Fingered

I woke up wet, entangled in a wire, and flashes of the dream I’d just had still echoing in my head. I’d been lying on the floor of limousine, naked except for a pair of high heels that left my toes and arches exposed and wrapped around my ankle like a pair of bondage cuffs. I wasn’t able to see very much because another girl, wearing almost the exact same thing I had on, was straddling my face. In her hands was a whip, a knotted cord folded back to the handle and I stretched my legs wide apart as she was instructed to whip my slit until I managed to lick her to orgasm.

Quite the dream, huh? So you can understand why the very first thing I did was slide my finger down between my legs. They went right in too. No rubbing necessary. Had a man with a granite like cock been there he could have driven himself deep with a single thrust. That’s how wet I was. Hell, I’m surprised the National Weather Service hadn’t issued a flood warning for Harris County.

Of course my fingers weren’t the only things in there. A pair of plastic objects nestled in the waters of that sodden swamp. Off, the vibroballs in me were nothing more than a pair of oddities, barely moving as they floated through my nethers. But my other hand traced the wire, through my slippery petals, grazing my clit, along my bikini line, down my smooth thigh, around my knee, until I found the box. It was nothing more than a battery pack, powered by a pair of double A Energizers, and I twisted the little dial until the two submersibles in my sea powered up.

The vibrations? Oh my God. I swooned. I melted. I bucked. My back arched and my hands went from between my legs to yank up my shirt and pinch my nipples. I twisted the little padlock on my right breast, sending shards of pain through me that only emphasized the delicate little oscillations inside me. One hand went back to my clit, fingers drawing tight circles of wetness and I tensed even more. My body shook with need and I wanted the power turned up. I groped for the controller, with every intention of setting it to maximum, giving myself the relief I needed.

And my fucking phone rang.

“Good morning, princess!” Julie’s voice came to me across the ether. I groaned in response as I turned off the vibroballs. My pussy didn’t like that. It contracted in tiny little spasms. There was a momentary pause on the end of the line as she listened to my whimper of despair. “Either I just woke you up from a wet dream, or you’re in the middle of being incredibly naughty,” she said knowingly.

I grimaced. I hate it when people know me so well. I steeled myself. “What do you want, Julie?”

She laughed. “Ah. I interrupted coitus. Are you with someone or are you doing yourself?”

I sighed. “Me, my vibroballs, and my fingers,” I said informatively. “And I’m desperate,” I added, hoping she’d take pity on me.

Julie snorted. “When are you not desperate?”

“When I’m in your arms,” I replied sweetly. It never helps to suck up, right?

I heard her laugh. “Ah… you’re so sweet! Except I know you’re trying to wheedle permission to cum out of me.”

I frowned but didn’t say anything. Sometimes you have to assert your Fifth Amendment right not to incriminate yourself.

“Since you’re being so nice, I guess I will be too,” she said next.

I let out the breath I’d been unconsciously holding. She was going to let me cum! Thank God. My fingers started sliding back down between my legs and I shivered when I touched my clit.

“Today’s toy will be your ben wa balls. And you can cum as much as you want,” she said.

I slipped a finger deep and groaned. Oh God yes. She was going to be nice!

“But you can’t touch yourself. If you want to cum you have to have a stranger’s hand between your legs. Girl or guy, it doesn’t matter.”

I froze, my finger half inside me, my palm pressed against my clit as my brain tried to process her words.

“What?” I stammered.

“Take your fucking hand out of you cunt,” Julie said angrily. I pulled my hand out from between my legs, my finger gooey.  “Now let me repeat myself. You can’t touch your pussy. If you want to cum, it has to be with someone else’s fingers, and it can’t be anyone who has already touched you sexually. You want to cum, then go out somewhere and spread your legs for someone.”

I blinked. This was… this was… I couldn’t even articulate what it was. It was bad, because it meant public humiliation, desperation, and delayed gratification. I’m never good at delayed gratification. And it was awesome. My God what a turn on! I’d have instantly moistened at the idea if it wasn’t for the fact that I was already running my own version of Noah’s Disaster.

