Monday, May 20, 2013

A Willow Switch - Part Two

If you haven't read Part One yet, click here.

Turning off the RVP was pure bliss and I hadn’t realized just how sensitive I was until the buzzing and spinning sexual torment was halted.  With fifty-five more strokes still due to various parts of my anatomy, the last thing I needed or wanted was another orgasm and driving somewhere to get those strokes was just the sort of rest I needed.  A quick check of the time told me that my morning was disappearing fast.
There are a myriad number of places that I could have gone to get my strokes but I headed to the mall.  Such a close location meant I only spent about fifteen minutes with the RVP off, but that was enough to settle my nerves and give my sex a chance to recover from what amounted to almost non-stop sexual stimulation for almost six hours.  To be honest, I was surprised I’d only had three orgasms.  
Pulling up in front of the sports equipment store, I spent a few minutes adjusting my clothign, specifically my top, trying to cover as much of my chest as possible.  The marks left by the thin switch quite visible thanks to a couple of high placed strokes Ryan had left at the top of each breast.  Unfortunately the halter top didn’t cooperate and with a sigh I stepped out of the truck.
The first thing to do was turn on the RVP and I had to put out a supporting hand as the four inch, plastic cock once more began spinning in my depths.  It was quite disconcerting, especially since the muscles of my vagina began contracting repeatedly, clearly stimulated into immediate sexual arousal.  I could feel the wetness.
But then I added the vibration and I didn’t just compound the problem; I cubed it.  I couldn’t believe how quickly my body ran up the mountain toward the cliffs of orgasm.  I didn’t walk, I didn’t plod, hell... I didn’t even SPRINT upward. I FLEW.
I struggled to get a hold of myself and I put one hand to my breast, digging my fingers through the cotton of my halter into the forming bruises.  Pain thudded into me and slowed my ascent and I realized that I was a hell of a lot closer to cumming than I had thought.  I grabbed my purse, locked the door, and again leaned into the bed of the truck to grab the thin willow switch.
I didn’t browse on my way through the sports equipment store.  For one, I’m known there as a somewhat disruptive individual.  They haven’t technically banned me or anything, but when I walk through invariably I attract attention and one of the managers begins to hang around me.  Sometimes that plays into my hands since one of the newer assistant managers fell to my charms a few months ago, but the more seasoned executives never seemed to fall for me.  I wonder why?
I made a beeline through the place and ended up in the common mall area and I hesitated momentarily as I tried to decide between heading straight for David’s office, or going by Julie’s store.  I sort of doubted Julie was there, since it was a Thursday morning.  She usually handles weekend mornings and is off mid-week, but I shrugged. It could hardly hurt to walk down that way and it wasn’t that far.  Besides, Julie would be furious if she found out I’d been to the mall and NOT gone to see her.  
Sure enough I was right.  Julie wasn’t there and I recognized the store manager.  I walked past, never even going in, only to realize that I needed to turn around and go the other way if I wanted to take the most direct route to David’s office.  
You would think that a slut walking around in revealing clothing, obviously sporting marks that seemed to have come from a thin rod, carrying a willow switch, would attract more attention.  But I suppose the length of my skirt, which still fully covered my bottom, and my more sensible slip on heels, mitigated some of the obscene sexuality I was oozing.  Halfway to David’s office, I realized that I had promised David I’d call, rather than stop by the office, so I slipped my phone from my purse, dialed up the number and waited.
“Well, hello Breanne,” David said into my ear.
“Hi.  I’m wondering if you’ve got some time?” I asked.
“Right now?”
I chuckled. “I’m here at the mall.”
He paused for a moment. “Where?”
I glanced around. I was actually near the food court and I gave him my location by telling him what stores were around me.
“Okay, I’ve got something I have to finish up.  Can you meet me near the movie theatre in fifteen minutes?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied, wondering what was up.  Usually I went to David’s office.  Skipping that meant I wouldn’t get to see his sweet little secretary.  Oh well.
“All right, fifteen minutes. Stay wet.”
