Assignment 080211: Skirting The Edge

I licked my lips lightly, tasting that tangy goodness and then I tried to control my breathing. It wasn’t easy, but then again, when is it ever? My eyes were closed. I didn’t need to see what I was doing. It didn’t matter if it was dark or light, everything I needed came through taste and touch. Of course I could hear as well, the slight squelching noise of something being pushed into a warm wet cavity. I moaned, groaning slightly, rubbing my knuckle against my clit as I spread my legs even farther to the corners of the bed. I started to tremble, shaking. The only thing going through my head was “oh yes, oh god YES!” I could feel the orgasm coming, rising to the surface like a whale coming up for air. I so needed the air. I grit my teeth as I crested, the climax so close…

And I pulled my hand away, sticking my wet warm finger in my mouth, slurping my own juices off, shaking like mad, as the whale glided up but never broke the crystal blue surface of the orgasmic sea. No air. No release. Just tension. Need. Want. Desire. Air.

That’s called an edge. It’s basically simple: masturbate yourself (or let someone do it for you!) until you are just about to cum. And when I say just about to cum, I mean you better be a second and a half from exploding. Then, before you can orgasm, stop. And when I say STOP, that means you have to completely stop. No cumming. Unfortunately for both guys and girls, stopping is sometimes pretty difficult to do. I know a lot of girls edge frequently and even pretty good at it.

I’m not.

Why? Well that’s simple. I don’t practice. I don’t like edging. It’s DENIAL torture of a kind, and I HATE being denied orgasms. Kari, my former lover and mistress and still current best friend RARELY denied me orgasms. Her idea of a fun way to torture me was clitoral overload, not denial. YOU try enduring twenty or so orgasms in one day and see how YOU feel!

But I suppose edges have their purpose and yesterday was full of them. It actually all started last week during my TOTM (time of the month). I’m pretty much on break during that week. Call it recovery, call it vacation, call it time to get caught up on my writing… whatever. But I got a rather interesting email from Master Brandon, one of my darker and more sadistic masters.

Breanne – For your first assignment after your TOTM, we are going to work on your ability to not only follow orders, but control your libido.

On the first day you will masturbate to the edge but no farther once for every hour you are awake, with a minimum requirement of 16 edges. You may wear any sex toy you feel will best assist you in your edges. You are not allowed to cum. Should you cum after an edge, you will immediately, regardless of where you are, apply your alligator clamps to both nipples and clit and leave them on for a full fifteen minutes.

Talk about wild. Of course, my real problem was that I hadn’t cum in over a week! That put my libido into the category of “desperately wanting.” Usually I masturbate four or five times a day, which I know is pretty extreme but I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut. I know it’s weird. I know I’m sick. But be honest – would you want me any other way? I don’t think so!

An edge an hour meant a lot of masturbating so the first day when I was back in gear, the first thing I did upon waking, was edge. I knew exactly what I needed to do that day. I had it all planned out. And despite my sexual urge and desperation, I was able to do the edge correctly and with no accidental orgasms. One down, fifteen more to go.

It was five ten in the morning and I had a lot of chores still to do so I grabbed my RVP (Rotating Venus Penis) a mechanical motorized vibrating and spinning toy I sometimes inflict upon myself, strapped it on (and pushed it in), and then proceeded to get dressed in my usual morning attire: blue jeans, socks, boots, bra, and an old tee shirt. No one else was up and I waltzed outside to the barn. I didn’t turn on the RVP. That would have been insane. At least at that point. So I proceeded to do my chores and when I was about half way done, I glanced down at my watch, noted the time, and grabbed the RVP remote.

