Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Walking the Mall Will Never Be the Same


It was like she KNEW. Beats me how she knew. I didn’t tell her what day, just that “this is what I have to do.” How does Kari know? Beats me. But it’s like she WANTED me overly aroused, too wet, and set up for failure. It seems to be a common condition for all my masters or mistresses. Why bother to give Breanne a fucking chance when it’s so much more fun to watch her fail miserably?

The vibroballs had been stuffed up inside me since before five am that day, buzzing away on low, with the stipulation that I not cum. That in and of itself isn’t that bad of a torment since I’m relatively used to the low intensity vibrations from that particular toy. Sure… the whole day? Probably not, but I could easily last four or five hours, maybe even longer depending on the circumstances, before it getting dangerous for me. Of course Kari planned for that too. If I got close, and I mean like almost an edge close, I was to turn off the vibroballs for twenty minutes. The idea being that I stay desperate, rather than sexually satisfied.

It was nine thirty in the morning and I was parked on a gravel strip next to the farm to market road which runs behind our ranch. It’s not exactly a busy road, which is good because at that particular moment I was completely naked, standing in the buff, removing the ben wa balls. My regular clothes, the blue jeans, tee shirt, bra and panties, even my socks, were carefully folded and laid out on the hood of my truck. My new outfit was there too, ready and waiting, as soon as I stuffed the Husky dildo up inside myself.

I like my Husky dildo. It’s nine inches of firm but pliable rubber, flesh toned, and cast in the shape of a rather well endowed man’s cock. It’s the kind of sex toy you can really sink your… uh… you can really sink INSIDE your self. I like it because it feels good, isn’t TOO big, unlike my Core Driller dildo, and it even comes with a chopped off pair of half balls which makes a nice big base to allow it to stand upright when needed. Of course the Husky dildo has its draw backs as well. For example, it won’t stay in by itself. Either I need to have my vaginal muscles clamped tight around it (non-stop), or I need to be wearing some panties or shorts, preferably both depending on how deep you want it inside me. Hell, on laundry days I’m normal attired in a skirt and panties. Every time I stand up, the Husky dildo slides about four to five inches out of my pussy. Then when I sit back down, well you can imagine what THAT feels like.

My pussy was soaked thanks to Kari’s manipulation of my daily sex toy. I have to follow NHPS Rule #1 which basically says that I have to have something in my pussy 24/7. It’s not an easy rule to follow, but it can be a fun one. Where it gets interesting is when you get a sadistic master or mistress who likes screwing with the stipulations of whatever toy you’re wearing. It makes a difference. So when I slid that Husky in there, it was really easy. I tightened every muscle between my legs as I struggled to pull on the tee shirt I was planning on wearing. It was a simple light pink shirt with “Help Wanted!” written in bold across the front, along with several stick men figures (I suppose with stick WOMEN figures, though you couldn’t tell) in a variety of compromising positions. Underneath the pictures of stick figures having sex, the words “Many positions available. Start right away!” made things about as embarrassing as possible. I have a whole collection of tee shirts like this. Kari bought them to humiliate me. They work really well.

It took a moment to adjust my breasts properly. I’d have been doing that even had my right nipple NOT be sporting a twenty four karat gold plated ring, complete with a gold plated, rose engraved padlock. Granted, the stupid hardware was small, but with my tee shirt being as tight as it is, the outline of my piercing and padlock are immediately and easily recognizable. On the flip side, it definitely serves as a conversation starter.

Still keeping the dildo up inside myself, I slipped the blue denim skirt up over my ass. It wasn’t exactly too short, but it wasn’t exactly respectable either. It was clearly a “please look at my ass” skirt, the kind that covers everything but encourages you to keep your eyes locked on a person’s below the waist movements. It wasn’t tight either. I wouldn’t exactly be doing the splits in that skirt, but I could have certainly taken a full length stride in it, and not shown my goods.

Of course the Husky dildo would in all likelihood fall out if I DID take such a big step.

Which is what this was all about. If you read my LAST little tale then you might already know what I did last week. It was a simple assignment really. Wear a skirt and sexy tee shirt, no bra, no panties, and walk around the mall with my Husky dildo stuffed up inside me. The idea was to strength my pussy, since I’d have to keep it tight the entire time. Of course there were some rules about what happens if it falls out. Needless to say, Master Barrett, who had assigned the task to me, was not too happy about how things turned out. His assigned punishment was to do the task again. Except this time things were going to be a lot harder.

So… like… if I FAIL at an assignment, why should the punishment for failing the assignment be to do the assignment AGAIN, except this time making it harder so it’s even MORE LIKELY I will fail?

First of all, wearing exactly the same outfit, I was to head back to the mall on a slow day. And I needed it to be a day that I knew Julie would be working. But this time I was to bring two additional toys: my butterfly clitoral vibrator and my alligator nipple clamps.

According to Master Barrett, the point of the initial assignment was to wear the Husky dildo for the entire hour I was there, and I screwed that up. So the “punishment” assignment was to rectify my mistakes from the first time. Remember the store greeter? The one in the sports store? Yeah, well I have to try and find him. And when I do …

But hey… why ruin the surprise?

Finally dressed I winced my way back to the cab of the truck, the hard pointed gravel digging into the soft soles of my feet. Once inside I was finally able to relax as I allowed my vaginal muscles to loosen, trusting to the vinyl seat of my truck to keep the Husky dildo buried firmly between my legs. Sometimes I wish the shocks on my truck weren’t quite as good as they are. I put the truck in gear and headed toward the mall.

As usual, I parked outside the Sports and Camping store. I like this place. Oh… not because I’m a big sports and camping girl, though I do enjoy that sort of stuff. Mostly I like it because I’ve had more sexual encounters in this one store than any other at the mall. I’ve had sex in the dressing rooms, some of the large boats on display, in the stock room, even behind a sales counter. It’s been a good place to get laid.

Of course, I also fell once, right at the door, after twisting violently in an attempt to prevent a nine inch, well lubricated dildo from falling out of my pussy. I failed miserably, ending up on my ass, with my legs spread wide, my skirt practically around my waist, while completely showing my sex to a very surprised middle aged, gray haired guy who was assigned to greet guests at the entrance.

It was imperative that I find him. Master Barrett had made it very clear that if I dropped the dildo at any time I had to hand it to someone, a stranger, and ask them to put it back in as well as give my ass twenty firm and painful spanks. As it was, Master Barrett felt that if anyone deserved to help me out, it was this man, the greeter. So after putting on my stupid fuck me high heels, and with a trembling heart and an already aching pussy, I walked my way into the sports store, praying that I would be lucky, that he’d be there.

My heart fell almost all the way down to my stomach when instead of being greeted by my older gentleman, I was given a look of repugnance and surprise from the cute little teenage girl who was greeting guests. She didn’t even bother to say hello, which I thought was quite rude. Of course I was mortified at my attire. You have to understand, I DON’T like dressing like this. I hate it. I’m the center of attention, and it’s not GOOD attention.

The rest of "Waking The Mall Will Never Be The Same" by Breanne Erickson is now available in her novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 5"  Check it out today!

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