I rolled my eyes. Staying wet would hardly be a problem.  In fact, trying to keep from getting wetter was probably in  my best interest.  I hung up the phone and headed down the mall corridor.  Five minutes later I was loitering in front of the movie theatre and watching people. I love watching people.  It’s fun to see the different clothing, the looks, the attitudes, and even better, their expressions when they notice me sitting on a bench, my hips rolling in provocative motions, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.  Evidently I ooze sexuality or something.  Men take more notice but I like it when a well-dressed woman sees me and clearly wants some.
I remember once I was sitting on a bench trying to keep my skirt down and covering up my sex, legs apart due to my assignment instructions, when a beautiful young woman, with TWO kids walked up, told me I was beautiful, and asked if I wanted to go back to her place to have sex.  I asked if she had a sitter and she laughed, replying “the television.”  I turned her down. Having sex while her two and three year old were in the next room watching Sesame Street did not sound appealing.
David showed up precisely when he said he would and he sauntered up with that swagger that comes from being master of his world.  He bent down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and then accepted my hand as I slipped it into the crook of his arm.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he said, making the last word of his sentence longer and adding emphasis to it.
“I need to be punished,” I said succinctly.
“When do you not?” he replied with a grin.
“No David. I’m serious.  I need fifty-five strokes of this,” I held up the switch, “or things are not going to be good for me.”
He glanced at the willow branch. “Fifty-five?  That’s awfully specific. Please tell me they don’t all go on your tits.”  He glanced down at my chest. “I don’t think you can take much more there.”
I shook my head. “No, only twenty-five go there,” I replied.  “Another twenty-five on my bottom and the last five go on my feet.”
    He looked down at my toes to see my slip on heels. “I see.”
    I bit my lip. “And it needs to happen before I cum again,” I said, a little more urgently.
    David’s eyebrow went up. “And how soon will that be?” he asked.

    I let out a whimper. “Not long enough.”
    He chuckled, propelling me a few more steps down the corridor.  We walked a bit, then he turned toward a storefront that was dark, lined with glass doors, and looked abandoned.  I watched as he tugged out a key and opened the space.
    I’m not sure what was in there before. I forget.  Generally I’m a bit distracted when I come to the mall so I hope you don’t blame me for not remembering.  Most of the floor space was empty but there was a pile of unused cardboard boxes in one back corner.  Shadows were everywhere and the place was barely lit.  David walked me to the very back, and then we passed through a doorway leading into the rear of the store.
    It was here the David nodded at me, pushing me slightly away, and plucking the willow switch from out of my hands.  I didn’t just pull up my halter top, I took it off entirely, followed by my skirt, so that I stood there in my heels, wearing only the RVP which was still spinning and vibrating at my sex.  I spread my legs, put my hands behind my head, and braced myself.
    David was quick and he started with sharp but not blistering strokes that left a harsh sting that turned into heat.  At first he focused on my breasts, leaving the first ten strokes with rapid and precise flicks of his wrist.  Then he came forward, touched me, and wiped away the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.
    Then he went to work on my ass and I ended up on tiptoe, teeth clenched as the willow switch bit into my butt.  David seemed to enjoy it too, but as we passed the tenth stroke he paused.
    “I’m not sure you can take any more there.  We might need to look at alternatives,” he said.
    “Alternatives?” I asked, still gasping from where the thin stick had bitten into my flesh.  My hips were jerking back and forth and I could feel the orgasm coming like a thunderstorm on the horizon.  I was practically trembling.
    “I think we need to cool you off for a moment,” David said. He moved around in front of me and began unstrapping the RVP from my loins. I gasped as the four inch, plastic cock was pulled away.  David turned it off and set it on the carpeted floor nearby.
    “Now spread your legs and try not to scream too loud,” he said firmly.
    My legs were already spread of course, but I moved my feet into a wider stance anyway.  Failing to comply with a man holding a stick is never a good choice for a girl who is known to be a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut.  David moved behind me and I braced myself.
    He bent down low and moved the stick between my ankles.  I saw it there for just a second before it snapped upward, striking my labia with a sharp sting that broke my stance and brought my knees together.  It was like getting stuck with a needle.  It took a full ten seconds before my brain took control of my body again and I was able to open back up.
    David didn’t even say a word and just did it again, the thin willow switch swishing upward and laying another scarlet welt along my inner thigh and labia majora.  He moved his arm a bit for the third swing and when the switch caught my clit I again collapsed, unable to control myself or the instinctive need to protect my delicate parts.