The interesting thing about the RVP is that it has two functions. The first is the standard vibrator. It causes the whole thing to shake, which includes not only the four inch plastic cock that was stuck up inside me, but also the platform it was attached too. This was an issue because the front of the RVP platform rubbed against my clit – intentionally I might add – so that even on low it wasn’t long before I was close to cumming. Of course the second function was a bit more diabolical. The cock spins. Yes. Absolutely. SPINS. It’s the strangest feeling I’ve ever experienced in my pussy and I’ve fucked some amazing things before. But that spinning cock drives me up a fucking wall. I can handle the vibrations easy, maybe even thirty or forty minutes. More if I’ve just cum. But that spinning cock? No way. Not even for five minutes can I handle that.

Which is why I turned it on.

I continued on with my chores until it got to be too much. I dropped the goat feed bucket, grabbed the remote and waited. My loins tightened up, my pussy pulsed, my chest heaved and I knew I was close. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, when I felt like falling into bliss itself, I turned off the RVP and bit my lip. I held my breath but I didn’t realize I was doing it until it came out explosively. My hips churned, shaking, while my pussy tried desperately to fuck the four inch plastic cock that was no longer spinning or shaking. My body screamed in want and need and I forced my brain to say “no. You can’t have it right now.” That was so hard.

It left me panting, but I manage to hold it all in. So with a grin I straightened up, finished feeding the goats, and went about my business.

The third edge of the day was right before breakfast, upstairs in my bedroom. Again I used the RVP to bring myself quickly and powerfully right to the edge, standing on that cliff looking out over sexual release. I got really close and then turned it off again.

I know, you’re sitting there going “wow, I can’t believe she managed not to cum!” Well give me some credit. I’ve done edges before… at least to an extent.

Breakfast was easy and nothing happened and before long I headed out to reposition the Roberts irrigators. Of course I saddled up Star and along the way my time for another edge came, so I turned on the RVP, dialed up both sliders to maximum, and vibrated and spun my way to the edge of the CLIFFS OF ORGASM!

And I fell off.

It was actually rather dramatic. Never ever ride a horse while wearing an RVP on full power, with both functions active, when you’re trying to edge. It’s not so much about willpower, as it is about timing and movement. By the time I got my hands from the reigns to the remote, it was too late. Add in the jouncing gait of my horse, and it was a lose lose situation no matter what. So I exploded. Wetly. Noisily. Then I keeled over the saddle horn as the orgasm sent a flood of endorphins and adrenaline through my system and the afterglow of bliss followed. Oh God it felt so good.

Now you would think I would have faith in myself, right? But to be honest, I suspected that something like this might happen, which is why I fished the three alligator clamps out of my jean pocket. Two of the clamps, the smaller ones, were connected by a steel chain. The third clamp was jumbo sized, easily the length of my forefinger. I got down off of Star, tugged up my tee shirt, pulled up my bra to expose my breasts, and calmly and deliberately attached both small clamps to my bosom.

I won’t lie to you. It hurt. Alligator clamps always do. They’re designed to hurt. Pain shot up through both breasts and I winced, brow narrowing as I unbuttoned my jeans. I pushed them down along with my pink panties, exposing my ass and pussy to a bunch of locusts, a few cicadas, and that stupid damn emu I can never seem to catch when I’m actually trying. I swear, one of these days I’m just going to shoot the thing.

I glanced down at my watch as I attached the third alligator clamp. It went on my clit, which was like giving me a paper cut and pouring lighter fluid on it, then lighting it. Fuck lemon juice. I BATHE in lemon juice after paper cuts! Oh did it hurt and while I stood there and shook, unable to pull my panties back up, much less the jeans, I said to myself “this is what I get for cumming. This is what I get for cumming,” over and over.

Fifteen minutes later I was yelling like a banshee out in the middle of one of our fields, enjoying the unusual freedom of being able to be vocal when I took off the clips. Normally I have to stifle my screams because it will draw attention. Okay… so I still drew SOME attention. Star didn’t like me screaming as the blood went back into my crushed and bitten nipples, and the stupid emu stood by several feet away staring at me. I removed the alligator clamp on my clit, screamed again, and then when I was sufficiently recovered, put all three alligator clamps in my pocket, pulled my pants up, and went on.

