Chains of Bondage

02/02/12

            Sometimes I get some unusual emails.  Granted, almost all the emails I get are sexual in nature, and that might just be unusual in and of itself, at least for most people.  But I’m not most people.  I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut and there are LINES of people who work overtime just trying to find interesting and painful ways to make me jump through sexual hoops.  As Master Brandon explained to me, the “nympho” part of my title means I need to have sex with multiple objects and/or people each day.  The “humiliation” aspect indicates that said sexual acts should be as embarrassing and public as possible.  The “pain” part, he says, is incredibly simple, since it means I should be screaming and possibly in the throes of agony during the sex acts as well. As for “slut?”  That means I do it all for the pleasure at of others, free of charge.

           

            Yesterday morning started out with me waking up a bit earlier than usual.  What can I say? I had trouble sleeping.  Probably that was because my TOTM (time of the month) ended the previous day and I had politely called Kari to let her know.  Her response was predictable, at least to an extent, and I had promptly been ordered to follow NHPS Rule #1, which states quite clearly that I, as a nympho humiliation pain slut, needed to keep either cock or a sex toy stuffed inside me.  Since it’s tough to walk around while being repeatedly screwed by some sweet guy, I had to go with the sex toy.

            Kari’s preference had been my triple vibroballs on high, except with a twist.  The third bullet wasn’t to be “inserted”.  Instead, I was to wear a pair of tight panties and bullet number three was just to be nestled at the top of my slit, right above my clit.  I had never worn them like that before and when Kari also said that I needed to keep them on high unless I was close to cumming, I knew I was in for a rough time.  Of course Kari also told me that if I got close to cumming, I had to turn off the vibroballs completely for thirty minutes.  When my thirty minutes were up… guess what?  Right.  Back to high.

            So I got to spend all of Monday afternoon and evening doing the vibrational equivalent of edging and by Tuesday morning I was in a state.  I woke up so desperate that I would have screwed anything vaguely shaped like cock.  Corn on the cob, a steel pipe, hell… I was horny enough that I might have actually considered a cactus had one been readily available.

            Kari’s email on Tuesday morning had me wearing my Husky dildo, which I slipped in obediently.  But I also received ANOTHER email, from a friend named Anna, along with a picture.  The picture wasn’t exactly indecent, but it was very sexual.  Anna asked that I explain, in detail, what it felt like to have a chain on like that.  I forwarded the email to Kari, since she approves my assignments.  Then I pulled up my panties and shorts, wriggled my hips to set the Husky dildo inside me, and went and took care of the critters.

           

            When I got back to the house a little after seven, Kari’s response was waiting for me.  “Do it,” she said, but not like the picture.  Kari said that the chain needed to be against bare skin, padlocked tight, and that I should replace the Husky dildo with my Core Driller Dildo.  Furthermore, she added a bit more torture.  You see, for the past month, I’ve been doing Kari’s assigned “New Year’s Resolution”, which basically had me completing thirty minutes of direct clitoral stimulation… okay… TORTURE to myself.  I’ve done ice.  I’ve done vibrations. I’ve done clamps.  I’ve done rubber bands.  I’ve done Stinging O.  Whippings.  Hot wax.  Clamps and weights.  Tacks.  Water torture.  Straddling the fence.  Binding.  God knows what next month will be like.  For Tuesday she added a simple clamping.  With a binder clamp.  During the assignment.

            And since Anna hadn’t added any specifics, Kari did.

            Later that morning, still stuffed with the Husky dildo and wearing a tee shirt, khaki shorts, a bra, and of course my blue and white flowered bikini cut panties, which was holding in a nine inch long flesh colored cock, I hopped into my truck.  First, I groaned.  You try jumping into any seat while impaled with a nine inch rubber rod.  But then immediately after, I stuck the keys into the ignition and took off. 

           

            My destination was simple and frankly I was looking forward to it.  I had called Mike earlier, letting him know I was coming and he had been ecstatic.  Mike is the manager of a small local hardware store and we’ve had a few fun times together. Frankly, he takes care of some of the more esoteric assignment requirements, and since this one required padlocks and about three feet of steel chain, I knew I would need his help.