    Normally, when a girl collapses in front of a man and curls up into a fetal ball, there is concern for her well being.  Paramedics might be called; a pillow might be slipped beneath her hair.  For damn sure no one grabs her ankle, hauls one of her legs upward, and begins to snap a long, thin length of willow against her privates.
    I rolled, again operating more on instinct than any kind of mental power.  I was only obliquely aware that I was being bad.  Most doms consider a submissive who tries to get away the worst sort.  David evidently understood that what he was doing was beyond my body’s ability to really react to and that I had little conscious control over what my muscles were doing.  Sharp pains seemed to explode upward from between my legs, as if I had fucked one of those stinging jellyfish.  It was not pleasant.  David held onto my leg and even hauled me higher up, leaving my ass in the air, twisting in the air conditioned breeze.
    I presume David only laid ten strokes on my sex. I can’t be sure because you can bet if I couldn’t hold my position, I damned sure wasn’t counting.  Admittedly this morning I tried to count the little red welts, but so many of them are close together so I’m torn with somewhere between eight and twenty two.  Your choice.
    Normally time is the only thing the reduces the pain in sensitive areas like your sex, but for me, I got a different sort of treatment.  Remember the old joke of the patient who goes in to see the doctor about his toe hurting, only to have the doctor smash his thumb with a book?  The patient says “owww!” and demands to know why the doctor has made his thumb hurt.  The doctor grins and replies, “well, now you aren’t complaining about your toe.”
    David is a strong guy, so gripping me by the ankle and almost holding me entirely upside down by one leg isn’t all that impressive.  But he did that AND managed to snap the willow switch against the sole of my foot with five sharp strokes that made my foot feel as if it were being flayed.
    I cried out. I flopped around.  And remember, my RVP was out and the arousal I was feeling was now fading.  The trip up the mountain of orgasm isn’t always a one way road.  It doesn’t always go up toward that cliff edge.  Sometimes your momentum suffers and you start slipping backward. No climax. No orgasm. No sexual euphoria.  Most women understand what I’m talking about, especially if they’ve ever had a lover with “premature detonation” problems.  Everything is going perfectly and then suddenly he’s grunting and popping and squirting loads of white cream in you and you’re lying there thinking, “what the fuck? He’s cumming already?”  And that sort of sucks because then you have to trick yourself into thinking that he’s just that taken with you and not doing the “slam, bam, thank you ma’am.”
    Wow. I’m rolling with the metaphors today, aren’t I?
Of course immediately after scouring one foot with the switch David dropped my leg, bent down, and before I could move or even try to scurry away, grabbed my other ankle and hauled me back up.  Only my shoulders and head were on the ground and I was bent in half, trying to hold on to his iron grip.  Suddenly my left foot was on fire and I let out a choked sob.
When he let go I rolled over onto my side and curled up into a ball.  This didn’t save me either because he merely took the opportunity to strike at my upturned bottom. I rolled again and this time he used his foot to stop me, literally kicking me back into a position of exposure.  This time I did count the strokes and he left five burning lines across my rump.  Then he squatted down and let me cry, stroking my head.
“Breanne,” he said softly. “Bre, open up.  Lie on your back.”

I was shaking too hard to comply and he said it again, this time with a little more force.
“Breanne.  Lie on your back now,” he commanded sternly.
I did it, and not because I was trying to be good. I did it because I was scared of the switch.  And I was right to  be scared of it because the moment I laid myself out and spread my legs and arms outward, twitching, he brought the switch down across my breasts, aiming right at both nipples, with the speed of a striking snake.  I let out another yell and my arms flashed back to cover my tits even as I rolled away from him.
David let me roll and a moment later he again commanded me to spread myself open.  I cried, tears streaming down my face. I wasn’t feeling arousal. There was no way I was going to cum now.  Not in a million years.  But I did as asked and held my breath and clenched my fists and gritted my teeth.
None of it helped. The stroke felt like someone had sawed off the tips of my breasts with a hacksaw soaked in lemon juice.  Again I rolled and he let me.  I literally turned over, pressing my chest to the carpet.  I gathered my knees up underneath me and it was then I felt something pressing against me.  I flinched away, only to realize that David was trying to slip the Rotating Venus Penis back into my sex.  Slowly, I took charge of everything below my neck, telling my nervous system to comply upon pain of... well... damn.  How do you threaten your own nervous system?  
