Three Two One - Part One

I sat on the love seat trembling.  Perry stood over me, a thirty-something man with gray hair and thick glasses, a look of delighted astonishment on his face.  He was dressed in cool brown slacks and a polo shirt, perfect for the furniture salesman he was.  We were in the very back of his store, in the rejects section, and fortunately there wasn’t anyone else there.  He’d even locked the front door and placed one of those “be back in a few” signs on the glass.  In his hand he held my leather sap, a thick rectangular paddle that I knew would leave a brutal sting and then a generous heat.

My feet were up on the couch cushions, which of course meant my legs were both bent at the knees.  I had them splayed outward, held in place by my shaking hands.  I was buck naked, my clothing dumped on the floor nearby.  I opened my thighs even more, exposing my soaked slit and the large, metal toothed clamp that dangled from my clit.  At my ankle, the small chain with a number of slave bells rang softly.

I bit my lip timidly, knowing what was coming.  Perry leaned down, his fingers touching the alligator clamp, squeezing it open.  Blood rushed back into my clitoris and I actually let out a loud whine as the pain hit me violently.  The clamp in his fingers matched the ones chewing on the tips of my breasts, both viciously marked with a multitude of cane cuts and raised welts that crossed my chest like a map of the US highway system.  Evidently most of the roads intersected a nipple, which made the alligator clamps hurt all the more.

Had I not been sitting on it, a careful observer might have noticed similar red marks on my bottom, though those had been caused by repeated spankings with a paddle, rather than a  caning.  My eyes were glazed and the controller to the vibroballs lay next to me, the setting cranked up to high as Perry prepared himself.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again.

I was getting close to cumming so I needed him to hurry.  “Do it,” I whispered. “Hit me.  Spank my pussy as many times as you want. It needs to be red and hot before you stick your cock in me,” I said sincerely and seductively, lowering my voice. Sultry I can do, though I’m well aware that men find a high pitched woman sexier.  Did you know that a recent study showed that when a woman lowers her voice it acts as a signal to men that she’s turned on?  Weird huh?

Oh. Right. So I had my legs spread, my hips slung forward, my back curved, presenting my open sex to Perry.  He lifted the sap and brought it down on my clit with a sharp crack that elicited a cry from me that filled the showroom floor.  My knees jerked, trying to close, but I managed to keep my legs open.  The bells on the ankle rang with my movement and I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate.  The vibroballs rolled and buzzed inside me and I almost lost it again.  Perry looked at me for confirmation and I nodded in desperation.

“Please?  Spank my clit?” I begged him.  “I need it to hurt.  Smash my clitty into paste please!”

Well what man needs more encouragement than that?  The sap impacted again against my sex and I cried out and arched my back as the burning sting flowed into me, mixing with the rumble of the vibroballs.  My pussy tightened and Perry took my intense reaction as sufficient reason to hit me again.  And again.  It didn’t take long before I was near senseless, my body flinching and cringing at the strikes of the wet sap against my soaked slit.  I could barely keep myself open and he took advantage of me in ways that are almost unimaginable.  The bells rang with every stroke, a simple music that only emphasized the pain.  My clit felt as if he’d ripped it off, or maybe crushed it between two heavy stones.  I burned with a heat that made the vibroballs thirty times more intense, or at least feeling that way. My real problem was that I had to cum, and before he stopped hitting me.  At least I was close.

“Please Perry! Make me cum with the sap!” I begged of him, thrusting my hips forward lewdly.  Perry grinned maniacally and laid to with the sap with strong blows as I reached up with one hand, grabbed the chain connecting the two alligator clamps chewing on my nipples, and pulled.  I felt myself tighten, muscles contracting, hormonal releases flowing into my bloodstream and then my vision narrowed and went red.  I needed it. I wanted it.  Had to have it.  The vibroballs seemed to be roaring and I heard a strange groan in my ears. Sharp pain exploded between my legs, followed by a blast that seemed strangely liquid and flowed through every pore of my body in one long burst that left me senseless.

Perry noticed and he tossed away the sap, my steaming sex ready and waiting.  He fumbled with his trousers and the condom I’d given him and while he rolled it down over his cock I reached down between my legs and started to pull out the vibroballs.  I turned them off as they left a wet smear on the couch and then Perry was pushing forward, the tip of his shaft plunging into my cooked folds.  I gasped and wrapped my legs around him as he tipped me sideways onto the couch and pinned me to the cheap seat cushions.  His weight pressed into me and then his hands were on my tits, groping and squeezing, the alligator clamps mere curiosities to flick and squeeze while I whimpered.  The afterglow of orgasm was replaced by the steady thrusting of his cock and I’d hoped he was sufficiently aroused to cum before I managed to get needy again.  That was the whole point. I wasn’t allowed to orgasm while he was fucking me. Just when he was whipping me.  And I couldn’t do this again.  Not again.  Oh God no…

Six hours earlier

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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