten minutes, then fifteen passed. I started worrying.

“You need to cum,” I whispered between sucks.

“I… ugggh… can’t… eeeehh… in this… ooohh…. position!” he declared.

I pulled my mouth off his cock and snagged my bag. Inside where a number of small square packets and I pulled one out and ripped it open. Sticking the contents in my mouth and moving it around like bubble gum, I went back down on Richard’s hard shaft, slipping the condom down over his wet prick with a skill that only hours of practice, tied up Viagra laced boy, and a vicious dominatrix with a fucking paddle could have achieved. Once Richard was sheathed I pulled away and laid down on the floor of the stall, spreading my legs. I reached down and yanked the ben wa balls out of my wet slit and dropped them on the tile.

“Fuck me, Richard! Cum for me!” I said.

Richard fell off the toilet but crawled over to me. Kneeling between my legs, he lowered his cock down and gently speared my sex, slipping himself in nicely. His feet were tangled in his pants, but he managed to kick off one shoe and then pull one trouser leg off. He lifted one leg and straddled me, locking my knees together beneath his ass while his cock slipped repeatedly in and out of my pussy. His face came down toward mine, but then slipped down to my breasts as he bent slightly. He squeezed one tit and then began sucking on my nipple. It felt good, but wasn’t exactly the most incredible of sensations for a girl. Richard pumped a bit more, let go of my breasts, and then clenched his teeth as he groaned. I felt his cock spasm and then turn to granite inside me and I knew I was about to make that withdrawal. There was a shudder and he gave three more little thrusts before collapsing on top of me. I lay there in a state of near apoplexy since the tile was cold under my ass and back, and I was about as close to orgasm as you can get and not cum.

8. On A Train/Subway - Special Person: Handicapped Person

About thirty minutes later I got off another bus (again no guy in a suit by the way) at Elgin and Main and walked south just a bit along the tracks until I got to the next station. It wasn’t a long walk, but it was still very hot outside and the fact that I was still desperately horny thanks to Richard’s urgency, not to mention the ben wa balls rolling around inside me, prompted me to hurry. Hurry up and wait that is. I got to the platform and there wasn’t a train in sight. I had to wait a full 15 minutes or so, sitting there on a bench, being stared at a by a few other passersby and train riders as I shifted around and tried to sit still. Plus I was resisting the urge to pull out my dildo and fuck myself with it.

The other thing I was looking for was a handicapped person. Not a single one in sight. My plan was simple. Ride all the way down to the Astrodome and back, looking for the right person. If I made it all the way up to downtown, then on the way back to the Ensemble Station I would go ahead and at least get my one point. Finally the train arrived and I climbed aboard with my ticket. There were two cars so I moved to the southern train and proceeded to find a seat. Which is when I realized I was going to have a serious problem.

Unlike the bus, the trains had benches, two long benches running down the sides, facing each other. It’s also the only train in Houston. This meant that no matter WHAT I choose to do, I’d be in plain sight doing it unless I managed to be incredibly lucky. With each passing station the realization of two truths became stronger. One, there were no handicap people riding. Two, I was going to get arrested for public lewdness.

It took a full half hour or so to get to the Astrodome. I could see Reliant Stadium behind it too. We crossed the loop and I saw the stupid field where Astroworld used to be. I miss Astroworld. Stupid Six Flags. Can you imagine the sort of trouble I could get into there if they were still open? Anyway, two passengers got off and no one got on. I was alone. How’s that for dumb luck?

I didn’t bother waiting for a handicapped person to get on the train. I had only a few minutes between stations! I whipped out my Core Driller, spread my legs, dug out the ben wa balls, and literally rammed the 12 inch rubber cock into my pussy with a mixture of immediacy and need that had me gasping even before the train picked up speed. My skirt was up around my waist, my legs were spread, and just to make things really good, I lifted up my shirt so that I could judiciously pinch a nipple while driving the dildo in and out.

Thank God I was already really horny. And thank God no one got on at the Astrodome station. If they had, they would have gotten the show of a lifetime because I was close enough to orgasm not to dare stop and in a situation where had anyone stepped on to the train, I wouldn’t have been able to get everything concealed in time. As it was I was gasping and shaking as we rolled into the next station and I managed to extract the Core Driller and close my legs just in time. Two single passengers and a family got on.

One of the passengers stared at me for a moment and I realized that while my legs were concealing my sodden wet sex, I was still holding in plain sight the 12 inch Core Driller dildo, not to mention the fact that my shirt was still up, exposing my breasts. I turned beat red and quickly yanked down my shirt. Then I was confronted with the still wet and slick dildo. Do I just stick it in my bag? I twisted in my seat and turned away, hoping that no one would come over to investigate. I started licking it, tasting my own cum. One of the single passengers however thought I was interesting enough to come over and see what ELSE I would be doing. He sat right across from me, but didn’t say a word, just watched me lick my dildo. The family had glanced at me and moved to the far end. Passenger number two was oblivious.

