Wednesday, July 18, 2012


   The dungeon had changed.  Oh… not by  a lot.  The wooden horse still stood near the door.  The classic metal and leather “I” bench was along the left wall.  The large side table was covered, as it routinely is, with an assortment of lit candles, paddles, saps, clamps, and other assorted knickknacks to be used on the victims present.  A heavy wooden “stock”, historically accurate of course, sat opposite the “I” bench.  Oh wait.  Should I call it an iBench?  LOL!  Wouldn’t that be funny?  Anyway, there was also the St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner.  All of that was the same.  But what was different was the item in the very center of the room.
                Last time I had been here, a device made by Mike the Hardware Guy had been sitting in the prime position.  It had been nothing more than a stool frame with the seat removed and a double dildo fucking machine set underneath.  Sitting on that “stool” had been incredibly uncomfortable, yet somehow rewarding.  But that’s another story and you can read about it elsewhere.  Needless to say, the stool and fucking machine were gone.  Instead there was a wooden pillar, in the same style as the stocks, yet a little rougher.  The base was just plywood and there was still a raw scent about the piece, as if it had just been put together and sanded the day before.  It sported a dark stain, but I could tell it still needed a waxing and a good polish.  At the top of the pillar was a crossbeam or support, padded in leather, and thick enough and long enough for me to sit on comfortably had someone helped me to keep my balance.
                For a moment I thought it was going to be another device to straddle, putting pressure on certain parts of my anatomy.  But as I was still contemplating the new addition to my mistress Kari’s dungeon, I got distracted.
                Just a little bit.
                Robert was groaning.  Kari’s live in boy toy, submissive male, and outright hunk is the kind of guy that most dominant women dream about.  He’s a day trader when Kari’s working and when she’s not, he’s the perfect submissive male.  He cooks.  He cleans. He works out.  He suffers for her sexually, allowing her to basically use him anyway she wants.  If Kari wants sex nine times in one day, then Robert will provide.  If she wants to milk him into fourteen orgasms, he takes it.  If she wants him to bring her to orgasm with just his tongue, then he tries.  If she wants to tie him to the St. Andrew’s Cross and whip his cock between oily hand jobs, then I get jealous.
                And that is just what was happening.  Robert was just as buck naked as I was, with both of us sporting the normal black leather bondage cuffs on our ankles and wrists.  His neck collar was thicker than mine, but it still sported the same silver colored metal rings.  The light ring of D link clips and chain flittered through the room and I watched with a lump in my throat as Kari’s hand slid along Robert’s cock.  The oil glistened and what I really wanted to do, right at that moment, was go over there, kneel down, and follow suit. I could just imagine my hands sliding down that thick pillar, stimulating Robert with ever increasing desperation, until finally he would erupt sending ribbons of thick white cum spooling out toward me.
                But I had been instructed to stand there, watching.  Robert was having trouble dealing with Kari’s ministrations, his cock bobbing and throbbing, clearly approaching the apex of need.  Kari teased the edge of his tip, literally twisting her hand around his shaft with a turn of her wrist, and making his eyes roll up into the back of his head.  As he gasped, she pulled her hand away, grabbed the multi-headed thong whip and brought it down across Robert’s penis and balls with a heavy swish that ended in a solid sounding  “thwack”.
                I would have immediately ripened myself if it hadn’t been for the fact that I was already soaked.  I’d been stuffed with my ben wa balls all day and ordered not to cum.  It hadn’t been that hard of course.  It takes more than just the constant rolling around of the two latex covered metal spheres to push me over the edge, but darned if it didn’t arouse me and keep me that way for practically the entire day.  And that’s the point, isn’t it?  To keep me ready?
                Kari continued to whip Robert until he lost his hard on which I though terribly cruel.  Then she laughed, turned to face me, and grinned.  I’ve seen that grin before, usually before I end up saying “owww!”  Kari took a few steps forward, her feet crossing at the ankles, her hips swinging.  I felt my heartbeat increase and I licked my lips in frightened anticipation.  Kari was wearing one of her normal “torture” outfits, a tight fitting leather combo of vest and pants that had the crotch cut out.  It left her female anatomy obviously exposed, while placing a sort of mystique around the rest of her.  There was no doubt about who was running things in that particular dungeon. 
