I know. You've all be breathlessly waiting for my next assignment posting, right? Well don't worry, it's below. But I have to explain a few things. Lately I've been getting a TON of assignments, right in the fall when we're harvesting and stuff and so frankly I've been having lots of assignments, very complicated assignments (right Masters Phil and Shadow?) that I've DONE, like "Sanity Breaker" and "Five Buttons" but I'm STILL writing! Would you believe I'm at 41 PAGES for Five Buttons? That's a freaking novella! "Sanity Breaker" is at 21 Pages. So you see my problem. I'm still slogging through those, trying to get them written up when someone drops a freaking assignment bomb on my head with "do this now!" written all over it. And to be honest, at this point, Five Buttons and Sanity Breaker, along with "Pain in the NHPS," and "Harness" are all probably just going to be in the next book. Sorry guys. But only the assigning masters will get rough draft copies. Got to keep the doms happy, right?
Okay. So here we go. Resistance. It's more than just a word. - Bre
It was relatively early and the sun was barely up as I stood stock still in the middle of the barn, trying to distance myself from the overpowering sensation. Most cowgirls who spend their mornings taking care of assorted livestock, slopping pigs, feeding goats, and making sure the horses are turned out to pasture rarely have to deal with the same sort of morning I’d already had. Tucked into a pair of tight blue jeans, a regular tee shirt covering up my rather plain and boring bra, I was dressed for work, rather than to please the senses. Dresses and skirts are all well and good, but for running a farm they’re rather impractical. Of course I’m me, which means that not everything was as it seemed.
The sensation that was disturbing me was rather intense and I began to tremble, reaching out to grab hold of a pillar in order to steady myself. The core was centered between my legs, the result of being both stuffed and vibrated by a diabolical toy called a “Rotating Venus Penis,” a battery operated contraption that consisted of a four inch long, plastic dildo that corkscrewed around in a swirling movement, as well as a base, that sent vibrations, not only through the cock, but also along my entire slit, pressed tightly against my clitoris.
I’d already been wearing the RVP for an hour; sixty minutes of non-stop, mind numbing sexual stimulation, only made worse by the requirement that for fifteen minutes I’d been told to turn up one of the functions; either the rotation or the vibration, to full power. That had set me off in an instant and I’d shaken myself through a powerful orgasm of panty wetting proportions.
The fact that I’d exploded was not lost on me and since that was sort of the point, I retrieved the printed list I’d made of the repercussions for orgasm. I wasn’t really looking forward to any of it, since the list wasn’t exactly about rewarding me for my masturbatory prowess. Quite the contrary, and now that I’d had my first climax, it was time to accept the consequences of. How did Brandon put it? Oh yes. The consequences of resistance. Evidently that was what I supposed to do - resist the orgasm. Yeah. Right.
“Twenty spanks to your bare bottom,” I read aloud, then groaned. Master Brandon had been quite specific with his instructions and I only had thirty minutes to get the appropriate punishment, which meant that I had to find someone to spank me. That’s not exactly easy at six ten in the morning on a farm in the middle of Nowhere, Texas. The main problem was that there was actually a punishment for not doing the punishments, which seems overly complicated to me, but was a factor nonetheless. Which meant I had a choice; delay the immediate punishment in favor of getting my chores done, thus earning something even worse later, or go and find someone who would be willing to give my cute derriere the smacking it deserved.
I know what you’re thinking. You want to know what Master Brandon had detailed as the punishment for not doing my punishments. You are wondering what could possibly be so bad that I would find it motivation to actually interrupt my work that morning in favor of going out to get a spanking. But guess what? It wasn’t my motivation. Want to know what my motivation was?
Driving. I’m allowed to turn off any and all vibrators while driving. Which meant I’d get a break from the RVP buzzing and spinning inside me. And that… well that was worth getting a spanking!
So leaving my chores half-done I hurried out to my truck, cranked the engine, and turned off the sex toy spinning and shaking inside me. The relief was palpable, a sense of peace washing over me and I put the truck in gear. I had thirty minutes to find someone to take their hand to my ass so it was time to get a move on.