I set up a few of the irrigators and had another round of “let’s stimulate Breanne to the point of insanity”, but I managed not to cum. The memory of my clit and nipples being cruelly crushed by the alligator clamps were enough to keep me from going over the edge. It probably also helped that I wasn’t riding Star at that point too.

Another close edge found me back at the barn around lunch time and after I had once again skirted the cliff, standing on my toes looking down over the edge, I went inside, just a tad bit flushed and rather desperate. See, that’s the problem with edging. Every time you do it, you get just a little bit more focused, just a little bit more daring, just a little bit more needy. It feeds on itself. You edge and you edge and eventually you get to the point where it doesn’t matter if you fall off the cliff. It doesn’t matter if you hurl yourself out, base jumping down in free fall, just as long as the orgasm you have is relief.

Which is why after lunch I had my second orgasm of the day. I was out in the barn when it happened and for the second time that day I pulled out my alligator clamps and attached them where they needed to go. I pulled my shirt and bra up, attached the clips, then shook as I pulled down my jeans and panties, pushed the RVP out of the way a bit, and then let the jumbo clamp latch down on my clit.

Then I did something stupid. I turned the RVP back on.

It didn’t SEEM stupid when I did it. I was hurting. I had already cum and I thought that a little bit of sexual stimulation might be enough to help me handle the pain. And to be honest, it DID help me handle the pain. In about two minutes I went from sitting on a hay bale with my clothes askew, grimacing with my eyes screwed shut, too laying back on the hay bale, kicking off my jeans, spreading my legs, and riding both the RVP and the alligator clamps up the mountain. I wasn’t taking the jeep trail either. I was riding the ski lift and it was going fast.



As it was, it went too fast because as I approached the edge, I realized there was no way to stop in time. My fingers were actually TUGGING on the clamp between my legs while my other hand had the chain between my nipples wrapped around my palm. The RVP was on full power, both spinning and shaking and I didn’t even try to stop. I just exploded in a super wet squirt that splattered my jeans and panties and had me keening loudly.

When the adrenaline and endorphins finally ebbed away, my clit and nipples were throbbing and the pain hit me with a wallop that was worse than any spanking. I went from oooohhh aaahhhh to oowwwww oohooooh GOD! FUCK! It was agony. I left the RVP on for a bit longer, hoping to get back SOMETHING that would cushion me from the alligator clamps, but it didn’t work out real well. I had just had two orgasms and I was hurting. By the time I felt something stir inside me again, I had already gone ten more minutes.

A bit later I turned off the RVP and then gingerly pinched open the clamps one at a time. My right nipple looked awful. Red marks across the top and bottom were vivid and deep and I thought I might have burst a few capillaries in there as well. It was sore and tender to the point that just touching it made me wince. Then I removed the left nipple clamp. This time I KNEW I had broken a blood vessel because there was a tiny drop of blood on my nipple, along the side. My breasts throbbed even after I took off the clamps. That hurt stayed with me for HOURS. Of course I still had to take off the jumbo alligator clamp, and that one was about as bad as it comes.

If you are a girl reading this, you know how sensitive we are. Guys might not understand that. They really can’t because they have different sensitivities that while are just as deep, don’t translate well. A girl’s clit is like a tiny penis. That’s why we like you guys to lick it so much. It’s very sensitive and if you happen to be a nympho humiliation pain slut, it’s a perfect spot for torture. Now usually, I don’t clamp my clit directly. Especially with the alligator clamp. Usually I clamp the clitoral hood, which is a bit less sensitive. That way I can tolerate it. Don’t worry, I’m still getting my clit in there, it’s just not quite as bad as it could be.

Not that that’s an invitation to change my marching orders. I don’t want you to think that the next assignment should read “you are to apply a clothespin to both your clit and your clitoral hood,” or something like that.