                She grabbed my arm and pushed me up against the new wooden pillar.  I found myself staring across a few feet of space at Robert, who in turn was watching me.  Kari cuffed my hands behind my back, locking the heavy leather wrist cuffs together with a carbineer.  She moved me again and I felt the strain in my arms as she moved me so that the leather top of the wooden pillar was between my arms and my back.  I had to bend myself backward, looking up at the sky.  The high heels I was wearing, with four inch spikes, didn’t help and I felt a hard pressure in my shoulders and back.  I had to spread my legs wide just to keep things balanced.  Then Kari ran her hands down my arms and I was pulled even farther.  She locked my wrists half way down the pillar and nothing I could do made things easier.
                Looking at Robert made my neck ache so I ended up staring up at the ceiling.  Then Kari pulled out two short lengths of steel chain.  These were connected from the base of the wooden pillar to my ankles, ostensibly spreading me even farther.  My thighs trembled and I tried to put out of my mind, the knowledge of what was about to happen.
                Yes, I know.  It probably would have been better if I had been clueless, but this was an Assignment from Master H, and frankly no one sends assignments to KARI.  I’m the one that gets them.  So I knew what was coming.  Sort of.  It’s why I wasn’t to surprised when Kari slipped my butterfly clitoral vibrator around my waist and settled the plastic pink bug over my sex.  She turned it on too, to the highest setting, and in seconds my hips were rolling as my body tried to deal with both a day’s worth of arousal without climax and the immediate and intense stimulation of my clit.
                But that was just the beginning, because almost immediately after starting the coital earthquake between my legs, Kari hauled out a pair of clover clamps and latched them tightly on both nipples.  Pain rippled through me, sparking at the tips of my breasts to shoot down my spine.  The discomfort coalesced with the churning between my legs, and then enhanced, fortified, and doubled, it went straight to my brain.  A hook in the ceiling, another chain with D link attachment, and a step stool stolen from the wooden horse, enabled Kari to finish off my bondage.  I gasped as my breasts were drawn upward, the clamps tightening on my nipples.  I wasn’t exactly hanging by my breasts, but Kari tightened things until it was almost likely the clamps would snap off.  And if you are familiar with clover clamps, you know how tough it is to make that happen.
                My muscles burned, especially in my back, my calves, and my shoulders, but that was nothing compared to the pain at the tips of my breasts.  And that was entirely as Kari wanted.  I tried not to move but quickly found that impossible as the clitoral stimulator worked at me.  Kari stepped away, went to the small cupboard at the side of the room, and pulled out a purple wand.
                If you’re familiar with these devices, then you know that she not only plugged it in, but that it glowed.  Then with excruciating slowness, she brought it close to my clamped nipple.  I tried to brace myself, but she waited for me to relax again, moving the last five inches rapidly.  The electric shock hammered me, sending a very different feeling of pain through my breast.  She did it again before I had even recovered, except this time on the other nipple.  Then she spent the next few minutes touching me in various places with the purple wand; the underarms, my ribs, my ears, my labia.  Nothing was safe.  And through it all I was shaking like mad with desire.
                “Oh!  He’s ready!” Kari suddenly declared.  She put down the wand and returned to Robert.  Another coating of oil lubricated his cock nicely and Kari once more began long, full length, strokes, working Robert’s shaft with single minded intensity.  I was left to hurt and cum, watching when I could lift my head and listening to Robert’s groans of pleasure.  She forced him right to the edge again and as his face colored and I watched to see him pop, she suddenly let go, grabbed the purple wand, and touched it to the tip of his cock.
                Robert didn’t cum.   She zapped him repeatedly in the crotch, on his penis, and on his testicles.  No place was safe.  She tortured him until his dick was once again a small, frail, little worm.  He sagged in his bonds and she turned her attention back to me just in time to catch me clenching my teeth, exploding with a breath stopping explosion that had me reeling.  She moved behind me quickly and fiddled with something under my hands.  I felt a new pressure, a pull, and then my hands were cuffed even lower.  Finding an acceptable position was impossible.  I was bent awkwardly over that padded leather seat.  Not that I cared, at least not at that moment.  All I knew was that I had popped like a water balloon against a girl dressed only in white.  Perfect climax.  