Which left me with a sort of audience. I finished with the Core Driller and then put it away. We made another stop, but no one got on or off and then we started moving again. I turned to face passenger number one. He was in his mid-thirties, brown hair, slightly overweight but not obese, and sat there with a silly grin on his face. I smiled back at him. I won’t swear to it, but I’m pretty sure there was a twinkle in his eye. So I shifted in my seat and faced him directly. Then, ever so slowly, I spread my legs.

Now I didn’t just throw them wide open. I did it innocently, like I wasn’t aware I was doing it. First one inch. Then two or three a minute later. By the time we reached the next stop my knees were at least a foot apart. During the whole time I had also been judiciously pulling up my skirt, ever so slightly. So when he finally did get a really good glimpse of my pussy, my skirt wouldn’t have covered it had I been standing. He licked his lips and continued to stare at the goods.

Which is when I pulled out my ben wa balls. With a quick glance up the train, I brought them down to my pussy. My audience almost gasped in surprise as I tilted my hips and began slipping the first ball through my petals. I’m sure he thought I was masturbating. The first ben wa ball slipped in and then I maneuvered the second one to follow. Stuffed and ready for more sexual torture I rolled my hips and then gave my audience one of my million watt please stare at me and masturbate every time you think of me smiles. I would have gone a bit father, but my stop was coming up. It wasn’t the ensemble stop. New plan. Since I had earned my one point on the tram, it was time to find my next location. When the train stopped I closed my legs, much to passenger number one’s disappointment and then I waved. He blinked as I got off the tram, but didn’t follow.

Which I suppose is good, right?

The train sped off and I looked out across a campus that I’ve wanted to attend, dreamed of attending, but never had the money or the grades to attend. Rice University.


9. On A College Campus - Special Person: Faculty Member

It was getting late in the afternoon and almost immediately I realized that the likelihood of me finding a faculty member at the campus was rather a long shot. I had already wandered three buildings and while I had seen a few prospects, they all appeared to be students. Granted, I was looking for a prof in an office, like what I was used to at UH, but evidently none of them work the weekend.

Actually things worked out though. I mean ANY one who works for Rice is considered faculty, right? Did it HAVE to be a professor? Probably not. Why not a Teaching Associate, right? They’re faculty! As it was I was in the Mechanical Engineering Building when I finally got exasperated at my luck. I had been walking for almost an hour and the ben wa balls, despite my earlier orgasm on the train, had gotten me right back to the point where I was pretty much willing to fuck anything ambulatory with the correctly shaped appendage. I would have just found a quiet corner to Core Driller myself, but I figured “geeze, you’re on a college campus! Can’t you find SOME guy to fuck?”

Which is what I did. I bumped into this guy coming out of a lab of some sort. He was tall, thin, maybe twenty something, wearing jeans and a tee shirt. We saw each other and of course my attire was more than enough to get his attention. Or maybe it was my short skirt. Oh… probably it was the Porn Princess tee shirt with incredibly visible nipple bumps on the front. I gave him one of my million watt please take me somewhere here on campus and fuck my brains out smiles. He nodded and started to walk past me, but I detoured and literally “ran” into him.

Oops.

“Excuse me,” he said politely, while still staring at my breasts. To give the guy credit, it was sort of hard NOT to stare at them at that point. Up close the material of the shirt was almost transparent. It probably didn’t help that I was taking deep breaths and arching my back either.

“It’s me who should be apologizing,” I said with a grin as I extracted my arms from around him. “I wasn’t watching where I was going!” I gave him a speculative look. “I’m Breanne.”

“Ross,” he said.

I smiled again, putting my entire sexual being into that grin. “Hi Ross. Are you busy right now?”

He gave me a weird look but then shook his head. “Nothing I can’t put off. Why?”

I laughed. “I need some help. I’m looking for a room.”

“Oh. What room?”

I shrugged. “It’s not a particular room. I just need a private, quiet, sorta dark room.”

He looked at me quizzically.

“Okay. What do you need it for?”

Now it was my turn to look enigmatic. I grinned mischievously. “I’ll show you once you find it for me.”

I guess that explanation was sufficient because he literally just reopened the door he had come out of and let me look in.

It was nothing more than a medium sized classroom, except instead of individual desks there were several large tables. Each was surrounded by several chairs. I stepped into the room and he flipped one of three sets of light switches. Several lights came on, just enough to provide a little illumination. A large marker board on one end of the room was covered in equations and other wizardly scribble that a humble little nympho humiliation pain slut wouldn’t understand. The door closed behind us and he looked at me in expectation.