           I arrived at the hardware store a few minutes later with my pussy throbbing and with my desperation level maxed out.  I hadn’t had an orgasm in five and a half days and trust me, I was ready to pop in a way that would make July 4^th fireworks appear lame.  I grabbed my little bag, which held my bottle of grapeseed oil and my Core Driller Dildo, not to mention a one inch binder clamp, and went into the store.

            Mike was ready for me and greeted me with a kiss.  A warm wet kiss.  Right in front of his cashier.  I didn’t mind.  If he wanted it known I was his girlfriend or something, I didn’t care.  In any event, Mike led me through the store and let me drop my bag in his office.  Of course, the moment we were back there and alone, Mike asked for the compensation I had offered him.  I laughed.

           

            “Wouldn’t you rather have me suffering first?” I asked playfully.

            Mike grinned.  “How about both?”  He gave me a tight hug and whispered in my ear. “God, Bre… I want you so bad!”

            I grimaced.  I wanted him too, but I knew if I let him take out the Husky dildo and slip his cock in, I’d be cumming in seconds.  And I KNEW that Kari wouldn’t be pleased.  It’s one thing to fail because you’ve been set up to fail.  It’s another to just deliberately ignore the intent of your master or mistress.  But I could see his need and want and after suffering the same kind of desire for almost an entire day, I bit my lip, pushed my shorts and panties down my thighs, and bent over his desk.

            “Fuck me in the ass, then. I won’t cum from that,” I said.  I even helpfully handed him my grapeseed oil and he lubed himself in about two nanoseconds.  My rear end was already lubricated.  When you are a NHPS that’s something that just comes with the territory every morning.  Trust me, when you never know when something might be going in the back door, you make sure the hinges are well oiled.  I felt Mike’s hard cock press against me and I grit my teeth, relaxing and opening up.  He slipped in and I only felt the mild discomfort of being penetrated anally.  My clamped hard around the Husky dildo and I groaned as Mike thrust deep.

            His thighs pushed against the Husky dildo too and while it wasn’t QUITE as good as getting doubled by TWO guys, it still stoked the fires inside me.  Fortunately Mike was really horny and sliding his cock through my bottom was more than enough to make him fill the condom with enough cream to fill an éclair.  I was lucky. I almost came just from the back and forth movement, Mike’s hands on my breasts, and the pressures of his repeated thrusts against the base of the Husky dildo.

            Mike pulled out with a groan, snapped the condom off and threw it in the trash.  Panting, I pulled up my shorts and panties, feeling as if I could drive a combine through my derrière.  I straightened with a groan even as Mike straightened his trousers. 

            “That was nice,” he said with a smile.

            I smiled back.  “You almost made me cum.”  It came out like an accusation.

            “I was trying.”

           

            My eyes widened.  “What?  I told you I wasn’t supposed to!”

            Mike shrugged.  “If you had, Kari would have had you punished, which I would have enjoyed anyway.”

            I gave him my Kermit the Frog annoyed look.  You know, the one where Kermit screws up his face in this look of consternation?

            Mike just laughed and took my hand, pulling me out of the office.  We made our way through the store and Mike led me to an aisle along the back where there were about eight spools of various steel chains.  Most were too small, but I quickly found the one that looked similar to the chain in Anna’s email.  I tapped it and Mike grinned.  He pulled a pair of heavy metal sheers out of a nearby cabinet, as well as a measuring string.  This he wrapped around my waist, and then up through my crotch, over my shorts.  Once he had things measured, he cut off a length of chain, discarded the severed link, and took me and the chain a bit farther down the aisle.  A single package containing two heavy padlocks, complete with matching keys found its way into his hand and then we headed back to his office.

           

            For the second time in thirty minutes, I pushed my shorts and panties down.  Except this time they went all the way down to my flip flop covered toes.  I guess you’re wondering why I was wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and flip flops at the beginning of February.  Well I live in south Texas. Near Houston.  It was a bloody 74 degrees and rainy!  In the middle of winter!  Sigh… I need to move to Colorado.

            Anyway I ended up naked from the waist down.  I spread my legs and caught the Husky dildo as it slipped out of my sex.  With Mike watching, I obediently brought it to my mouth and sucked it clean, licking my own juices off the thing like a perverted lollipop.  Mike watched in fascination and when I set the Husky dildo aside and opened my bag, he was ready.

