78 Orgasms - No More No Less - Monday Evening

Monday Evening,

 God, I’m tired.  This is going to be short because frankly I don’t have the energy to spend more than thirty or forty minutes typing, and I also don’t want to waste the time.  I’ve got the Husky dildo still buried inside me, but my butterfly clitoral vibrator is humming away at my sore clit and I’ll be honest, the moment I cum I’m just going to post this and say “screw it, I’m going to bed.”  

After posting this morning I managed six more orgasms in the space of nine hours.  It was grueling, emotionally and physically.  You have to understand that while my record for one day is twenty one orgasms, I’m having to do all of these myself.  It isn’t like there is someone nearby, while I’m tied down, working me into sexual nirvana.  No, I have to get myself there.  Almost constant masturbation.  I’m so sore on my clit that the butterfly feels like I’m being stimulated with an electric sander.  I’ve used my fingers.  I’ve pumped the Husky dildo in and out.  I’ve flicked myself into orgasm.  I’ve even gotten the vibrator out and massaged myself into orgasmic bliss.  I’ve done most of these in my bedroom or the bathroom.  Hell, even my shower tonight was orgasmic, the waterproof vibrator taking the place of the Husky dildo, glistening with soap bubbles, sliding up between the soaked and swollen petals between my legs.

But I am so tired.  And sore.  I don’t want sex. I want sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.  And peace.  The buzzing of the butterfly is getting so intense.  Ic an feel itt now.  It’s juust sgetting me so clclose to thhe edge that I’;m having trouble just t jhingkign about it.  And d gg gonn a pinch npilles nippels aand   tt cucmmming.

I think… I think I’ll go to bed now.

Total Hours: 160

Total Orgasms Required: 78

Total Orgasms Experienced Thus Far: 17

Hours Elapsed: 37

Expected Goal: 18

Orgasms Over/Under: -1

78 Orgasms - No More No Less - Monday Morning

Monday Morning

In college I took a class called statistics and to be honest, I loved it.  It helped that the professor was hilarious, constantly telling jokes, and his attitude and demeanor made it easy to enjoy the class.  For example, when he handed out the syllabus, it was entitled, “Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics,” which I thought was pretty damn funny.  He taught us how statistics worked, how probabilities were figured, and why logic wasn’t always logical.  I remember in one early class how he announced that statistics showed that ninety-five percent of all pedestrian/motor vehicle accidents happened at crosswalks.  He then asked what the fact should lead us, as logical individuals, to conclude.  No one wanted to volunteer an answer because we could tell that this was a question designed to make some look like an idiot.  But finally he spared us, explaining that the simple would decide to no longer cross at crosswalks, thus increasing their personal risk, based upon a statistic that easily led to the wrong conclusion.  

He also showed us how to play a game of Battleship using probabilities, which was equally fascinating.  I loved how he positioned his ships and played the computer, explaining how each square had such and such probability of being struck and how to minimize the chance and so on and so forth.  It was cool.  I learned a lot from him.

And no. I never fucked him either.  Get your mind out of the gutter.

As I mentioned yesterday, (the post which I hope you’ve already read and if not then click here please) I’ve been given a task.  A major one.  I have until Saturday evening to complete a total of 78 orgasms.  No more, no less.  It’s a daunting task honestly.  And in case you’re wondering why I started this whole little blurb with statistics, I thought a few might help you understand just what’s been going through me – besides a vibrator.

First of all, let’s break down the time here.  Sunday Morning (let’s say MY morning, so 5am) to Saturday Evening, (my bedtime is usually 9pm) is a total of 6.5 days.  That 6.5 days breaks down into exactly 160 hours.  160 hours divided by 78 orgasm, means that I’ll need to have an orgasm roughly every 2.05 hours.  That comes to approximately 12 orgasms a day.  Of course, I actually sleep for about seven hours each day, which means of the twenty four hours available, I’m only actually awake for 17 of them, give or take.  That means that I actually have to cram 12 orgasms into 17 hours, which comes to about one orgasm every hour and a half.  For six and a half days.

