Punishment: 072211 Hanging For A Screw Up

07/22/11

Sometimes I screw up accidentally. Sometimes I screw up on purpose. Sometimes I don’t screw up at all. And then most of the time I’m screwed.

One of my readers pointed out that I had screwed up the whole spanking part of the last assignment. Evidently, and totally forgot while in the midst of sexual nirvana, I was supposed to ask STRANGERS to do the whipping and spanking. Oops. Damn. That would have probably hurt LESS than what Julie did to me! Oh well… my bad.

The reader also suggested a “punishment” for being a screw up, which was absolutely his right. The punishment? Oh… just a few NHPS pushups… with a slight twist.

An NHPS pushup for every stroke you received that should have been from a stranger including the extras you received from Julie for a total of 61. Now I'm not heartless, so you may perform sets of NHPS pushups throughout a day which take you up to the total, however for every half hour or part of half hour between each set, you must perform an additional pushup.

Finally, to make things interesting, the following modification is made to your push-ups: make or use a hemp thong, instead of tying it up at the back (if you would tie the thong at the front, rotate it 180 degrees), attach the end of the rope to something above you which ensures that your pussy will always be suspended at least 6 inches off the ground, then perform the pushups. As NHPS pushups are pushups, remember to remain straight at all times, so that your pussy acts as a pivot point.



So a little before lunch I went down to the barn with what I would need. Friday is laundry day so I spent most of my morning in the house. I was dressed in a skirt of course, panties, bra and tee shirt, but tucked up inside me was the nine inch Husky Dildo, barely held in by the bikini briefs I was wearing.

To be honest, I almost always wear the Husky dildo on laundry days. See, that particular dildo won’t stay in unless it’s held in place. Usually, if I want to stay completely stuffed, I wear shorts or something. But a few weeks ago I discovered that if I just wear a skirt and panties, the dildo will literally slide halfway out of me every time I stand up. Guess what happens when I sit down?

Laundry day has lots of ups and downs, trust me.

Once I got to the barn there was a little bit of set up to do. The uh… modification… that was required meant getting out a bit of rope. Not my knotted rope though, thank God. I never want to HAVE to walk that rope again. Though I know I will, probably soon. But instead I just got out some nylon line and my ratcheting strap and hook, got them tied together, and then tossed the line up over one of the rafters to the loft. In short order I had it all tied off with the hook from the ratchet hanging about a foot and a half off the ground.

The next thing I got out was my tack mat. I keep this stashed in the barn. It’s nothing more than a black piece of flat rubber that has about a zillion small tack points sticking out of one side. Jus the point mind you. You could put your hand down on this and press as hard as you could and just come away with an unpleasant stinging sensation and about a thousand little red dots peppering your hand. No blood. No penetration.

I tossed the mat down a few feet to the side of the hanging hook and proceeded with the next step: stripping. I’m really good at stripping actually. There’s an art to it, whether your undressing in front of a stranger, a familiar lover, or even a doctor. Of course if you’re by yourself and doing it so that you can get on with a bit of sexual torture, really… efficiency is the goal. So I just peeled off my clothes, starting with my shirt, then my bra, then my skirt, and then my panties.

And of course, my dildo fell out.

I caught it and immediately brought it to my mouth. A quick cleaning later and I laid my dildo aside for later, and then pulled out my vibroballs. These I slipped inside me, my already wet petals parting rather easily as I pushed in the two golf ball sized spheres into my body. I held the remote in one hand and jacked up the vibrations to maximum, shuddering as the fires of my pressure boiler were stoked to even higher temperatures!

Another reach into my bag produced my hemp thong, a curious construct I made almost a year ago. I probably need to replace it. There is one thick, scratchy, horribly thick strand that goes right between my labia and does some moderately horrible things to my sensitive parts with every step. The knot to tighten the crotch rope is actually a clove hitch and sits (thanks to some decent yet stupid measuring on my part), directly above my clit.

Thus attired, (which means totally naked except for being stuffed with buzzing vibroballs and wearing a hemp thong) I moved under the dangling hook. I went to my knees, feeling the metal bump against my rump and I reached back and grabbed the curved metal, slipping it under the knot at the BACK of the hemp thong. I tilted forward and then even before getting in to pushup position, I felt the pull of the hook on my thong.

