Wednesday, May 2, 2012

If The Shoe Fits, Fuck It



            It was already a hot day with an expected high near or at ninety degrees.  At ten am, it was just approaching eighty five and already I was feeling a bit sticky.  Some of that wasn’t exactly due to the temperature, but that probably doesn’t surprise you.  I shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, wishing I hadn’t put on the damn high heels until AFTER I had arrived at the shoe store.

            I was dressed appropriately.  Appropriately for a nympho humiliation pain slut though.  The halter top I was wearing was thin cotton, bright red, and the outline of my left nipple was not just readily apparent, but was exact in every way.  I might as well just poured paint over my chest.   The right breast was even worse.  Not only was the small bump of my nipple tightly molded by the cloth, so was the gold metal hoop piercing it, not to mention the small charm sized padlock that dangled down.  Talk about conversation starters.

From the waist down I was just as tightly wrapped.  A narrow band of black material, no longer than five and a half inches from the waistband to the hem, tried, pitifully, to hide my slit from view.  As it was, sitting down, the bright purple semi-transparent mesh of the thong I was wearing was completely visible, and the puffy and glossy petals of my sex were just as apparent. 

I was also following nympho humiliation pain slut Rule #1, which states quite simply that I am not allowed to have my pussy empty at any time.  Sure, a cock is the most desirable object that my betters wish to have inside me, but failing my being mounted to a table at a bar while gang banged, I usually have to settle for some sex toy.  In my case, my triple vibroballs, three plastic oval shaped vibrators were quite happily nestled deep inside me.  They were off of course, but that would soon change.  In addition to the vibroballs, my bottom was following Rule #1 too.  Eight black beads, each connected with a thick latex covered wire and containing a micro-motor, had been stuffed up my ass. These too were off, but I still felt the thick, full sensation that I absolutely hated.

            I pulled up and put the truck in park.  Things were still quiet, not very busy, and the shoe store had opened only minutes before.  I glanced around to take stock and realized that waiting only made it more likely that I’d be spotted.  My hand dug through my large bag and extracted the small bottle of oil.  With a delicate finger, I slipped my thong slightly aside, extracting a good portion of the tiny sliver of material out of my wet pussy and exposing my clit and labia.  The wire to the vibroballs was just as easy to move around and as my finger grazed my clitoris, I moaned softly.  I was terribly turned on.  Unimaginably so.  I popped the top of the oil bottle off with a snap and then poured a liberal amount onto my clit.  An extended finger spread the oil mixture around and in seconds I felt the cool tingle of the Stinging O begin its burning interaction with my nervous system.

            I didn’t bother putting my thong back in place, leaving it to the side of my protruding petals.  Instead, I reached up to my halter top and tugged downward, allowing both breasts to pop free.  Supported by the stretch cotton, I dabbed more oil on the nipples, allowing my bosom to join my pussy on the chemically enhanced torment train.  The tingle set my libido humming though and leaving my breasts hanging out, I dug through my bag a second time.

            It’s a love hate relationship I have with the alligator clamps.  The first two are a set, small metal toothed electrician’s clamps that have been slightly altered (reducing the bite to something tolerable and less likely to make me bleed) that are connected by a silver chain.  I’ve almost gotten used to wearing these cruel pincers and you’d think I’d be more enthusiastic about putting them on.  But as usual, I had to force myself, cupping my left breast first, pinching open the clamp, my eyes locked on the semi-sharp metal teeth, watching as I slowly allowed the jaws to clamp down on the extended nipple, biting, chewing, tearing into my flesh with a sharp sliver of pain.

            The other breast was harder.  I had to put the clamp on my nipple behind the piercing, an unpleasant prospect that made the right side of my chest throb painfully, out of proportion with my left side.  Then came the jumbo alligator clamp, a single shark like clamp, twice the size of the set intended for my nipples.  This one went down between my legs and I pinched it open and set it above my clitoral hood in one mad, crazy, insane moment of sexual desperation.

            Pain flooded through me and I ended up grabbing hold of the wheel and holding on for dear life as my body sped down the highway of agony and sexual need.  It took four or five minutes to master myself, all of which was spent with my breasts hanging out, perfectly visible to anyone passing by.  Had they been at my window, their eyes would no doubt have seen my clamped and shaven slit, wet and wanting, reacting not only to the pain of the jumbo alligator clamp, but to the burning need of the Stinging O.

            And I was only just getting started. 

            When I was sufficiently recovered, at least to realize that my breasts were on display, I turned on the vibroballs and vibrating anal beads.  The buzzing hum in my loins sprang to life and immediately I went from desperate and ouch to vehement need and “oh fuck yes!”  It’s a delicate balance.  My fingers pulled my thong outward and placed it as gently as possible over my clit, hiding, or perhaps merely accentuating the shape of the alligator clamp as well as my fat pussy lips. 


This tale is no longer available on the blog and can be found in Breanne Erickson's e-book anthology "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 6"

Don't forget to visit the "BreanneApedia" for all things Breanne Erickson related!



Breanne – Today’s assignment is simple.  First of all, you will dress appropriately for a nympho humiliation pain slut.  This means a simple, tight, minimal halter top that appropriately displays your breasts to their maximum advantage.  Second, you will wear your microskirt, the “skort” Kari so kindly chopped the “shorts” portion out of years ago.  In the spirit of legality, you may, if you choose, wear a thong under the skirt, but it must be your narrowest, sexiest, most transparent thong.  Lastly, you will wear your “fuck me” shoes, the crystal eight inch heels.

In order to follow NHPS Rule #1, you must be stuffed with your triple vibroballs as well as your vibrating anal beads.  During the assignment, both vibrating toys will be set to their lowest level provided you don’t experience an unauthorized orgasm.  You will also prepare yourself by coating not only your clit, but labia and nipples with Stinging O.  Lastly you will apply your alligator clamps, all three, to the appropriate spots.  Yes, I know this will hurt.

You will proceed to visit a shoe store – the old full service kind.  You will allow the attendant to measure your feet, making sure the attendant gets a full view of your assets.  You may not verbally ask for sex.  However, if the attendant offers, you may allow him or her to remove your thong, the jumbo alligator clamp, and your vibroballs in exchange for a foot fuck.  You MUST fuck his or her foot FIRST.  After you cum, you may engage in traditional sex

- Master Mark


Breanne is the author of the popular BDSM series "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut" and the controversial BDSM Lesbian romance "The Society of the Golden Rose."  Explore her writing at our website and check out her other free works at our Free Story Archive!

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