“Private room. Now what?” he asked pointedly.

I peeled my shirt upward over my head, letting him see everything. I didn’t even turn away. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he got what I call “Tits Impairment”. It’s a psychological condition that affects guys when they see (in real life only) tits. But of course I didn’t stop there. I wriggled my hips and sent my skirt to the ground too. Now he was seriously having trouble and Ross licked his lips as I kicked my skirt off one foot and then began walking toward him. He stood his ground though, which I have to admit was pretty impressive considering that I felt like a lion huntress going for her next meal.

“Now I fuck your brains out,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and stood on tip toe to kiss him.

It was a hungry kiss. A deep wet kiss. Then I practically tore his clothes off, dragged him to the floor, and started in on his cock using my mouth. We rotated around and I found myself in a sixty nine, his tongue probing my slit and clit. There was one awkward moment when he found the ben wa balls, but these were extracted with a minimum of fuss and quite a bit of interest on his part. As for me, my mouth was full when he tugged them out of me, so I didn’t say anything.

He rolled me over and off him after a few minutes and then I was spread open on the cheap carpet. Ross moved up my body, his mouth on my belly then breasts, tasting, biting, nipping, and sucking. Then I felt his cock slip deep inside me and we were screwing violently, wrecking ball and building as he absolutely destroyed me. I came first. I was too close… to ready. Then I just moaned and let him do what he wanted.

He took me to dinner afterwards, which I thought was very nice, and then he dropped me off at my truck, which was nicer still. We exchanged emails so I’m sure I’ll hear from Ross again. But I still had eleven more location to hit before I was done, and even though I still had the rest of the evening and all of Sunday, I didn’t have THAT much time.

10. SuperStore - Special Person: Sports and Outdoor Gear Associate

It was after eight when I pulled off of Interstate 10 and threaded my way to the retail giant affectionately known as Wally World. Ostensibly I was supposed to find the Sports and Outdoor Gear Associate. But after I asked around, I discovered that the regular sports section person had already gone home for the evening. Damn. Now I’ve messed around in Wal-Mart before and I have to tell you, they are NOT open to Nympho Humiliation Pain Sluts using their establishment as a playground. As it was, there aren’t any good spots to fuck people in Wal-Mart. Sure, you can go behind the building, or do it in the parking lot, but the dressing rooms are off limits because they monitor them so closely. And there are too many associates to find one and hope they can take you to a private spot. It just won’t happen.

So what did I do? Well, I picked out some clothes, went to the dressing room by myself, and proceeded to masturbate with the Core Driller until I came. Took a bit of time too and I’m sure the girl manning the desk was starting to wonder what the hell I was doing in there. I wish something more exciting had happened but it didn’t. It was just the typical me sitting in a small booth, one leg propped up on the bench, plunging a dildo into my pussy. Now I have to admit that having the mirror was rather nice. It definitely gave me a new perspective on my masturbatory prowess. I’m pretty good actually.

In A Swimming Pool or Spa - Special Person: Anyone wearing a swimsuit.



I’d been out all day and I was hot and tired and to be honest, thoroughly fucked. Between cock, the Core Driller, and my ben wa balls, I had literally spent almost the entire day with something between my legs that was either pumping, impaling, or rolling around. That’s a lot to deal with for any one. But as I was about to leave Wal-Mart, a thought struck me and I made a quick purchase of two items. Then I got back into the truck and proceeded down I-10 toward Highway 6 where there were a number of hotels, each of which had a nice cool pool. Getting into a hotel is rather easy, and I don’t mean by actually renting a room. The trick is to look like you belong. For me it also helped that I was 1. hot and 2. carrying something that looked an awful lot like a hotel door key card. Of course this was just my library card, but at a distance, the front desk clerk has no idea, right?

So still dressed in my denim skirt, pink porn princess tee shirt, flip flops and ben wa balls, I strolled into my “chosen” hotel with a determined look and an expression of “I belong here and I know exactly where I’m going.”

And to be honest, I did belong there and I DID know where I was going. I was going swimming.

I also had my purchases from Wal-Mart in a white shopping bag. I turned right down the main hall and went about ten doors down until I found what I was looking for; one of their meeting rooms, dark and empty. A ton of dark emerald green chairs were stacked along the wall and the crimson floor with the little gold blotches seemed to reflect a red light. I quickly opened the door, slipped inside, and stripped naked. Now usually when I strip naked it’s for a crowd, but in this case I was all alone and I needed it to be that way. My clothes, purse, and ben wa balls all got stuck in one of the white shopping bags and I tugged the tags off my new bikini. It was just a little tight for me, but I didn’t mind. I wrapped up in my towel, left the flip flops on, and proceeded to head back out into the hall. Another right and I quickly found myself at the door leading out to the pool. I didn’t need an access card to get out and when I stepped out into the pool area. One of the things I had looked for when choosing a hotel to “crash” was someone already in the pool area. You never want to risk having to climb over a fence. In my case there were a number of people swimming already and I made it look like my “key” wasn’t working. A quick request and one of the guys immediately came to help out the poor red haired girl in the tiny bikini. Hell, I could have probably been climbing over the fence and they would have assisted me! Trust me, trespassing is always easier to get away with when you’re barely dressed.

