Sunday, October 25, 2015

In Minutes

“You know,” said Alex. “This doesn’t seem very egalitarian.”

I glanced up over my shoulder and gave him a cold hard stare. He was standing at the end of the bed, naked except for a gold colored necklace that made his muscular chest look rather appetizing. He had a solid grip on his cock, rock hard and sticking straight out, looking like a battering ram ready to smash a castle’s back gate. Except it glistened, a bead of pre-cum on the tip, but mostly from the fact it had been in my mouth not a few seconds before.

“What I mean is that we started this with you doing that wonderful striptease, not that you really needed to with that shirt, especially with those amazing clamps on your breasts, only to have you drop down and give me the most incredible blowjob ever. It’s like your needs aren’t even an issue,” he said matter-of-factly as he stepped closer and I felt the tip of his well-lubricated shaft glide against my oiled bottom. “And now here you are, on all fours, essentially another kneeling position, your ass high up, with those sweet clamps and weights swinging from your tits, while I’m about to fuck, not your pussy, but your ass. Which I am now aware is something you don’t care for, and will provide no pleasure.”

I closed my eyes, my head dropping. Then I sighed. Alex wasn’t exactly wrong either. And this hadn’t even been the first time that day I’d had someone fuck me up the ass. The other times had been just like this too. Naked. On my knees. Three and a half pounds of steel weights hanging from my stretched out and throbbing nipples, my clit super sensitive, having to endure the penetrative impacts that would set my body swaying, those damn weights swinging violently. Dealing with the pain until the man inside me finally came. Only then would relief, of a sort, be allowed.

My RVP, or Rotating Venus Penis, a diabolical sex toy seemingly designed with me in mind, sat waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. My peasant blouse, a horrible shirt given to me by one of the ladies of the Society of the Golden Rose, was carefully folded next to it, sitting atop a blue slit skirt. The slit went from hem to waistband, but fortunately it went up my right thigh, exposing a lot of skin, but avoiding public nudity charges even if every man who saw me walk in it tried to move to my two o’clock position to get a glimpse of my shaved pussy.

My second paramour had wanted me to keep the high heels on, but Alex had asked me to take them off, so the stripper shoes I’d teetered on over to his apartment now waited for me on the floor next to the bed. I felt Alex’s fingers on my waist, pulling me backward and I let out a tiny whimper of resigned discomfort. The tip of his cock was not where I’d have preferred it to be, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I mentally braced myself, tried to relax and open up, but the body’s instinctive response to pressure along the anal sphincter does not lend itself well to the act of sodomy. Which is why Alex pushed harder. I’d lubed myself well before heading over and the oil I’d squirted into my bottom made the resistance meaningless. The long and thick sausage slid in a full inch, then went deeper with a single thrust. I groaned, mostly in discomfort. It’s long been a mantra of mine that the anus is an exit, not an entrance. But at that moment all I could confidently claim was that regardless of in or out, my bottom was certainly fuck meat.

“As I was saying,” Alex said as he began thrusting deeply, making the weighted clamps clinging to the tips of my breasts swing hard. “This seems particularly demeaning to a girl. Forcing her to be constantly on her knees, always subservient. But to also make it this painful instead of giving her at least a little pleasure seems inherently cruel.”

I gasped. His entire monologue had been punctuated by the rapid slap of his balls against my thigh, accompanied of course by the brutal piercing of my colon. My body tightened convulsively around Alex’s cock, but the oil kept him moving easily. In fact, my body’s negative response was probably giving him a better fuck.

“Admittedly,” he continued, his hips grinding against my buttocks. “I like the way your tits look clamped like that. Those clover clamps must hurt like the dickens though. I know that Mike filed them so that each pad has ridges, but that just seems even crueler. I mean, you don’t even have the possibility of having them slip off if too much weight is applied.” He paused. “Or I mean a reasonable weight. “I have to wonder… if we tied your hands behind your back and attached a hundred pounds of weight to those clamps, and tossed you in a pool, whether or not the clamps would withstand you trying to get to the surface.”

“Alex!” I protested, my voice wavering from the anal discomfort. “There are limits! Trying to drown me is crossing a line.”

Alex jammed his cock in deep again, cutting off my protest so that it ended with a groaning squeal.  “It was just a thought. It’s not like I’m going to actually do it.”  He gave me four more really powerful thrusts before going back to the steady, deep fucking he’d been doing before. “Still, I like the image.”

“Extreme duress?” I gasped.

“Exactly. You know, I’ve been reading some of your Skeleton Closet stuff. You’ve got a dark mind. Sick even,” Alex said, again punctuating his words with repeated anal ingress. I whimpered darkly. “I mean, sure… I get it. You’re a pain slut. A nympho humiliation pain slut. But you’ve written stories about you being publicly raped and executed. And if that isn’t sick, I don’t know what is.”

I let out another groan of protest. “It’s a fantasy, Alex. Fiction. It’s meant to tantalize the senses. The imagination. Nothing else.”

“So me stuffing you with a waterproof vibrator on full power, weighting your nipples with a hundred pounds and tossing you into the pool excites you?”

I grit my teeth. “Not right now,” I muttered as he continued to jam himself into my rear end.

“So why is your clit all red and swollen?” He asked. The bastard was taking his time. I could tell. He was enjoying this.

“You know why,” I replied, glancing over at the RVP. He must have too because he laughed. “So, all day?”

Breanne Erickson's amazing tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog. You can find it in Breanne's book "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 12!" Available from!

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