I’m going to die.

To make matters worse, I didn’t start yesterday morning. I started yesterday afternoon, when I got home from church.  Kari had instructed me to wear my ben wa balls, so I had no assistance there, and as soon as I got home from church and felt myself ready and no longer in the last vestiges of my TOTM (Time of the Month) I stuffed myself silly and masturbated quickly to a wet, sloppy, thigh soaking cum.  It was very nice thank you, especially after a week of not cumming.  

An hour and a half later I went back up to my room and did it again, this time using a vibrator to push myself over the edge. It was pure bliss, rubbing the hard plastic tip against my clit, setting myself up, hips thrusting upward in sexual bliss.  Then I came with a gasp, the soles of my feet touching, my knees wide apart, naked from the waist down, lying on my bed.  It was beautiful.

But then my little girl wanted to go horseback riding.  I could hardly say no, so I skipped the next two “times”.  By the end of the day I’d only had seven orgasms, and that was pushing it, with the last two barely three or four minutes apart, followed by exhaustion and curling up into a ball between my sheets.

This morning things have not gone easier for me.  The second I woke up my hands slipped downward between my legs and I worked myself into a froth.  I checked my email and Kari’s toy of the day is my Husky Dildo, a thick, firm rubber, natural looking, nine inch synthetic cock that neither vibrates, nor moves on its own.  In other words, it’s fun to play with, but it isn’t going to send me off half baked by itself.  I masturbated again in the barn, and then once again at the gate of the goat pen before heading in.  Three more orgasms in the space of three and a half hours.  And now I’m here in my room, just after breakfast, bouncing up and down, writing this, trying to cum again.  It’s mind numbing and frankly, I’m feeling sated.

Am I crazy?  Could a nymphomaniac actually BE sated?

We’ll find out, won’t we?

Total Hours: 160

Total Orgasms Required: 78

Total Orgasms Experienced Thus Far: 10

Hours Elapsed: 28

Expected Goal: 14

Orgasms Over/Under: -4

78 Orgasms, No More - No Less

It's rare that I post something BEFORE the fact, but I think in this case I sort of have to.  I received a very unique email the other day, an assignment of sorts, that spans an entire week.  The idea was intriguing, but terrifying as well, so I mentioned it to Kari, who liked it so much that she ordered me to immediately do it, as soon as my TOTM ended.

Well, I can tell I'm on my last day.  Not sure when I'll be ready again, but it will be today. And therein lies the crux of the problem.  Master Matt is the creative monster who has come up with this little gem:

Breanne, in the coming week you are to have 78 orgasms, no more, no less. The day's total number of orgasms will be tweeted daily. Orgasms are to be worked around whatever other daily stipulations or assignments you are given. I hope there aren't denial days or you're in for a tough time! The week is defined as Sunday morning till Saturday night.Over or under the weekly quota will result in punishment.

I did the math on this.  78 orgasms in one weeks comes up to having an orgasm every 2 hours and 15 minutes.  Or if I choose to actually sleep like a normal person, it means  an orgasm every 1 hour and 45 minutes.  

Worse, since technically my time started this morning, and my TOTM isn't done yet, I'm losing time, unless of course I start off with just clitoral orgasms.  Thank God Master Matt didn't specify the orgasms had to be vaginal!  I'm also allowed to cum anyway I can. I can screw and fuck anything or anyone I want.  It's the orgasm that matters! And no, I don't know what the punishment will be if I screw this up.

Part of me is dreading this. Part of me is looking forward to it.  All I can hope is to survive these next few days.  We'll see how I'm doing come Saturday evening.  This one is going to be a doozy. So stay tuned to my twitter account: @breanneNHPS and see how I'm doing. I'll also do my best to post daily updates here on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog so you know how things are progressing!  See ya round!

A Little Fall of Rain

Beautiful.  Stunning.  Stunningly Beautiful. I'm unable to find credit for who took this image, but it's amazing. If anyone knows, please drop me a line in the comments section so I can credit the work.