            My Core Driller dildo is the largest phallus I own.  It is twelve inches long and tapers from an incredible two inches wide at the top to a pussy stretching four inches at the bottom.  The thing looks like a rocket ship and were I too paint it white and slap a “NASA” sticker on the thing, I could sell it in any children’s toy store without anyone blinking an eye. 

            Which is disturbing.  How many of YOUR daughter’s toys are actually designed to get her accustomed to handling cock?

            I didn’t bother lubricating the Core Driller dildo. I didn’t need it.  I was so wet, so open, so READY to be penetrated that you could have driven a bus into me and I would have been sufficiently moist.  Mike stared at my spread legs, my ass resting on his desk edge, one leg higher with my left foot resting on his chair, toes pointed, arch curved as if I were wearing six inch heels.  Then I slid those twelve inches of hard yet pliable rubber deep into my body with nothing more than a groan of satisfaction.

            Mike moved quickly.  As soon as the Core Driller was fully embedded, which is a feat of sexual engineering due to it’s length and width, he wrapped the chain around my bare waist.  The first padlock came out and two links were connected with the shank.  Mike had the chain tight enough to dig into my stomach and there would be no “slipping.”  Then he brought the other end of the chain down between the cheeks of my ass, reached between my legs, and with me propped up on his desk, threaded the chain through the large silver ring embedded in the bottom of the Core Driller dildo.

            That ring is really just a way to keep the Core Driller in.  Let’s face it, a pussy is a warm, wet, slippery place that is NOT designed to latch on to slick, rubber surfaced, narrow and cylindrical items and keep them there.  The idea is for them to go in, come out, go in again, and cum out.  Repeat if necessary.  So implanting a twelve inch monster phallus in me and expecting it to stay there without serious help is like hoping your car will run without gas.

            Mike’s threading of the chain through the mounting ring on the bottom made sure that if the chain was pulled taut, the Core Driller dildo would have no where to go, and wouldn’t even slip out and to the side of the chain.  Mike did just that a moment later, tugging the heavy links upward.  My labia felt pinched and I winched, my fingers moving down and helping him spread the petals to the sides of the steel links.  They were cold, unyielding, and terribly uncomfortable.  Things didn’t get better when Mike pulled upward with bruising force and then used the second padlock to finish off the metal harness.  Steel links dug into my pussy with angular pressure and I wiggled my hips, trying to deal with the sensation.  It didn’t hurt exactly, but only like getting your blood pressure taken doesn’t hurt exactly either.  I put my leg down and took a tentative step.

            Oh. My. Fucking. God.

            First of all, I was stuffed.  And when I say stuffed, I don’t mean decently filled.  I was stuffed to the point where I felt as if my entire pussy was going to explode.  The tip of the Core Driller poked harshly against my cervix and I’m pretty sure I could feel that phallus touching every single side of my pussy with equal intensity.  Ever have one of those inflatable dildos inside you?  Yeah well… that’s sort of what this felt like.  Except it still MOVED.  Just enough.  Each step it slid… oh… maybe half an inch.  Just enough to make you remember what it was, its length, its shape, its hardness.  Add to that the slow movement of the chain as it was drawn an inch through my slit, the heavy links digging painfully into my labia, and you can imagine what each step was like.

            Mike helped me back into my shorts.  We eschewed the panties.  Who needs them, right?  That’s when we discovered that my nice shorts, my little khaki tight shorts, couldn’t be buttoned and barely fit over my chained lower half.  Mike had to leave them open, the zipper down, exposing the chain and the top of my slit.  Mike laughed at my predicament.

            “I can’t go out like this!” I exclaimed, just a little wild eyed.

            Mike grinned.  “Can’t stay here either.”

            I spluttered.

            “What did Kari say you had to do?” he asked… again.

            I sighed.  He knew DAMN well what Kari had specified.  “After I’m stuffed and chained I have to go have lunch, where I’m supposed to sit in a quiet out of the way corner and do the clamping.”  I let out a little groan and wiggled my hips again.  Damn… that dildo was uncomfortable!

            Mike nodded.  “Well, it just so happens that I can take my lunch early.  So why don’t we go.  I know a great place just down the street where the booths are private enough.  Ready for some lunch?”

