Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Rule #1 is simple. It states that any NHPS (which would be me) MUST be ready for sex at all times, so she will keep either cock or some other sexually stimulating object stuffed up inside her. During my five month sabbatical, I sort of stopped following this rule, so yesterday was just a bit of a trial for me as I began the second day of my “cum back” by stuffing a nine inch long, two and a half inch wide, synthetic dildo up my slit at five in the morning. It didn’t vibrate, or move much, but it certainly filled up a space that had tightened quite a bit during my convalescence and I admit that the tight jeans I was wearing, along with the light blue, bikini cut panties I was wearing did little to help. Stuffed to the brim, the dildo had nowhere to go and it drove me crazy. Things weren’t any easier when I’d get the occasional text message from Kari, instructing me to find a quiet spot, tug down my jeans, expose my sex, and pump ten, and only ten, deliciously wicked thrusts. That’s the kind of thing that can leave a girl desperate and tender, especially when she isn’t used to taking something that big.
I’d spent the evening at Kari’s place, hoping things would get out of hand. I’d even dressed up for it. I’d replaced my jeans with a blue denim skirt. I kept the panties, but my usual tee shirt had been replaced with a white, button down blouse. I looked like a school girl. I even put on high heels, though with more sensible soles than my stripper shoes. The enticing attire did NOTHING to encourage her, and to my disappointment, she felt that continuing my torment meant not touching me, but instead occasionally giving me orders to again pump the Husky Dildo. Is it any surprise I left just after eight? She wasn’t going to do anything else to me. Why stay? So with the Husky dildo still held in place by my panties, my bottom barely covered by the skirt, and my bra-less breasts somewhat visible through the translucent shirt, I stormed out of Kari’s place desperately horny, irritated, and quite uncomfortable. I hopped up into my truck and sat down, groaning as the thick rod of rubber drove in another two inches.
Metaphorically, it’s difficult to describe to a man what it feels like to have cock inside you. Sure, I can describe the pleasure, the parting, the full feeling I get, but you guys can’t really understand it. Well, maybe you can if you do anal, but seriously – it’s different than getting it in the ass. Trust me, I know. There is just no equivalent for having nine inches of cock stuffed up between your legs. So I’m not even going to try, but if you can, I do want you to picture something. Imagine getting stuffed at five in the morning, tormented horribly four the entire day, and try to function with that thick, nine-inch monstrosity impeding your every step. I’m sure everyone who saw me walking figured I was a cowgirl who rode horses, just from the way I waddled. Imagine how they would have reacted if they’d know that it was just the fact that I had a massive synthetic dildo stuffed up inside me?
I tried not to bounce in my seat but it was tough. I focused on turning on the engine and driving, my hips grinding and shifting as I involuntarily struggled to make the dildo move in and out, despite the fact that I was impaled on it thoroughly. Things were going rather well, and I was wet and slippery and very hot, driving on the farm to market road leading up to my farm, when my distraction made things worse.
The sound of my tire exploding, followed by the fap fap fap sound of shredded rubber slapping the pavement drove every sexual thought out of my mind as I hit the brake and pulled the truck over onto the side of the road. I cursed, loudly, Texas style, which would no doubt have had me laid across a lap for a brutal spanking had I been in polite company. I hopped down from my seat, the Husky dildo sliding an inch or two out of my sex as the panties gave way slightly. I had to put a hand on the side of the truck just to keep from swooning. Then, in my stupid high heels, I marched around the tail and examined the back right tire.
I have no idea what I hit, but it had literally destroyed the sidewall. Forget a patch, I needed a new tire. With a groan I went to the passenger door so I could get the jack and the wrench out from behind the seat. Except the door was locked, which meant that I had to walk through the gravel – again on high heels here – to the driver’s door, all still stuffed with a wiggling monster cock. Fuming, I grabbed the jack and the metal rods and the lug wrench and carried it all back to the rear of the truck. Bending over to push the jack under the carriage, I felt the Husky dildo shift inside me. I closed my eyes, silently whispering to myself “concentrate Breanne. Change the tire.” Once I had the jack in place, I cranked it up just enough to make sure it wouldn’t slip. Then I put the lug wrench on the first nut and pushed.
I’m not exactly a weakling either. I lift hay bales and manhandle… well… men. I mean irrigation pipes. I ride horses. I can FIX TRACTORS. I know how to change the oil in my car. I’m a do it for yourself girl. But those nuts had been tightened with an impact wrench and my arms were not strong enough to do it. So I repositioned the lug wrench, stepped up onto it my heels, and with the entire thing supporting my weight, my hands gripping the bed of the truck, I began bouncing, trying to use my entire one hundred and seventeen pounds to force the nut to turn.
And that’s when I heard my phone beep. Text message. With a groan I stepped down, which of course made the Husky dildo swirl and move inside me. I again traversed the gravel shoulder (high heels?) and grabbed my phone. The screen lit up and I read Kari’s communication with a growing sense of fury.