I ended up at John’s place. He was awake when I called, close enough for the time frame, and had been more than willing to give me satisfaction. In short order I found myself unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down while standing in his living room, presenting my very cute bottom, the straps of the RVP wrapped around my waist and thighs, black Velcro against white skin. Of course the little toy inside me was already spinning and vibrating again. I had turned it on the moment I’d gotten to John’s place. As I laid myself down across his lap I turned up the rotation function, feeling the small but thick phallus swirl inside me. Aroused and totally wet, I didn’t even squirm as John began by kneading my buttocks, his strong fingers digging into the muscle. Then the strokes began to fall and a sharp sting, followed by burning heat, exploded through my bottom. I ground myself down into his lap, feeling the edge of the RVP dig into his leg, which just put more pressure on my clit. Wow. Did that feel good. So much for “resistance.”
I made it to the sixteenth stroke of his hard hand against my soft ass before I exploded. Not cool. Only I could manage to earn another punishment in the middle of taking the first one. John waited, cruelly, for me to come down from my orgasmic heights before landing the last four blows, making both butt cheeks smart. I slid off his lap and to my knees, and with my bottom still bare and hurting, I grabbed hold of his exposed dick and began sucking on it. There are prices and consequences for everything and part of my agreement with John was something of a barter. He got to spank me stupid while he got a blowjob from me as well.
Wait a moment...
I tried to go as quickly as possible since I technically only had another thirty minutes to find a totally new person willing to apply the next punishment. But trying to rush a blowjob is a recipe for failure. I hadn’t told John about the time frame, which was probably a good thing because knowing him, he’d have deliberately tried to hold off cumming in order to make me earn Master Brandon’s little “motivational help.”
When John popped I swallowed eagerly, getting practically every last drop down my throat. He leaned back, closing his eyes with a huge smile on his face, so he didn’t see me yank up my pants. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and hurried back out to the truck, listening to his laughing protest at me having to “blow and run.” At the truck the only thing I took my time to do was turn off the RVP, then rushed to get to Julie’s apartment. With less than eight minutes to go before I’d blown my time limit, I didn’t have a moment to lose. I knew she’d be getting ready for work, but she was the only person I could think of that was both close and more than willing to handle the next item on Master Brandon’s list. Besides, the list had been specific about what I’d earn with my second orgasm and I have to say that Julie was perfect to met out the second punishment for orgasm.
I parked the truck, turned the RVP back up and realized I was also at my fifteen minute point. So I turned the vibrator function up to full power, clenching and gasping, and hurried toward Julie’s apartment, weaving my way past huge potholes, dried mud slurries, and the worst landscaping job in Katy. She had no idea I was coming and I pounded on the door hard. A minute later she appeared, bleary-eyed, with no makeup, and looking just a little bit frazzled. It was still early, not even eight, and she wouldn’t need to be at work for another hour and a half.
Before she could even say anything I stepped into her foyer, baring my beautiful breasts, my shirt and bra yanked upward. Julie isn’t the sort of girl to turn down a free lunch and the sight of my breasts did exactly what I suspected it would. Even surprised, with no idea what was going on, Julie responded just as expected. She immediately slapped me across the chest. I gasped as the pain slid through me and then she went sort of nuts, smacking my breasts back and forth violently, turning the soft, white curves into heavy, hot globes of pink.
It hurt, despite the insane buzzing between my legs and it was difficult just to keep breathing. Finally Julie stopped and looked up at me with an accepting grin. “Good morning, slut.”
“Thank you,” I managed to say whisper, then tugged down my bra and shirt and turned back to the door. Julie’s mouth fell open in shock as I left, hurrying down the path. She darted out of her apartment, but her bare feet kept her from following me. Only an idiot walks barefoot through her complex.
“Hey! What the fuck?” she yelled at me, hanging onto the stairs right by her door.
“Assignment!” I yelled back to her, hurrying to my truck. I wanted the RVP off before I exploded again. Or before half her neighbors came out to see what the commotion was all about.
“Damn you, Breanne! You used me!” she shouted, shaking her fist. I didn’t hear the other things she said to me. I was already in the truck, the RVP off, driving away.
I made it home feeling just a bit tender, especially across my bottom and boobs, but I also felt refreshed and ready to take on more. As soon as I parked the truck I checked the times and realized it was time to turn the RVP back on, as well as up. This time I selected the twirling function, set it to high, and felt myself ripening fast as the motorized sex toy churned between my legs. Even with my jeans tightly buttoned up I could feel the gentle motion of the RVP’s base caressing my petals, spreading them every so slightly, all while the majority of the sensorial smorgasbord focused on my clitoris.
