Thursday, November 6, 2014

Second Story

The looks I was already getting bordered on sexual harassment, but I guess it was to be expected.  After all, I might as well have been naked standing there.  I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it as the air swirled along the underside of my breasts, the short peasant blouse swinging in response to filling my lungs.  The shirt, if you could call it that, was nothing more than a cream colored drape running from shoulder to shoulder, the collar just above my breasts.  The problem was that the curtain covering my bosom was only seven or so inches long, which as far as dressings go barely kept my breasts covered and since there was no contour to the blouse and it ended literally just at the bottom of my boobs, every man within ten feet tried desperately to look up my shirt, which admittedly was a little different. Usually men try to look down.  

My midriff was startlingly bare, at least until you got down past my navel, and I mean way past my navel.  The skirt I had slung around my hips was a low rider, loose and blue in color.  The hem flared so while it hugged my butt I had the freedom of movement needed to do stupid slutty things, like spread my legs without having the damn thing roll up my thighs.  Like the blouse, I had nothing on underneath; no bra or panties, and the butterflies inside me were going nuts as I stepped closer to the rail, toward humiliating exposure.  My thumb went to my waistband where the remote control for the vibroballs was quietly tucked while at the same time I glanced down at the silver watch on my left wrist.  A moment later I felt the soft rumble of the two ovoid pellets inside me come to life.  I let out a soft gasp as my pussy clenched around the two vibrating toys.  Reaching out, I took hold of the rail and looked down.  The railing itself was nothing but glass with a wooden top.  Quite a few people were walking beneath me and as I spread my legs slightly I blushed crimson, knowing that all anyone needed to do was look up.

It was nerve wracking and I quivered; not from sexual need but from fright.  Here I was, standing in public, people on my own level staring at the barely dressed redhead girl standing at the railing. I leaned forward, trying to look comfortable, my elbows resting on the rail.  The folks below seemed to be oblivious, despite the fact that a single glance upward would give them the opportunity to look right up my skirt and definitely up my blouse.  That thought made my sex tighten around the vibroballs again and I bit my lip, restraining my urge to flee.

I was wearing high heels too, though they weren’t my stripper shoes.  Sporting three inch heels, they were strap sandals that had a pretty intense arch and according to Kari, who had bought them for me, made my feet look delicate and scrumptious.  Whatever the hell that means.  They weren’t any more comfortable than my stripper shoes, but I had better balance in them and didn’t have to wear a red light on my head in order alert low flying aircraft that I was a good nine inches taller than usual.

The minutes ticked by and I couldn’t help squirming. I just couldn’t settle.  Each little jerk of my hips seemed to set the hem of my skirt swinging and it took me only five minutes to realize that my slightly bent over position made the exposure of my breasts even more evident, while actually lifting the back of my skirt slightly.  I could feel the wetness of my sex trembling around the vibroballs and I realized that I was approaching the whole thing with the wrong mindset. I should be trying to cum.  I mean, that was the point.  I had ten minutes to set myself up for an explosion.  And if it happened, I’d be done. Finished. No longer required to humiliate myself in public.  All I needed to do was climax.

We're sorry, but the rest of this tale is now only available in Breanne Erickson's amazing novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 10" Now available from!

Breanne, for this assignment you will dress in your short peasant blouse and your loose, flared blue skirt.  You will bring your vibroballs, all three alligator clamps, and vibrating anal beads with you.  You will drive to any mall that has two stories, insert the vibroballs, and then position yourself on the second story, right next to the railing.  You will then turn the vibroballs to low.  You have ten minutes to cum. You are not allowed to touch yourself.  Should you fail to orgasm you will turn off the vibroballs, find a private spot and attach the alligator nipple clamps to your breasts.  You will then return to the railing and again spend ten minutes trying to cum.  Should you again fail to achieve climax, you will turn off the vibroballs, again find a quiet spot, and attach the jumbo alligator clamp to your clit.  You again will try to cum, with the vibroballs still on low, within a ten minute time span.  Should you fail a third time, you will turn off the vibroballs, find a private spot, and insert the vibrating anal beads.  For your fourth attempt you will turn both the beads and the vibroballs to their maximum setting for the ten minute duration.  Should you fail to cum you are to find a willing partner who will deliver twenty spanks to your bottom and breasts.  If you are successful, you may turn off the vibroballs and beads.

You will however, leave all the clamps and toys attached or in.  In order to remove them, regardless of your success at cumming, you will need to suck one cock for each item. Have Fun.

1 comment:

  1. Nice story - as usual, but I have to ask. Are you following NHPS Rule #6? I can't find it on the Breanneapedia and I seem to recall you agreeing to it, yet you never mention it. Sorry, but the truth is that if you're sitting down at the computer - for anything - checking e-mail, writing, chatting, or just playing fucking solitare, I personally want your horny as hell, wanting, and hurting. I want your chair to be a wooden horse. I want your clit clamped and fried every time you touch the keyboard. When you access your e-mail your nipples should be aching, clamped, and weighted. I want electrodes on your clit, shocking you. I want every electronic, digital moment to be one where your body is twitching and can't tell whether to scream in agony or cum violently. So... are you following NHPS Rule #6?


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