                Bent even farther back over the pillar, my breasts now achieved a new height in pain.  I was a larger distance away from the hook in the ceiling and my bosom was now quite distended.  Something akin to lightning was flashing along my nerves and since Kari had deliberately NOT turned down the clitoral stimulator, I was rapidly approaching not only a second orgasm, but the dividing line between overstimulation and pleasure.  I shook like mad and Kari responded by taking one of the lit candles off the side table. I braced myself as Kari held the candle only six inches above my chest, and poured.  Liquid flame fell, bright red, Kari’s favorite color, to land in my cleavage. I felt the lava flow downward between my breasts, cooling as it went, but heating me just the same.  Then Kari moved the candle and drop fell onto my stretched breasts.  It burned and I couldn’t help trying to pull away.  The chain between me and the ceiling grew taut and the clover clamps seemed to tighten even more.  I cried out, my brain almost exploding as my body shook.   The sensation between my legs seemed to intensify and then I screamed in release, cumming with a shout that seemed to stun even Kari.  It lasted for what seemed like forever as I was carried along on a blissfully numbing cloud of endorphins and adrenaline.   The pain in my shoulders, my neck, my calves, even my breasts, disappeared for  that suspended moment.  It wasn’t until Kari lowered the padded leather support along my back and then pulled the handcuffs even lower that I came out of it. 
                I was bent even further and now my upper torso was not getting the support it needed.  I tried to keep myself raised up, but the cuffs kept me bent. 
                “My breasts!” I cried out, just as the clover clamp snapped, pulled off my nipple by my own weight.  Pain blossomed in me, a fiery agony that swamped every last sense of satisfaction my last orgasm had provided.  Kari came back around as I choked down the sobs and tried to ignore my increasingly difficult position, not to mention the now quite discomforting buzz against my clitoris.  Kari let out more chain and then, in what I can only call the cruelest moment, clamped my nipples a second time.
                I could now only see Robert with great difficulty, but I heard him.  It was tough NOT to hear him! Kari, after clamping me and leaving me to stew with my ben wa balls and butterfly vibrator, had returned to my fellow sex slave and proceeded to once again work him to hardness.  A quick glance told me that he’d received another coating of oil and was hard again almost immediately.  As I tried to deal with the now burning itch between my legs as my clit was over-stimulated, Robert tried work himself into orgasm, thrusting like mad against Kari’s fingers.  But like before, she stopped right before he came.  This time she used the candle, coating his cock with a thick layer of hot wax.  Oddly, it didn’t make Robert soft this time and he continued to thrust his hips wildly forward, his paraffin covered shaft bobbing like a strawberry frosted donut. 
                I was nearing the end of rope figuratively speaking.  The stresses my position placed upon my body were beginning to weaken me and I wondered whether my arms would rip out of my sockets if my legs gave out.  Then I realized that in all likelihood, my weight would be supported by the nipple clamps, at least for a while.  That idea was just as frightening.  I was still thinking about that when the willow switch cut a line across the underside of both breasts.  I let out a cry that would have sent most people running.  It invigorated Kari and another cut impacted on the super tender undersides of my bosom.  Kari let loose with a flurry of strokes that turned my vision red and left me raw and breathless.  My jerking around had not helped matters with the nipple clamps and the itch between my legs had turned into a fire.
                No doubt you’re wondering if I broke.  The answer is complicated because frankly, I’m complicated.  Did I break?  No.  Not really.  Not in the way you mean.  I didn’t beg for release, not that Kari would have granted it anyway, but what happened was in a way, a resolution.  Because of what I am, I didn’t collapse, or break, or sob.  Nope.  I came.  Hard.  And that’s the real difference between someone who identifies themselves a pain slut and someone who just likes a little bit of spanking.  Pain turns me on.  As my clit overloaded and the vibrations changed from pleasure to extreme agony, it didn’t turn me off.  It turned me on.  And my churning hips and tortured breasts were just the icing on the cake.  I exploded wetly, my entire body tense and shaking, literally juices squirting from me, out from under the butterfly vibrator.  Kari gasped in surprise and laughed with delight.