            No.  No I wasn’t ready for lunch! I was ready to cum.  I was ready to have the Core Driller yanked out of me.  I was ready to lie down on Mike’s desk, legs up in the air, and ready to have him fuck my brains out.  That’s what I really wanted.  My pussy hurt.  The metal had warmed up but the solid ovals of steel pushed and forced their way into my flesh, bruising the muscles and hurting in slow steady throbs.  Worse, my shorts were open in a way that while not officially indecent, certainly made it very clear that I was wearing a steel chain thong and if someone got close enough, like a couple of inches, they would be clearly able to see my clit smashed under the steel.

            Mike tolerated no argument from me, shoving my Husky dildo into my bag and taking my hand.  He pulled me from the office, each step a deep penetrating ache through my loins. By the time we passed the clerk at the cash register, I was close to hyperventilating.  The clerk looked down at me, the chain, my not quite exposed sex, and then nodded stupidly when Mike said he was going to lunch.  I was pulled from the store and out onto the street.

            Cars passed by and I imagined every single one of them staring at me. I’m surprised there wasn’t a traffic accident.  Driver inattention is a bad thing, isn’t it?  In hindsight, I realize that I was far enough away that no one would have been able to see much more than a glimpse of half unzipped shorts and something silvery underneath.  Mike drew me around past my truck and toward his.  Getting in was almost more than I could take and Mike had to tweak my nipple a few times to get me moving.  We drove four blocks and took a turn or two and then Mike pulled up in front of a small diner.

            Once again I waddled and limped my way around, following Mike as we went to a small booth in the very back of the diner.  A nice waitress came, took our order, and didn’t seem to notice that one of her customers had her shorts unzipped and was sporting something interesting between her legs.  As soon as she walked off, Mike opened my bag and handed me the binder clip.

            When Kari had proposed her “New Year’s Resolution” for me, not herself, I was a bit concerned.  Over the last month, I’ve gone from “concerned” to “fucking terrified.”  Not that I’m scared of that thirty minutes of clitoral torment, but knowing it’s coming, relentless (even during my TOTM), brutal, and vicious, with no other purpose than to hurt me, makes it tough for me to appreciate Kari’s cruelty.  That afternoon was no different.  With my left hand I opened my shorts even more, wiggling them down so that a good portion of both hips and even my ass was now bare, while my right hand took the binder clip from Mike.

            I pinched it open.  Then I tried to clamp it over the metal chain, letting the pincer ends of the binder clamp close on my clit.

            I clamped the chain.  Repeatedly.  It was just too tight.  My clit was nothing more than a smashed nub of tender flesh under the link.  There was no way to clamp it.  Mike understood the problem and handed me the key to the padlock at my waist. 

            “Unlock it, clamp your clit, then relock it,” he ordered.

            Um… yeah.  Right. 

            I unlocked the padlock and felt the immediate relief of pressure along my labia.  Even the Core Driller seemed more relaxed, looser inside me.  Then with trembling fingers I picked up the binder clamp again.  With the chain out of the way, my clit had popped out, swollen with sensitivity, and carefully, slowly, and quite deliberately, with clenched teeth, I pinched the clamp open and set it above my clitoris.

           

            When the clamp closed I felt a bolt of lightning, pain shooting up through my loins like a locomotive about to go over the cliff.  It hurt like hell.  But it also mixed with the sexual desperation I was feeling, which had already combined with the humiliation of being paraded around with my shorts unzipped and half down, my pussy plumped and spread by a thick steel chain!  I let out a whimper that hissed through my teeth and Mike grinned in appreciation.

            “Now lock the chain again, over the clamp,” he said.

            Fingers trembling I did as he asked, the pain making me bumble.  It took three or four tries just to get the shank of the padlock through the links again and then I pulled, driving the Core Driller deeper into my cunt and causing the binder clamp to twist slightly and move to the side.  The pain in my clit burst with fresh agony and then in a single mindless act, I shoved the shank of the padlock through a link dug into my belly and locked it.

            Pain.  It was a red haze.  My entire lower half throbbed.  I just hurt and hurt and hurt and even when lunch came I couldn’t do more than nibble.  My clit throbbed with every heartbeat and I finally put my hands down on the table and just concentrated on breathing.  At one point, the waitress even asked if I was okay, unable to see what was going on below the edge of the table. I grit my teeth and assured her I was fine, all while Mike dug into his sandwich and pretended as if my distress were nothing.