I groaned when the four inch cock went back in and David strapped the contraption back onto my loins.  I gasped then when the phallus began spinning, joined a second later by the vibrations. I have no clue what David set the damn thing at, but it certainly was enough to feel amazing.
“Three more, Bre.”
I nodded and changed position.  Now with the purring between my legs for some reason I felt more capable at handling what was coming.  I moved into a kneel position, legs still spread wide, folded my arms behind my back, and pushed out my chest.
Yes, it hurt. It hurt a lot when the switch once again smashed into the softness of my curves.  My face scrunched down as I hissed and kind of let out another squeal.  But I managed to stay in position.  Evidently I’m some sort of Super Hero. I can withstand massive amounts of pain and personal torture, provided I’m being sexually stimulated at the same time.  Hmmm... I need a name.  Orgasm girl? Orgasmagirl? Painvixen?  
Okay... so a Breanne themed comic book is probably not going to be seen anytime in the near future.  Besides, what kind of plot could there possibly be?
A few strokes later David dropped the switch and began unbuckling his pants.  I obediently opened my mouth when his cock was pressed to my lips and I hungrily devoured him, totally willing to allow his shaft to be a distraction from my suffering.  David was already hard when I began sucking on him, and he let me deepthroat him for several minutes before pushing me to the floor and flipping me over.
Every morning when I get ready for the day, there are certain preparations that I complete, regardless of my toy for the day or the expected assignment.  One of those preparations is to squirt a tiny amount of grapeseed oil into my bottom.  First of all, its just good for the anal tract.  It makes things a bit cleaner and easier on the skin.  But most of all, if for some reason I end up getting something forced up my ass, something like a plug, a cock, or a cucumber (yes, that’s happened, and out of the blue too) I’m at least relatively capable of accepting it without screaming my bloody head off.
David was already well lubricated with my saliva, but I’m still glad I was oiled.  I gasped, trying to relax my rear end when he slid atop me and began probing.  A moment later I felt the slick head of his rod against my rear and while I hoped he’d slide down and fight the RVP for access to my front half, it became clear a moment later that he fully intended to fuck me up the ass, allowing the RVP to handle my other hole.  
Ever hear of fluid dynamics?  Fluid dynamics is a subdiscipline of physics that involve the study and regulation of fluids in motion.  You can actually get a degree in this and work on anything from aircraft to hydroelectric dams.  Of course, if you happen to be perverted, then I might suggest a more unique analysis of a more biological fluid system.
First of all, I was wet. Soaked even.  My labia was swollen and the RVP was pressed tightly to my crotch thanks to my own body weight and that of the man on top of me.  This was making the base of the RVP dig into my clitoris, which was also swollen, but from sensitivity to the intense vibrations coming from the tiny motor in the RVP base.  The four inch, plastic cock was spinning inside me, churning the various fluids of my sex into a froth and driving God only knows what hormones and endorphins and hormones through my bloodstream.  My rear end was also in play, since a variety of fluids, namely grapeseed oil and saliva, had been used to allow the penetration of a blood filled piston that was rapidly thrusting in and out, sending pressure waves through my entire body.  A few minutes later I heard David grunt and he added his own spunk to the mix, filling my ass to the brim.
When he pulled out and stood up, I felt like a bowl of gelatin, all wiggles and feeling wibbly wobbly.  I’m not sure I could have stood up at that particular moment.  My big issue was that I was feeling... sort of caught between necessities. Part of me wanted to explode. Part of me wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and just shiver for a while.
David, in stoic dominant demeanor, ignored me while he got his clothing back in gear, wiping his cock off on my halter top.  Ugghhh.  Once he was looking all professional again, he came over to me, squatted down and touched my shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, though my heart really wasn’t in it.
“You asked for it,” he told me.
I swallowed, not sure I trusted myself to speak.  Finally I did.  “I know,” I said.
“Well I can’t leave you here. Can you walk?”
Muscles ached and I lifted myself upward.  My head wiggled up and down. “Yes,” I groaned, then hauled myself up to my feet.
He helped of course, which was nice, and I was actually very grateful for the wall, which was very considerate by being right behind me and catching me before I fell over.  David held out my halter top and I grimaced at the smear of cum across the front.  I sort of glared at David, but he did not appear sorry in the least.
