Cumming and Going

Okay. I’m frustrated.  Frustrated in a way that you’d probably enjoy, grinning like a Cheshire cat and sitting back to watch the show with a bucket of popcorn in one hand and a vibrator in the other.  Or if you’re a guy, then you’d probably have something else in your hand, but let’s just move on, shall we?  It’s mid-afternoon and I’m… uncomfortable.  That’s probably not a surprise to anyone, let alone me, but I must have done something to piss off Kari this last week, and while I’m pretty sure I know what I did, I’m not sure I deserved THIS.

What is THIS?  Well, this happens to be my circumstances for the day.  Laundry day, the day I spend most of my time bouncing up and down between my computer, the laundry room, the living room (to fold) to the various closets and bureaus in the house, putting folded and hung clothes away.  It’s a back breaking job and there are four people in my house to wash for. 

So try doing it with a twelve inch long, three inch thick, monster dildo shoved up inside you.

Yes, I’m wearing my Core Driller. It’s black.  It’s multi-staged, with little bumps on it.  And frankly, if you painted it white and slapped a NASA sticker on it, you could sell it at a toy store as a rocket ship.  Seriously.  No one would know that your daughter’s first grade toy was actually something that could GROW with her.

Okay.  That was sick.  And no, I haven’t give my daughter one.  Yet.

Can you tell how stressed I am?

Kari’s note this morning wasn’t exactly enigmatic.  She was explicit.

“Bre- please note that today’s toy of the day is due to your less than intelligent use of email, forwarding my responses to them so that my address is now available to every individual you communicate with.  Please understand that further lapses in judgment will be similarly handled.  And you may thank your friend Matt for today’s sensations.

Today’s toy is your Core Driller, lubricated with Stinging O.  You will also wear your butterfly clitoral vibrator.  These will be worn with panties, under the tightest pair of shorts you own.  The butterfly is to be left off, unless you are standing, in which case you will turn it on.  Do not cum.  Should you cum, please follow the instructions below:

First orgasm: Please stuff your ass with your vibrating anal plug. Leave it off.

Second orgasm: Please apply your nipplebands to your breasts. Turn on the plug.

Third orgasm: Replace the nipplebands with clover clamps.

Fourth orgasm: Replace the clover clamps with Alligator clamps

Fifth orgasm: (really?) Find someone, anyone, to give you twenty spanks to the ass with a paddle.

Sixth orgasm: Call me. 

So as you can see, Kari seemed… well… not to happy with me.  So this morning, after answering email, I pulled my toy box out of the closet, opened it up, and got out my Core Driller.  Lubricating it was easy, since I keep a bottle of Stinging O in my bedside stand, and a moment later I was standing naked in front of my closet mirror.  I leaned back, falling across my bed, spreading my legs as wide as possible, and brought the oiled head of the massive dildo down to my sex. The first thing I felt was the Stinging O coating my clit and petals, the chemical reaction of the combination of pepper oil, cinnamon oil, and grapeseed oil doing exactly what it was intended to do – set me on fire.  It wasn’t a bad burn of course, just enough to send a tingle through my nether regions and then add some heat.  It was like getting a bit of that muscle cream spread over my sex.

Then I started pushing in the dildo.  For any of you who have never done this, putting in a monster synthetic cock is not as easy as you would think.  First of all, I’d only had my ben wa balls in the day before and it wasn’t like my slit was really prepared to take something as long or as thick as my Core Driller.  It meant working it in slowly, thrusting gently, getting deeper with each movement.  In three minutes I had it five inches deep.  In ten I was getting well over two thirds of the twelve inch length inside me.  At fifteen minutes I gasped, then winced, as I mashed the full span of solid rubber into my hole.

And you know what?  That was part of the torture.  See I had to literally masturbate just to get the damn thing in there in the first place, which meant that I was already seething with sexual need.  And I hadn’t even put on the butterfly!  I leaned over and while sitting on the bed, feeling both my own juices and the oil leave a wet spot on the fitted sheet, I began strapping on the butterfly clitoral vibrator, settling it somewhat gingerly over my, to this point, mostly ignored clitoris.