I only barely made it through that fifteen minutes and I can credit my success with the fact that I was taking care of chores, focusing on some of the more unpleasant tasks cowgirls are required to do. It didn’t change the fact that I was desperate, horny, wet, and dealing with the steady churn and burn of the RVP rattling and rolling along and in my very moist and needy slit. I made it only about an hour after getting back to the farm before I was bucking my hips wildly, gripping a thick metal irrigation pipe, while the RVP forced waves of pleasure soaked cries out of me. My loins tightened around the spinning, vibrating cock and I throttled it sexually until I was lost in the grip of orgasm. Resistance Breanne? I thought an hour was damned decent of me. After cumming I tugged out the list.
“Third Orgasm - Twenty rubber band snaps to each sole.”
Sighing, I headed back to the barn and once more climbed into my truck. Breakfast wouldn’t be with family that morning and after I turned off the RVP and headed back into town, I stopped at a fast food joint, still dressed in my cowboy boots, jeans, tee shirt, and oxford. The RVP controls were once again adjusted to “broil Breanne” and food was on my mind when I actually went in, but with the thirty minute time frame already down to just five or ten minutes, with no good options on the table, I decided to be a bit more open minded.
Glancing around I looked for the right sort of guy. That one over there was too dump and would probably turn me down, thinking I was too good for him, regardless of my request. The one over there? Too high strung. Look at him drink his coffee! And it’s in a bucket instead of a cup! And that one? Businessman. Probably will resist. My eyes moved on and that’s when I saw him. He was just finishing up. College age, short hair, blue jeans and a polo shirt, and the look he was giving me made his interest clear. I got my breakfast to go and caught up with him just as he was leaving.
“Hi!” I said brightly. “Got a second?” I asked him.
Had he tires instead of legs he’d have screeched to a halt with smoke coming up from both tires.
“Sure,” he said with interest. “What’s up?”
Oh my God, to be handed an opening like that… I grinned like a Cheshire cat, the RVP spinning and shaking inside me. “You wouldn’t believe me,” I assured him. “But I was hoping you might give me a hand with something,” I told him easily. I’ve got this way about me that either sets men at their ease or makes them salivate. Dressed like I was, South Texas redhead cowgirl, it was more of the former.
“Sure. What do you need?” he asked, now more curious than baffled as to why a cute redhead-next-door-cowgirl wanted to speak to him.
I cocked my head to the side. “You sure? It’s a bit kinky,” I warned him.
Wow. You should have seen his eyes brighten at THAT remark. “I can handle it,” he said, wondering where this conversation was headed. I smiled and leaned in close, putting my lips to his ear, and told him.
His eyes widened and….
What? You want to know what I said? How I broached the subject? You want the nitty-gritty details? The sweet words I whispered into his ear? Really? Sigh… Fine.
“I accidentally had an orgasm I wasn’t supposed to have and the punishment is having a rubber band snapped against the soles of my feet twenty times each. Think you could handle that in exchange for the best blowjob of your life?”
His eyes widened and his head jerked back in shock. You could see the wheels turning, trying to decide if I were being serious and I let my eyes flash to match my smile. “Told you it was kinky!” I said wickedly.
“No shit!” he replied. Then he glanced around as if confused. “Where would we…” his voice trailed off, but I knew what he was talking about. I’m a pretty smart girl.
“Well we can do the snaps right out by my truck, but I’m guessing you’d like something more private for the other thing, right?” I asked.
He nodded eagerly. “Do you live around here?” I asked.
“Yeah, but we can’t go there,” he said.
I reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’ll work it out. I promise.” Then I dragged him out of the restaurant. Leading him across the parking lot I pulled him to my truck. He followed me right up to the driver’s seat and then gave me a curious look as I pulled the rubber bands out of my jean’s pocket.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked.
I nodded. “I sure am. I’ve been a bad girl this morning. I’m on my third orgasm!” I said, now that we were away from anyone who might be listening.
He blinked. “What happens if you have a fourth?”
“Alligator clamps,” I replied. “And I’m not terribly looking forward to that,” I assured him. I sat down in the seat and began pulling off my boot and sock. I stuck my right foot out toward him, the pretty, painted toenails perfectly pink.
“Go on. Put the rubber band on me.”
He did, but he gave me a cautious look as well. “I’m trying to understand why you want me to do this.”
My eyebrow went up. “I told you. It’s a punishment.”