                And left me like that.
                The willow switch flicked against Robert’s cock, snapping the wax from his shaft with deft strokes.  He cried out, the pain clearly overwhelming.  But while I sagged into sexual euphoria, Robert grimaced, his hard cock bobbing until it diminished once more into softness.  Kari kissed him just as I was starting to fade, my vision darkening.  Then she quickly came back to the pillar, uncuffed my hands, and lifted me to an almost standing position.  The pressure on my back disappeared though I had tons of aches.  My clit was throbbing and felt as if some evil leprechaun was rapidly rubbing sandpaper back and forth across the tiny nub. 
                Kari released my ankles next and I fell to my knees as my hands went to my crotch.  It was everything I could do to keep from turning off the butterfly vibe, but then Kari was pushing me forward.  My nose bumped into Robert’s cock and I knew what Kari wanted me to do.  I opened up and took his soft member into my mouth.  My tongue swirled around him and he hardened in seconds.  Stimulation and torture will do that to you.  I tried to ignore my own torment as I suckled him, bobbing my head in slow strokes as I worked his shaft into rock hard readiness.  I could feel him getting ready to blow and as I picked up the pace, I felt Kari’s fingers wrap around my hair and yank me back.  Robert’s oiled and saliva coated cock bobbed in perfection and Kari shoved me out of the way.  I fell to the floor and watched in jealous amazement as Kari turned around, grabbed Robert, and backed onto him.  His cock penetrated deeply in Kari’s sex and I watched from my unique position on the floor as she pumped herself against him.  I rolled and crawled closer, lifting up, still ignoring the buzzing between my legs.
                My tongue found her clit and I literally felt Robert’s cock rubbing against my chin as I tongued her.  Evidently it was too much for the ice queen because I felt her hands grab my head and hold me against her groin and then Kari let out a tiny gasp, a cry that wouldn’t have even roused a room.  She shuddered once, then pushed me away, pulling herself free of Robert.  The poor man still hadn’t cum and while Kari collapsed to the floor twitching, I drew the ben wa balls out of my pussy, tore off the butterfly vibrator, and mounted him.
                It took only four good thrusts, face to face, before Robert unloaded.  I felt him jerk inside me and then he slumped.  I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly against me.  He sighed softly and then his head dipped down.  He kissed me lightly and I smiled. 
                “Feel better?” I asked.
                Robert chuckled.  “Much.  She’s going to kill you though.”
                I grinned.  “We’ll see.”  I glanced over to where Kari was still lying on the floor.  Her eyes were closed and she was still very much lost in the euphoria that comes with strong orgasm.  I let go of Robert and went over to Kari.  A light nudge with my toe made her eyes open.
                “You okay?” I asked softly.  Kari has never been able to deal with the powerful sensations of exploding and there will lingering tremors rumbling through her muscles.  She looked up at me though, eyes glazed with satisfaction.  She blinked and the daze cleared.
                “You took off the butterfly,” she said.
                I nodded.  “Had to take care of my lover,” I replied.
                She smiled and reached out to me.  I took her hand and helped her to her feet. 
                “Thanks,” she said.  I had to keep a hold of her as she took a step, she wobbled so much.  But after a few steps her equilibrium returned and she looked down at Robert’s flaccid cock.  She glanced at me with a quirked eyebrow and I shrugged with a vapid smile.  Robert refused to meet her gaze.  Finally she shook her head.  Then she reached out and grabbed hold of my right nipple, lifting up the breast. I groaned but didn’t complain or pull away.  Her fingers slid across the dark welts left from her switch.  Then she let go.
                “Oh well.  All’s well that ends well,” she said.
                I agree.  Completely.
                Don’t you?


Breanne Erickson is the author of the "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut" series, the ongoing recounting of her sexual escapades.  You can find her tales and other novels at her website:

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