Despite the late hour there were six people swimming in that tiny pool. Unfortunately for me, two were female, one who was obviously a mother of two children in the pool. There was the husband and then there was two guys as well. I immediately made friends with practically everyone and spun a nice yarn about being from San Antonio here to visit friends. I would have said New York or Dublin, Ireland or someplace cool, but I’ve at least BEEN to San Antonio and can fake SOME knowledge of it! Anyway, our pool games went much more smoothly when both the husband and one of the guys started playing around to me. Now the wife was not so happy about this and gave him some pretty nasty looks and I gave up on him pretty early. But concentrating on the other guy was definitely a plan and our game of tag quickly turned sexual, though underwater. Mick (that was his name) thought it was pretty cool that wrestling with me resulted in some rather provocative squeezing. Even better was when I didn’t object. I had his cock in my hand several times while basically we waited for the family to leave. Mick’s friend could see we were pairing off and excused himself to head back to their room and around ten thirty or so Mick and I were finally alone in the pool.

I swam out into the deep end and then casually removed my top and bottom, throwing my swim suit over at Mick who watched in astonishment.

“Skinny dipping, are we?” he said nonchalantly.

I laughed and shook my head. “Nope, pool fucking.”

His eyes widened and I swam over toward him and quickly wrapped myself around him. His hands roamed my body and explored my depths a little, but one thing that pools are not good for is sex. At least not without some very specific lubrication options. Pool water tends to wash away the naturally occurring juices that make sex fun. So after a good bit of judicious tickles, touches, and me going underwater to give him a very short blowjob, I found my swimsuit and made to pull Mick toward the steps where we would be able to do something a little more interesting.

Mick grabbed me by the breasts and pulled me close. “Let’s go back to your room,” he whispered.

I shook my head. I could hardly confess that I didn’t HAVE a room. “I want you to fuck me here, in the pool.”

What man says no to that? Mick sure has hell didn’t. I got out of the pool long enough to get a condom and then, with him sitting on the stairs, his cute cock poking up out of the water, I straddled him and impaled myself rather nicely.

Once he was fully embedded and I was very well lubricated, we did sort of move back into the water. It reduced my comfort level a bit, but seemed to encourage Mick who thrust himself into me with enthusiasm before finally crushing me in an orgasmically induced bear hug that almost made me turn blue. I didn’t cum of course, but that’s not unexpected. When he was finished, we separated and I swam around for a bit looking for my swim suit. Finally I found it and Mick helped me put it back on.

I wrapped my towel around my bottom and Mick and I both left at the same time. He offered to walk me back to my hotel room, obviously hoping for an invite, but I turned the tables and offered to walk him to HIS room. That was not what he was hoping for obviously, but he didn’t see a decent way to turn things around. So we went together and he popped his door open. His friend was already asleep, obviously expecting us to be in my non-existent room. Ooops. Damn. Oh well, right?

I gave Mick a good night kiss, half hoping he would invite me in and I’d get to screw him again, and then his buddy for good measure, but he did the gentlemanly thing and just asked if we could meet for breakfast. I just smiled and said we’d run into each other. He kissed me again and then I waved and walked off. He didn’t follow.

Damn.

I didn’t bother changing back into my skirt and tee shirt, I just stepped into the meeting room long enough to push my ben wa balls back in. Then I headed for home. Due to the late hour, I didn’t bother to change and walked into the house in my now dry swimsuit, the ben wa balls making sure I was very aware that I hadn’t cum lately and keeping the crotch of my bikini bottoms damp.

To my surprise, my father was still up and when I walked in on him in the living room, the History Channel showing some documentary, we looked at each other in surprise.

“Nice swimsuit,” he said to me. I swallowed hard. This bikini was a tad bit smaller than anything I had ever worn around either of my parents. I think I flushed crimson.

“Have a good time?” he asked.

My brain short circuited. What to tell him?

“Uhhh… I was over at Kari’s apartment and she loaned me a suit.”

“Oh…” my dad replied with a knowing look.

I didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m uh… going to go to bed. Night Dad!”

He watched me go, and then said softly, “Good night Bre. Get your rest. I have no doubt you’ll need it for tomorrow.”



I'm still writing Part 2 so enjoy this!