The rope between my legs tightened and the part that had split my pussy was now digging deeper than it ever had before. I gasped, and I hadn’t even put my whole weight on it! I moved into NHPS position, literally with my hands down, the tack mat underneath my chest, at a slightly head down angle.

Usually when I do a NHPS pushup, my toes are on the ground. Not this time. The only way my toes were going to touch the ground was if I bent at the waist, almost doing a forward back arch. The buzzing in my pussy was suddenly twice as strong and I groaned. Then, with deliberate masochism, I lowered myself down.

There were two noticeable differences to this NHPS pushup and my regular ones. First of all, my pussy was hurting. The rope was digging painfully into the soft tissue and I’m absolutely positive that my petals were bulging. You try sticking an inch wide piece of scratchy rope in between YOUR labia and see what happens! The second difference was that LESS weight went on my breasts, so the tack mat didn’t hurt quite as bad. The rope between my legs actually took some of my weight!

So I started doing my NHPS pushups. Since my hips weren’t going anywhere vertically, it was all upper body and I mashed my breasts repeatedly down onto the tacks. Despite it not hurting as much as usual, the tacks still bit into my nipples, and as a combination with the buzzing inside me, the rather difficult to bear pain of the rope holding me up by my crotch, all of it came nicely together. The hardest part was keeping my legs straight and up.

Then I sort of lost control. My body decided that since there were so many delicious sexual sensations going on, I ought to thrust. Never ever thrust when you’re dangling by a hemp crotch rope. Suddenly ouch went to “oh my fucking god OWWW!” The knot above my clit, which had already thoroughly crushed and flatted the nub now sawed at it as my own movements jerked the rope about a quarter to half inch through my legs. It was easily one of the most evil torments ever devised. I was on push up thirty seven or so when I realized that I actually got more movement when my breasts were mashed to the tacks, so I just stayed that way, my ass rolling, my legs taut, with just my toes on the ground for balance. I know… I was supposed to keep my legs straight. Physical impossibility when you’re cumming in this position.

In essence, I fucked the rope. Oh, and the vibroballs I guess, but really it was the rope. It was like the rope walk. Never ending abrasion. And adding the tacks pressing into my breasts? Wow.

Technically all this week I’m not allowed to cum unless I have my tongue inside a woman. A stranger. But at that moment, between NHPS pushup 38 and 39 I came with a cry of release that was half agony and half ecstasy and all I needed as I was cumming would have been for someone to come in just at that moment and take a belt to my ass.

When my orgasm was over, the pain hit me like a freight train, and I still had over twenty more pushups to do. I went quickly, trying desperately to finish them, lowering myself down, pressing my breasts against the pin prick mat while I put my hands behind my back, clasped my fingers together and squeezed. Then I would bring my hands back down to the floor, lift myself up, and repeat.

I tried to do the whole pivot thing, you know… feet on floor, breasts up, then feet up and breasts down. But it was a lot harder than it sounds. Maybe if someone made me up a specialized see saw or something to keep me straight…

Anyway, the last ten pushups were brutal, but I plugged away at it because I knew, I KNEW I wouldn’t be able to handle doing this a second time. Especially for just a few pushups. So I did it. All sixty one.

When I was done I had a bit of trouble getting free, but when I finally got to my feet and pulled the hook out from under the knot at the back of my hemp thong, the relief was major. I tugged the rope out of my pussy where it was lodged, but I didn’t untie it. Oh no. See, I had cum, and my tongue wasn’t inside a strange girl at the time.



I stumbled over to my bag and pulled out the bottle. I walked to the back of the barn and went out the door, standing in the yard. I was still naked except for the hemp thong and the vibroballs. The rain clouds hovered over the entire country side but it wasn’t raining yet. I opened the bottle and took one breath of that citrus scent, before tilting my head back and pouring a full cup full across my breasts. The lemon juice streamed down over my breasts and the pin pricks turned to fire. I wasn’t even aware of it when the juice soaked into the hemp thong, trickling down, until I was burning everywhere. I fell to my knees, arms crossed across my breasts, mashing them, my thighs pressed together, the vibroballs roaring inside me. It came upon me suddenly, out of the heat and agony. I grit my teeth but couldn’t hold it in any longer.

And then I came.