Vibrating with Sarah

I stood in the middle of the park and surveyed my surroundings.  The place was green, which was to be expected since there was a bayou creeping along the edge of the place, with a mixture of scrub oak, banana plants, with the occasional Japanese maple thrown in for color.  A winding concrete path circumnavigated the park, winding its way in and out of the small groves of trees, both beginning and ending in a metal framed children’s playground.  White fluffy clouds floated by overhead, changing the temperature from a solid ninety eight to a few degrees cooler in mottled patterns as the southern gulf coast breeze sent moisture northward. 

The park was mostly empty, the afternoon sun discouraging even the most avid jogger from ground pounding and had I not been wearing the massive brimmed sunhat I had snagged before heading out, I too would have been running to find a place indoors.  As it was I carried my own little umbrella perched atop my head, but at least I have to admit that I was fashionable.

The hat was white and made of straw and the brim was large enough to cover my shoulders.  The ivory cream of the hat matched perfectly with the white, flower print, summer dress I was wearing as well, a strapless number that had elastic sewn into the collar and beneath my breasts, encasing my bosom with cool, white cotton.  The blue flowers were large enough to prevent the dress from being see through, even though it was clinging to me quite dramatically.  Like I said, it was hot.

My feet were clad in flat soled sandals and since I had freshly painted my toenails to match my hair, I liked showing off my feet.  My legs were bare, all the way up to my upper thigh, were the dress, admittedly a little shorter than proper, clung.  It was the sort of dress that you could walk in, but really needed to think twice before skipping rope.  Underneath I was bare – no bra, no panties, and I could feel the breeze against my petals. 

There were a few oddities about my appearance though, the first being a black wire that came out from under the back of my dress, stretching to the canvas bag I carried.  Had a curious bystander bothered to look, or even more interestingly, traced the wire underneath my hemline, he’d have found it going straight to my bottom, disappearing into the tiny aperture there.  A more curious gentleman might even have pulled a little, just to see what would happen.  I can only imagine his surprise as eight, black, rubber encased, vibrating beads would slowly emerge from my depths.

Yes. I was wearing my anal beads.  And yes, the wire led to the battery case and remote.  Eight beads, ranging in size from grape to plum size in ascending order, were buried in my ass and trust me, I wasn’t all that happy about either.  At that particular moment they were gently rumbling, adding a sort of tremor to my stride that is tough to describe.  Of course, I wasn’t the only one with vibrating anal beads.  Somewhere else, a friend of mine was doing it too.  My thoughts went to Sarah and what she was going through.

Preparing to leave I put in my anal beads, and was quite wet courtesy of not having had an orgasm for over 24 hours. As I left home in the car I was thinking of how nice the weather was today, not being too cold for the assignment. Parking the car, I picked up the bag of toys and walked to find a spot away from the main walking path, with hopes that I wouldn't attract too much attention.

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!

Breanne, you will attire yourself in your short, flower print summer dress and sandals.  You will bring a canvas bag filled with every motorized sex toy you own.    You will arrive at your location wearing only your anal beads (off).  Your pussy will be empty and you should be terribly horny – you will prepare for this assignment by not having an orgasm for an entire 24 hours prior to starting.  Once you have arrived at your chosen public spot, you will put on your butterfly clitoral vibe as well as the both vibrator nipple clamps.  Turn them, as well as the anal beads, to high.  Once you are ready, spread your legs and put in your six inch straight vibrator.  You are not allowed to touch yourself.  You will remain there, in public, on display.  Once you have cum from the six inch vibrator remove it and put in the seven inch “G” spot vibrator.  Again, remain on display until you’ve cum.  Remove the G Spot vibe and replace it with your natural looking dildo vibrator.  Again, stay on display until you cum.  Follow this procedure with your waterproof vibrator as well as your mini pocket rocket.  Once you are finished with these, remove the clitoral butterfly vibe as well as the mini pocket rocket, and strap on your RVP.  Turn both the vibration and rotation function to high   Once you have cum a single time from the RVP, you will keep the toys vibrating until you find a stranger to ask to turn them off.  Offer them sex in return for helping you.  – Master Dre