“For having an orgasm,” he said, still wrapping his mind around the idea.
I nodded. “That’s right. Oh… no. Slide it down so that it’s right on the arch. Yeah. Right there. That’s where it will hurt the most.”
“You want to be hurt?” he asked incredulously.
I laughed. “Ever hear of BDSM?” I replied.
He had the decency to blush. “Guess that’s a yes,” I said teasingly. “Well I’m pretty big into it. So far this morning I’ve been spanked and had my breasts slapped.”
That certainly interested him. “Really? Can I see?” he asked. I’m guessing he thought it was a long shot, but with a quick glance around, I determined I could get away with a little flash, so I tugged up both my shirt and bra and showed him the flushed skin of my bosom. Of course his eyes were more drawn to the little gold hoop that was piercing my right nipple, not to mention the small, charm-sized padlock dangling from it. That certainly got his attention and assured him that my “kinkiness” claim was on the level.
He grinned and I couldn’t help smiling back. “Put your ear down by my pussy,” I said earnestly.
“What?” he exclaimed, shocked by the suggestion.
I giggled. “I want you to hear something!” I said. He did, leaning forward, putting his hand on my thigh as I spread my denim clad legs. I know the moment he got close he finally heard it - the RVP purring on low. He straightened up, a shocked expression on his face.
“What the hell is that?” he asked.
“RVP,” I replied. “Rotating Venus Penis. That’s what set me off and made me cum. Now, are you ready to snap that rubber band?” I pulled my shirt and bra back down over my boobs and held up my foot.
“You really want me to do this?” he asked, still somewhat concerned.
I nodded. “I know it will hurt, but I’m a bit of a masochist. Trust me.” I said. “Just twenty snaps.
“In exchange for a blowjob,” he repeated, as if he were afraid I’d gyp him. I grinned. “Do a good job and I’ll give you a blowjob AND go on a date with you.” I paused. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Ted,” he replied and slid his hand down my leg to my heel. He cupped my foot and his fingers tugged the elastic outward.
“That’s right, Ted. Pull it out as far as it will go,” I said, watching as he stretched the rubber band. He got to about five inches and then, with our eyes meeting, he let go.
My reaction was typical. My leg jerked slightly. My toes curled, and I said “oww.” Ted looked up at me as if needing permission to continue. I nodded. “Just nineteen left,” I said.
So Ted started snapping. Each fresh strike of the elastic left a tiny red mark and by the time we got to fifteen I was having just a bit of an issue holding it together. Worse, the RVP was combining with the pain and I was getting close to another orgasm, which was bad because I was also a few minutes away from having to turn up the damn thing.
“You okay?” Ted asked. I nodded, my chest heaving. “It just smarts,” I said, hissing as he snapped again and my entire foot twitched, jerking in his hand. “Just go fast. I want this foot done.”
He shook his head in wonder and yanked on the elastic again. “I can’t imagine how much this hurts,” he said, letting the rubber band snap back against my tender arch.
I let out a tiny cry that morphed into a hiccup and a laugh. “You should see me when I’m in my heels, trying to walk!”
Ted grinned. “I can imagine!” he said.
“Or what the bottoms of my feet look like if they’ve been sapped, or caned!” I exclaimed as he snapped the rubber band again.
“What’s a sap?” he asked. I looked up, hissing again. “It’s a little leather paddle, about as big as my hand. If I’m going to be hit with it though, I’d rather have it on my clit,” I admitted as he did the last snap. It seemed to hurt twice as much.
“You let people whip your pussy?” he asked, stunned.
I was breathing hard, and not all of it was from the snapping of the rubber band on my foot. “If you’re good I’ll let you try it on our date.”
“Damn girl, you are kinky!” he laughed. I pulled my bare foot out of his grasp and began pulling the boot off my left leg. He grabbed hold, helping out and in short order he was snapping away at my other foot.
“Soooo,” he asked while pulling the rubber band outward. “What do you do for a living?””
I yelped a little when he let go and then gave him a quirky grimace. “Honestly? Farming. But I sort of have a side job too.”
“And what’s that?” he asked, pulling the rubber band back out. Way out. I waited for him to let go, wincing painfully as the sting burned through my sole and pain shot up my leg, straight to the RVP where it was churned into sexual need.
“I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut who gets sex assignments, does them, and then writes about them,” I hissed.
Ted’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding,” he said, totally forgetting to snap the rubber band.