When I had finally recovered from the clamping, I found that it was practically time to edge again. I used the RVP and my fingers and found that the pain I was still feeling from the clamps was enough to keep me from doing anything stupid.

That was probably the lightest and least provocative edge of the entire day, which is sort of disappointing I know, but it’s the way it was. We have to deal with it. To be honest, it wasn’t a bad thing. I managed to get myself in gear and head out and get some more watering done.

An hour later I was out in a field near the water pump, leaning against the pipe, my jeans and panties down around my ankles, sprinting toward the cliff edge. I gasped as I got close, worked a single finger down to my clit, pinched it lightly, and then turned off the RVP. I slid the last few feet toward the edge, my fingers metaphorically scrambling in the dirt as I slid to a stop, gasping, my feet dangling over the abyss.

That happened a few more times before dinner, but I managed each time to hold on. I even discovered a trick. Since my clit was already so sore, if I gave it a really hard pinch about thirty to forty seconds before I felt like I was going to cum, I could hold back. It worked nicely.

Eventually I ended up back at the house, had dinner, went through another two quickie masturbation sessions thanks to evening chores, and then finally got ready for bed. My parents were downstairs watching television and I finally had a moment to myself. I was no longer in my work clothes, having showered (while edging) and was now dressed in a nightgown. I lay down on my bed, turned the RVP, which I had put BACK in after my shower, and let the slow sensuous pleasure take me.

I was getting close when there was a knock on my bedroom door and I jumped in surprise. My fingers scrambled for the RVP controller and I quickly turned the damn thing off. I smoothed down my nightgown, covering up my groin and then said “come in?”

To my surprise, it was my dad. He walked in, one hand clutching his cane. And he shut the door behind him.

The number of times my dad has been in my room is very tiny. First of all, he’s got a really bad right leg. Out and about he uses a walker. At home he can get away with a cane because of the way we’ve got the furniture arranged and we’ve got rails up and down the staircase. He got hit by a drunk driver my last year of college.

Usually my dad splits his day between upstairs and downstairs. Sleeping and getting showered is upstairs. Working is downstairs. Dad handles the farm’s finances and some other things while I do all the cumming and going. LOL…. Get it? CUMMING and going?

Uh.. yeah.. okay.

So it was a bit of a surprise to see him. Or maybe not. Things have gotten a bit… weird… in my relationship with dad. Ever since he started reading Michael’s BDSM Blog where I post my… um… adventures… he’s been a lot more interested in my daily activities. He hasn’t been… intrusive, or anything. But he’s made comments that had lots of innuendo, or asked me about certain things in private. It’s a little difficult being an adult, who is a nympho humiliation pain slut, while also being daddy’s girl.

“Last edge for the day?” he asked politely, pulling out my desk chair. He sat down with a heavy thump.

I didn’t want to move. “Where’s mom?” I asked.

He smiled. “Downstairs. She wanted to finish the movie.” He nodded in the general direction of my pussy. “Don’t let me stop you.”

I knew what he wanted, but felt just a bit self-conscious. Wouldn’t you if you were asked to masturbate in front of your own father?

But like I said, things have gotten… complicated… between me and my dad. He knows what I am. He knows what I’ve been doing, and while he hasn’t taken advantage of any of it, he also knows the Rules for NHPS. He knows Rule #2. I didn’t want him to have to invoke it, because if he did I was worried that he would ask for more than just a show.

So I plucked the RVP controller out from under my hip and turned it back on. In moments I was shaking. My pussy reacted typically for what was being done to it, but having an audience… that changed things quite a bit. I felt humiliated that I was being watched like this and when my dad lifted his cane and pushed on my ankle, spreading my legs to give him a view, it was like fireworks going off between my legs.

The edge of the cliff rushed toward me as I was hurled up. My open thighs twitched and my fingers reached for the RVP control to turn it off before I could cum. But when I put my hand where it was supposed to be, my hand found bare coverlet. I opened my eyes again and glanced down. The controller was gone, pulled downward toward the end of the bed, my dad’s cane hooked to it.