            The thirty minutes crawled by.  Mike pushed his plate forward after cleaning it and he handed me the key to the padlock again.  “Time to remove the clamp, Breanne,” he said.  I grabbed at the key and struggled to get it in the padlock.  It unsnapped and a fresh wave of pain rushed through my loins.  No doubt fresh blood, crushed nerves, and God knows what else set me up for THAT.  I practically ripped the clamp off my clit, remembering to pinch it open just before yanking it off.  Even then, I let out a soft wail of anguish as the blood rushed back into my crushed clitoris and I almost fainted.  The pain was incredible and I sat there, panting, trying to get a grip. 

            It took ten minutes, but I finally managed to come to terms with the sensations between my legs.  The burning spiked agony coming from my clitoris faded but didn’t disappear.  The Core Driller still pressed against my insides.  My ass ached from the steel rings pushing in ways that my rear end was never meant, by design, to handle.  I wriggled in my seat, trying to get my shorts up.  As usual, with me, failure is always an option.

            We stood.  My back had been to the rest of the diner when we went in and as I turned I realized that the place was packed now.  With my eyes wide in alarm, Mike pulled me through the crowd with my one free hand delicately held over my exposed and chained slit.  I know I attracted quite a few looks and I felt my cheeks flush in humiliation as Mike escorted me out of the restaurant and back into the truck.

            When we got back to the hardware store, Mike helped me up into the cab, kissed me tenderly, and then asked me to lift my shirt. I glared at him, but then rolled up my tee shirt.  Both breasts were bare and my nipples were hard little rocks.  He held up the padlock key, still attached to the little cheap metal ring.  He spread the key ring halves, and then using the ring itself like a clamp, attached it to my left nipple.  I groaned.

           

            “There, now you’ll be able to unlock yourself,” Mike said with a smile.

            I let out a whimper. “I need to cum.”

            Mike nodded. “What did Kari say?”

            I grimaced.  “To call her when I was done.”

            He shrugged.  “So call her and beg.”

            I plucked my phone out of my purse and quickly dialed.  Kari answered on the second ring.

            “Please Kari? I’m done.  Can I please cum now?” I begged.

            Kari merely laughed.  “How does it feel, being chained like that?”

            I whined. I couldn’t help it.  “It hurts, Kari.”

            “Are you desperate?” she asked.

            I nodded, then remembered she couldn’t actually see me.  “Yes Kari.  Please, I so need to cum!”

            “Well you have a choice.  You can go back in with Mike and let him fuck your brains out, but then you have to put the Core Driller back in and put the chain back on.”  She paused meaningfully, “and you’ll get punished tomorrow.  Seriously punished.”

            Then she presented her other option.  “Or you can go home and suffer and tomorrow will be non-stop cumming the whole day for you.  Your choice.  Let me know what you decided.”  Then she hung up.

            I tucked my phone back into my purse.

            “What did she say?” asked Mike.

            I took a deep breath.  “Fuck you now, then stuffed and chained again, with the promise of a horrible punishment tomorrow or…” I trailed off, my mind lost in thought.

            Mike looked at me quizzically.  “Or?”

            I shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter.  Let’s go to your office.”  I took his arm in mine and hauled myself out of the truck.  My shorts were unzipped all the way down and the pink folds of my sex bulged around the chain digging into my slit.  I groaned even as Mike shut my truck door, grinning in delight.  We ended up in his office, me naked, lying across his desk as he pounded me into sexual oblivion.

            So that’s it.  Yes, I wore the chain and the Core Driller for the rest of the day. It ached.  It hurt.  I’m STILL tender.  I waddled around like a moron except when I wrote the first half of this out.  But now things are a little more stressful, especially now that I’m almost done.  And I know the moment I finish this little tale, that a serious punishment is coming.  I’m not sure exactly what it is. I’m supposed to call Kari, but I know what she told me to have on hand; a steel chain, two padlocks, a binder clamp, my alligator clamps, and my Husky dildo.  Of course, there was one more item she wanted me to have ready, but not exactly on hand.  No, it’s been inside me since this morning.  It’s twelve inches of hard rubber, buried to hilt.  I’m the sheath.

            And I know it’s going to hurt.

Breanne Erickson is the author of five novels including the acclaimed "Society of the Golden Rose", a BDSM lesbian novel!  Check it out today!