“Nope,” I said, my voice strained. “In a couple of days you’ll be a character in a blog post and eventually be in a book.”
His eyes widened in alarm and I laughed through the burning sensation in my left foot. I waved my hand. “Don’t worry. I change everyone’s name. No one will know it was you.” He seemed to relax a bit at that, then pulled the rubber band out and let it go. I jerked again and yelped.
“Nympho humiliation pain slut,” he said, repeating it as he drew the rubber band outward once again.
I nodded, then flinched, then hissed as the rubber band cut into my delicate sole. Ted looked at me and my clothing. “What does that mean exactly?” he asked.
“Sexy or slutty?” I asked instead as his fingertips slid across the soft part of my foot and once again pulled on the elastic strip.
“Our date. Do you want me dressed sexy or slutty?”
He laughed. “There’s a difference?”
Now I chuckled. “Yes, dummy. Slutty is me in a little school girl outfit with half my ass showing and my boobs practically hanging out.”
That description certainly made him think and his grin certainly made it clear he wouldn’t mind me showing up in just that getup.
“Sexy is me in a little black dress sporting a low collar and a high hemline, with every curve on intimate display.”
Ted looked interested and thoughtful, then let the rubber band go.
“Oww!” I protested.
“Gotta go with slutty,” he admitted.
I shrugged. “Okay. Slutty it is.”
“One more,” he told me. “That last one was nineteen.”
I nodded. “I’m ready.” He pulled the rubber band outward, stretching it as far as it could go and my eyes widened. He held it there for a moment and then cut loose, letting it strike the now quite reddened center of my foot.
“Oww!” I squealed, grabbing my foot, yanking it away from him. “Damn!”
“Hurts?” he asked.
“Damn right it does!” I hissed, rubbing at the sole with my fingers. It didn’t really help. Finally I took a deep breath and looked at him. “You ready for that blowjob?” I asked, grabbing my socks and slipping my feet back into them one at a time.
“Really? You mean that?”
I nodded and then straightened in my seat. I took a quick look around, spotting the perfect place a second later. There was a Mexican restaurant just on the other side of the McDonald’s and both a little fence, alley, and dumpster. I jammed my foot into a boot, then did the other one, sliding to the pavement a moment later.
“Come with me,” I said, grabbing his hand.
It took some clever maneuvering, and we had to walk out to the road first, but eventually we were tucked in behind the dumpster. We could see my truck from our vantage point, at least until I ducked down and began unbuttoning his pants.
“This seems awkward,” he said.
I looked up at him. “Enjoy it. Think of it as a preview of our date.” I reached in and found his shaft, very stiff, pleasingly thick, and long enough to be considered slightly above average. I gave it an experimental slurp and even liked the flavor.
“Oh my God,” he whispered.
As I began sucking my other hand went down to my pocket, fishing the controller of the RVP out. For kicks, I pushed it into his hand. A second later both the rotation and the vibrating functions were jacked up to full power and my entire body spasmed with desperate need. I groaned, my head bobbing frantically on his shaft, wishing Ted’s cock was in my pussy instead of my mouth. He groaned and I tried to focus on what was right in front of me, instead of what was deep inside of me. Too bad they were too close in nature, because I was cumming half a moment later even as Ted was jerking his hips back and forth, filling my mouth with loads of cream. I swallowed obediently, taking his load, grinning and cumming, moaning and twitching. Ted fell back against the wall and I followed, leaning against him, my hips grinding wetly beneath my denim jeans. We were both breathless. I felt fantastic, at least until my sex-soaked brain realized that I’d just done what I wasn't’ supposed to do. What I was supposed to resist.
I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth to make sure I’d gotten everything and helped Ted get himself squared away. The clock was already ticking and that thirty minute window in which to start the next punishment was getting smaller. Ted sensed my urgency and was a bit put off by it until we got back to my truck and exchanged phone numbers. I made him promise to call me that evening and we set our date time for Saturday evening. So with him all squared away, I climbed back into the truck, turned off the RVP and pulled out the punishment list.
“Alligator clamps, applied by someone else, on the nipples, worn till your next orgasm.”
Don't worry. Part Two comes out tomorrow.
Breanne Erickson is the author of over ten novels including the wildly popular "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut" Series. Check out the "Goddess of Dark Erotica" and take a trip down the wild side with her engaging narrative, self-depreciation and good-natured humor.