“Breanne – pull over. Ten thrusts. No arguments. Don’t care where you are.”
I threw the phone back into the cab. Despite the fact that I was literally five minutes from home there was no one to call. Mike the Hardware Guy was working. My dad has a bum leg, and the fact that I was dressed like a schoolgirl slut precluded getting help from my mother. Kari and Robert were forty-five minutes away. I took a deep breath. Ten strokes. Then change the tire. I walked back around to the back of the truck, then to the other side. With the lug wrench on the ground near my foot I lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties, catching the Husky Dildo as it tried to slither out from my depths. I groaned, every part of me wanting release. My irritation translated into masturbation and I jammed the Husky dildo back up with a groan, enjoying the discomfort of its thickness and length. It hit my cervix and I winced, but then I let it slide out slowly, only to do it again. My world narrowed to the exquisite pleasure and I took my time, trying to get every last sensation out of each thrust. I knew that when I finished I’d have to text Kari back, letting her know I was done, but I didn’t care if it took me five minutes instead of fifty seconds. I got my seventh thrust, shaking with need, braced against the bed of the truck and was just then letting the dildo slide back out, my panties around my knees, when the lights came over the hill behind me.
The farm to market road by my farm is just hilly enough to be bothersome, and now that some builder had quadrupled the number of suburban homes four or five miles further down the road, traffic had increased enough to make me have second thoughts about my former stripping spot. But it was almost nine in the evening, so I had presumed things would be quieter. In fact, I hadn’t seen any other cars for fifteen minutes. With a gasp of chagrin, I scrambled to shove the dildo back in and pull up my panties. The dance I was doing couldn’t have helped attracting attention and the car coming up slowed down and then stopped right behind my truck, fully illuminating me. I turned to face it, my face crimson, though I figure that wasn’t noticeable in the glare of the headlights. The car door opened and a nice looking man in his mid-forties, dressed in dark slacks and a polo shirt stepped out.
“Hi! Need some help?” he asked brightly. He came around the front of his car, eyes curious and evidently caught clear sight of me. Long red hair, white see-through blouse, gold piercing and jewelry on right breast, blue denim skirt, inappropriate but sexy footwear; I suddenly felt a surge of embarrassment and my arousal level skyrocketed. I struggled to get a grip and then turned and motioned to the tire.
“Oh yes, please. The guys at the tire shop used an impact wrench on the lugs and I can’t get them off in these heels,” I begged him. I glanced back and saw that his eyes had widened into saucer plates. I blinked. What had I done?
His eyes met mine and he cleared his throat. “You’re um… you’re skirt is caught in your panties, miss.”
I paused, then slowly reached behind me. Sure enough, in my haste, the hem of my skirt had gotten caught in my panties, showing my pale blue bikini briefs clearly, not to mention the massive round imprint of the base of the Husky Dildo. If I had blushed before that moment, I certainly did then. I tugged the denim out of my panties and bit my lip.
“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to become as small and as inconspicuous as possible.
He nodded, his eyes now really taking in my attire. But despite the fact that I was dressed like a whore, he shrugged his shoulders and stepped up. In seconds he was kicking at the lug wrench and his sensible loafers made quick work of the first lug. He was halfway through the second when my phone buzzed, indicating another text message. He looked up at me curiously.
“Um… be right back,” I said with a sheepish smile and then waddled my way back around to the cab of the truck. I had to climb in because my phone had fallen to the floor on the passenger side. I grabbed it and glanced at the screen.
“Are you done yet?” Kari’s text demanded.
I grimaced and while still stretched out across the seat, typed “Flat tire. Guy is helping me change it. And no – not done yet.” Just as I pushed send, there was a cough behind me. I twisted in my seat and sure enough there was the guy, staring at my ass, which thanks to my position was fully exposed. We froze, staring at each other.
“I uh… I need the spare release key,” he said and I knew his eyes were focused on the base of the Husky Dildo. I nodded and slowly crawled out, which made my skirt go up even more. Finally I was able to get out of the truck and I found solid pavement. I smoothed down my skirt and then folded the seat forward. I pulled out the spare tire key – a long thin metal bar that allowed the spare tire to be dropped from under the bed of the truck. I handed it to him, the phone still in my other hand. It beeped and I glanced down at the text message.
“So? Finish masturbating. Immediately.”
His head was cocked and I knew with a sudden cold shiver that went up my spine that he had read the text. We stared at each other in silence for about ten seconds and then he took the key from my hand and went to the tail of the truck. He stuck the key in and began cranking, letting my spare tire descend. I followed, mostly out of courtesy, but also because I was trying to figure out how to finish the last three thrusts Kari had demanded of me. As my good Samaritan yanked the spare out from under the truck, my phone buzzed again and we both looked at it.
“And start over. A full ten thrusts.”
He gave me a look. “Have I – interrupted something?” He asked.