“I’m okay,” I said at last and pulled the halter over my head.  I’m absolutely positive some of his cum got smeared into my hair.  I managed to get the wet shirt over my now absolutely frightening breasts and winced at the pain.  David stepped closer with my skirt and even held it for me to step into. What a gentleman, right?  It settled around my hips and he tucked my RVP controller into the waistband. I plucked it right back out and checked the setting. Sure enough, it was jacked up to around medium. I turned it back down to low.
I looked around for my shoes and finally found them a few yards away. I had no idea how they got there.  I stumbled over and slid my toes in.  My arches stung and ached and again I groaned.  
“You look delectable,” David said proudly.

Delectable?  I kind of doubt that.  A good portion of both breasts were still exposed and the damage done to my skin was going to raise a few eyebrows, especially since only the brain dead wouldn’t wonder if the damage went downward under my halter top too.  It took me a few more minutes, but eventually I was ready and David led me to the door.
“I’ve got stuff I’ve got to take care of, so I can’t walk with you.  Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Bass Pro Shop,” I replied with another groan.
“Oohh... bad luck,” he said with a grin.  
I glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Of course.”
I sighed. “Is my shirt bad?”
He looked down at my chest and smiled. “It looks like you got some mayonnaise on yourself at lunch.”
My eyes widened. “Oh... lunch.”
His eyebrow went up. “You haven’t eaten yet?”
I shook my head.  
He grinned. “I wish I could have lunch with you today, but it’s impossible.  I do like the idea of you squirming in your seat in the food court though, that toy in you buzzing away at full power.”
I frowned at him. “You can’t be serious.”
He grinned.  “NHPS Rule number three.”
I knew what he was talking about. There are five rules to being a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut.  Rule three stated that I couldn’t refuse an order given to me unless it was outside my limits.  I gave David a cold stare.
“David, there is no way I can handle the RVP at full power, buzzing or rotating,” I stated.  
He grinned. “I know.” Then he reached for the remote which was tucked in the waistband of my skirt. I took a step back, eyes wide in alarm.
“David!” I hissed, glancing around.  There were people everywhere, though no one seemed to be looking at us.
His eyes narrowed though and his voice dropped. “Breanne.  Stand perfectly still. Do not resist me,” he said softly.
I’ve heard that voice before and I froze.  He reached out, took the remote, and pushed the control sliders upward.  Instantly my loins tightened around the now churning and shaking toy strapped to my sex.  I let out a cry and practically folded in half, unable to handle the stimulation.  That drew attention though and David quickly stepped up to me, wrapping an arm around my back, which cleverly concealed the RVP remote and the wire from all the people now looking our direction.
David thumbed the sliders back down. “Okay, I guess you weren’t kidding,” he said petulantly. I let out a gasp of relief and partially straightened back up. My chest was heaving and David grabbed my arm and began leading me down the corridor.  As he walked, he fished out his phone and a moment later was talking into it.
“Christine?  Yes. I’m fine. Where are you?” he asked. He waited a moment, listening to her answer. “No, that actually works.  Can you meet me in the food court?”
I knew in a flash who he was talking to; his cute thirty something year old secretary. She was a preciously cute brunette with good taste in undergarments.  A moment later we made it to the food court and David angled me toward a table. I sat down with a thud and looked up at him, still shaking slightly.  
Christine arrived a moment later wearing a blue suit with a neck kerchief.  She looked adorable and her eyes widened when she saw me.  Perhaps it was the black stretch skirt or the cum smeared halter top that barely covered my breasts.  But she glanced up at David with puppy dog eyes.
“Yes David,” she asked.
My RVP remote was still in his hand. “Please allow Breanne to get a lunch and then during the lunch, please turn this controller up to full power. Just don’t let her cum.  As soon as she’s close, turn it off.”
Christine nodded obediently, giving me a cool glance.  “Yes sir.”
David smiled. “Good.”  He nodded at me. “Enjoy your lunch.”  Then he walked off, leaving me in the hands of a woman who was jealous of my relationship with David.  Even before he had left my sight I felt the roar of the RVP between my legs, and looked at Christine’s dark eyes - brimming with satisfaction.

Stay Tuned for Part Three!

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