Now I had NOT turned the RVP all the way up. I’m not stupid. There’s no way I can handle that. Not for edging. Sure, I put some spin on it. Sure, I let it vibrate. But it was never higher than medium. And before I could reach down, my dad had the damn thing in his hand and cranked both sliders up to their maximum settings.

My loin exploded violently as the four inch plastic cock inside me doubled it’s speed. The vibrations rocked me, and it was everything I could do to keep QUIET. You can forget about edging. I got blasted off the cliff and catapulted far out, my hips jerking wildly. It was amazing and easily the most powerful and most awesome orgasm of the day.

And my dad gave it to me. That’s just wrong.

He turned down the RVP when it became clear I had cum, and cum hard, but he didn’t turn it off. Instead he actually got up, walked around the bed to where the alligator clamps were sitting, in plain sight, on my nightstand. I had totally forgotten them.

“Oops. Looks like you came, sweetheart. You know what that means.” He picked up the nipple clamps, the handle of his cane going to the hemline of my nightgown. I shuddered as he pulled, but then lifted my ass up off the bed so he could pull it up. I wasn’t wearing any panties, just the RVP, but technically it did cover me. The nightgown came up farther and then I felt it slip over my breasts, exposing my hard nipples to the air.

I braced myself. What else could I do? I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see. I felt his hand on me, pushing, squeezing my left breast, plumping it. I clenched my jaw, not wanting to scream when the clamp bit me.

But it wasn’t the clamp. It was something soft and wet and it circled around my nipple before the tender nub was suckled hard. Then his mouth lifted and the clamp was deftly and perfectly placed. Pain shot through me hard and I almost yelled. His large left hand found my other breast and then the second clamp went on. I was shaking. It hurt so much.

I was still wrapped up in the pain when he took the jumbo alligator clamp and lifted the front edge of the RVP away from my clit. I wasn’t ready and this time I did cry out, only to have my father’s hand clamp down over my mouth as I screamed. The pain was incredible. My father had placed the jumbo alligator on my clit, not the clitoral hood, but the actual clit. Then he turned the RVP up to high.

“I hope you cum again, Bre. Night night. Sleep tight.” He bent down and kissed me on the forehead, and then limped off, running his hand over my breast, down my side, all the way too my toes. I was still twitching on the bed when he left the room, closing my door behind him.

It took a minute to find the RVP remote, but I managed to turn it down and settle. I lay there for my full fifteen minutes, suffering through the pain but still terribly horribly turned on. When it was done I wasted no time, took off the alligator clamps, winced and hissed my way through the pain, and turned off the RVP.

Four orgasms. So much for controlling myself, right? But that’s not the worst part about the whole thing. See, this assignment isn’t just for one day.

Breanne - Of course, I suspect you will no doubt need additional incentive NOT to cum, so if you should cum even once on day one, you will complete a second day of edges, one for each hour, plus an additional edge for every orgasm you gave yourself the day before. Fit the extra edges in where you will. Should you again cum during any of your second day edges, you will not only apply the alligator clamps to your clit and nipples, but you will also forcibly insert a lubricated anal plug into your ass. This should be done quickly in order for the penetration to be painful. The plug will be removed along with the alligator clamps at the end of fifteen minutes.

Should you cum even once on the second day, you will complete a third day of edges, one for each hour, plus an additional edge for each of the orgasms you had on both the first and second days. Punishment for cumming on the third day will be the alligator clamps on nipples and clit, the anal plug in your ass, with the added torment of dripping hot wax on your clamped nipples and clit.

So how has today been going? Well I’ve already edged four times and I’m about to do my fifth. I haven’t cum yet and I’m still wondering how I’m going to squeeze in an extra four edges. Twenty edges in one day? That’s insane! I’m still in my RVP. It’s off right now. But it won’t be in a moment.

And then we’ll see what happens. Won’t we?