I bit my lip. “Yeah, sort of. But it’s not a big deal,” I replied, still trembling.
“Then why are you shaking?” he asked as he rolled the tire over to my back wheel well. He began jacking up the truck again, his arm moving up and down as the truck went skyward. Finally the rear tire was off the ground and he pulled it loose and dumped it on the gravel near my exposed toes. I stood there, trying to reconcile it all; Kari’s demands, the good Samaritan, the Husky Dildo, all of it. Finally it was too much. As he manhandled the spare tire into place and put on the first nut, I lifted the front of my skirt, tucked the hem into my waistband, and yanked down my panties.
Suddenly changing my tire was no longer a priority. His mouth fell open as the Husky dildo slipped out from between my legs, illuminated quite well by his car’s headlights. I pushed my bikini cut panties down to my knees and then spread my legs, showing him my swollen and incredibly wet slit. Then, with my eyes locked on his face, I pushed the Husky back up, masturbating with slow and steady strokes, faster than before, but with the same depth and penetration I’d almost brought myself to orgasm with before. By the fifth stroke I was panting. I reached up and cupped a breast, my fingers struggling with the buttons of my shirt. He was frozen in place, watching the show with bright and wanting eyes. I pumped again, my entire body thrumming at the full penetration. I got my shirt partially open, enough to expose a breast, and then his eyes began jumping between the gold padlock dangling from my nipple, which I was twisting, and the thick massive dildo between my legs. By my eighth stroke I was on edge. I did the last two pumps quickly, wildly, desperately and then groaned as I got to ten, just a stroke or two shy of orgasm.
“Why are you stopping?” he asked urgently as I held the dildo in place and it became clear I was coming down unsatisfied.
“I’m not allowed to pump more,” I told him, my voice thick and desperate.
And then his hands came up. One cupped my bottom, the other the slippery base of my dildo. I gasped as he drew it almost all the way out, his eyes widening as he saw the true length and breadth of the dildo. Then he forced it back up into me with wild thrusts. I didn’t count. I couldn’t. They were rapid, hammer blows between my legs, way more than ten, or twenty, or even thirty. I put my hands on his head, his shoulder, bracing myself as my toes curled and the orgasm that I had been sitting on all day finally came up like a whale breaching. My juices exploded and splattered across his face and shirt and I let out a cry that would have been loud and attention grabbing had we not been surrounded by soybean fields. Then he came up off his knees and his lips found mine and he was crushing me against him. I let him take me, his mouth on mine, his hands at my shirt, popping buttons, grabbing hold of my body. I reached down and felt the thickness of his cock, massaging it through his pants. My fingers found his zipper and in seconds he was exposed. I paused things long enough to get a condom from the truck as he stood there with my slick Husky dildo in one hand and when I came back I slid it over his shaft while our eyes met. Then I turned around, flipped up my skirt, and bent over, hands on the spare tire. He moved behind me and slid himself in with one thrust, jacking back and forth with deep grunts. I began speaking, small phrases like “Oh God yes, fuck me,” and “that feels so good! Harder! Do me harder!” Things like that. I must have been really good because he came in that position, standing behind me, his shaft buried in my sex.
When he pulled out I turned around and reached up, taking my Husky dildo back from him. His sex-dazed eyes blinked and he smiled at me happily. I looked at the dildo, then brought it down between my legs as his eyes focused and widened. I shoved the synthetic cock back up inside me and then pulled my panties back into position. I made it clear that it was uncomfortable as I smoothed down my skirt and began buttoning up my shirt.
“Uh… I guess…” he began to say, but I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it.
“Thanks for changing my tire,” I said softly.
He blinked and glanced down at my spare. He nodded and then bent over to pick up the lug wrench. In moments the tire was tight, the jack lowered, and all of it tossed into the bed of my truck. He wiped his hands on his trousers and looked at me as I smiled.
“Will I see you again?”
I paused. I strip on this road all the time, but did I really want to risk it? I grinned and went to the cabin, got a pen and an old receipt that had fallen on the floor. I wrote a few numbers down, then handed it to him. He swallowed and nodded as I climbed back into my truck. I sat down, feeling the thickness of the Husky Dildo ram back up into my well-used well. I gave him a little wave and he shut my door for me. I started the truck, put it into gear, and drove for home. Just as I pulled up, my phone hummed. I’d received a text message but it wasn’t from Kari. It was from a number I’d never seen.
“Start over. Ten full thrusts please. And a date next Friday?”
I laughed, pulled up my skirt, lifted my ass off the seat and yanked down my panties. Slouching, I reached down between my legs and pulled the Husky dildo almost completely out. And at that moment, as I spread my legs wide, I wasn’t sure what I was looking forward to the most – ten more thrusts, or the date.
This tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's Blog, but can be found in its entirety in Breanne Erickson's latest novel, "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 9"! Stop by Amazon.com today to pick up your copy!
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