Next came my panties, and finally my shorts, and I’m sure you would have appreciated the gymnastics I had to go through in order to keep the massive dildo up inside me while struggling to get my bare legs through the damn holes in the bottom of the shorts.  I ended up on my back, on my bed, my toes up in the air, one hand on the Core Driller with the other pulling the tight denim down my legs and up over my ass.

I put on a bra and then a shirt, then realized I was already screwing up Kari’s stipulation for the day’s toy.  With a look of chagrin, I unsnapped my shorts, yanked the zipper down, stuck my hand in my panties, and flipped the tiny switch, turning the butterfly on.  Vibrations roared into me, despite the lowest setting, and I felt my clit swell.  My sex tightened convulsively around the Core Driller, trying to move it, or throttle it, or something.  So with my body trembling at the sexual stimulation, I headed for the door of my bedroom. I had chores to do.

I stopped at the threshold.  Oops.  I leaned back in, rummaged in my toy box, and got out my vibrating anal plug.

Just in case.

***

It didn’t take long.  Maybe twenty minutes?  Hell, I’m surprised I lasted that long.  I was walking around, waddling really, thanks to a foot of only minutely flexible rubber embedded between my legs.  The butterfly was driving me mad and I was being forced to stop and even sit a few times, just to keep myself under control.  Finally it blew me away and I stood there along the goat pen, gripping a bucket of feed in one hand and the rail in the other as my body exploded like a grenade. 

I stumbled back into the barn and retrieved the anal plug from where I left it on my father’s workshop bench and then began unbuttoning my shorts.  Since I hadn’t exactly been told I could turn off the butterfly after cumming, I was still getting stimulated and was already halfway through a multi-orgasmic event when I tugged my panties down.  They were soaked, the thin pink cotton reeking of cinnamon and my own flavors.  I reached down.  Yep. Plenty.  And I ran the anal plug through the discharge around the base of the Core Driller.

It didn’t take much in the way of dexterity to get the tip of the plug in my ass. It slid in easily, smearing the oil and other juices around the puckered opening. I groaned, tried relaxing, and then in a fit of pique, just turned around, and sat down on one of the work chairs.  The plug was forced up into my ass and I let out a groan as the pain of suddenly being fucked in the butt hit me.  My sphincter tightened around the indentation and I had to reach down and catch the Core Driller as it started to slide out.  Evidently there really wasn’t enough room in there for all the rubber.

Well, not without forcing a few things aside.  I’d hate to think what a cross-section anatomy image would look like, with my ass stuffed with a four inch plug and my front filled with a full foot of rubber cock.  Might be interesting for science’s sake, right?  But nevertheless I managed to get my wet panties back up, then my shorts.

And then I finished my outside chores.

An hour later I was inside, sorting laundry, which again meant standing and the butterfly was driving me absolutely nuts.  Some of my family was awake, but no one had clued into the fact that I was a few rooms away, going through something that was about as difficult as hiking twenty miles over rough terrain.  I managed to stifle my cries as finally my body overloaded, and only my dad raised an eyebrow as I marched upstairs afterward, to go get the nipplebands.

With the tiny rubber sheaths over each nipple, I turned on the vibrating plug and realized that I was now in even more trouble.  My clit was beginning to tingle, and not from the oil, but from sensitivity, which only aroused me more, giving a painful edge to what, so far, and really been a rather pleasant, if physically challenging torment.  I finished the laundry, set the first load, and then sat down at the computer to maybe write a little, turning off the butterfly.  And that’s when I realized that the real torment wasn’t being vibrated.

It was sitting.  Sitting with both my ass and sex stuffed to the brim, the vibrating anal plug still buzzing inside me.  Add in the little rubber bands constricted around my nipples, and you can imagine that being in that position wasn’t exactly a pleasant rest for me.  I dithered around, wrote a little, chitchatted on messenger, and then, when the darks were ready to be yanked from the dryer, I stood up, turned my butterfly on, and headed to the laundry room.

I didn’t cum in front of the dryer.  I managed that much.  I pulled the darks out, put the brights from the washer into the dryer, and even got another load into the washer.  I was hanging my dad’s trousers on pant hangers when I couldn’t take it anymore, exploding wetly, and trembling like a car antenna after hitting a speed bump. 

The rest of this tale from Breanne Erickson is available in her book "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut, Volume 8" available at Amazon.com.  Click here to find out what happened next!