“Now pull the vibroballs out. Put in your ben wa balls, and I think you should dress in one of those short, flared skirts Kari bought you. You know, maybe that blue one. I like that one. Every time you sit down it doesn’t cover your ass.”

I bit my lip. This was getting worse and worse.

“And Bre, no panties. I shouldn’t have to tell you that of course, but just in case, make sure your cute little pussy is bare and ready to flash.”

Now I was feeling a bit surly. “I suppose you want me braless too, wearing that belly button baring crisscross blouse too.”  It was meant to be snarky.

“Wow! That’s a great idea! Thanks for suggesting it! You’ll look great asking random strangers to stick their hand up your skirt.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “But what about Kari? I’m supposed to work today!”

Julie laughed. “That’s your problem. If you aren’t out having orgasms all day I’m fine with that, especially since tomorrow you have a totally new assignment set to go. Remember? The one Master Matt suggested? What was it again? Edging every hour with punishments set for accidental orgasm or if your edges are progressively shorter? So don’t cum today. You don’t have to humiliate yourself. Put in the ben wa balls and suffer all day.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said something mean. “I hate you.”

Julie laughed. “Oh. I know you don’t mean that. Unless you want a pussy whipping when you get home tonight?”

My entire lower half tightened and my pussy went into convulsions at that thought.

“I really hate you,” I said hopefully.

She chuckled. “Now you’re just trying to get me to punish you. Have fun today!” Then she hung up.

I groaned and threw the phone. It landed somewhere on the floor of the room with a thud. Slowly I sat up, my lower half churning with need. With a snarl I grabbed the wires that led from the battery pack to the vibroballs and I tugged them out, which was neither helpful nor decent to my state of mind. I fell back in the bed, my pussy now grasping at nothing while I held up two slimy plastic orbs. I tossed them away in frustration where they landed next to my phone. Then I climbed out of bed.

It took me twenty minutes to feel human, though I had to spend the entire time ignoring the ache between my legs. I showered, brushed my teeth, and did all the other normal things I’m supposed to do, including squirting a half teaspoons worth of grapeseed oil up my ass. Preparation. It’s the only way to conduct yourself. Finally I stood in my bedroom naked and started to get ready for the day.

The first thing was the ben wa balls. Nothing more than two silicon covered spheres the size of a golf ball, the ben wa balls are hollow inside and have a small ringing weight. Diabolical, they roll and chime with every step, but so lightly that they haven’t driven me into an orgasm in years. And yet, I could guarantee that I’d be wet and wanting the entire fucking day. It was torture. That’s what it was.

Slipping them in was just about as agonizing. Not because it hurt, but because my pussy was finally getting what it wanted, at least for a moment. Penetration is sweet and I laid back on the bed and groaned as I spread my legs and pushed in the balls. Oh my God I wanted to rub myself into orgasm! I grit my teeth and sat up. Discipline, Breanne. Discipline.

The skirt Julie had ordered me to wear was a problem. The adjectives ninety-nine percent of the population would use to describe the skirt is “too short.” I pulled it up over my bare ass and glanced in the floor length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. Not good. You could actually see the little half globes of my ass hanging out from under the hem when I turned. I pushed the waistband down lower. Lower. Now my hip bones were visible, but at least my bottom was covered. Or at least it would be until I sat myself down. I sighed. This was not office appropriate, despite what Kari thought.

Then I grabbed the blouse. It was light blue with dark blue swirls and it matched the skirt nicely. In fact, I would have liked the shirt if there was more of it. Instead it bared my shoulders, hugging my upper arms, only to angle across my chest, covering my breasts. It had a low neck line and the bottom hem angled up toward my sternum. It was elastic, so it held up my boobs like a bra and the material cupped each curve like paint. You could easily see the outline of my piercing and the padlock. I wasn’t dressed like a secretary. I was dressed like a sex kitten. Lastly I put on the shoes, a pair of six inch stilettos that matched the ones I’d been wearing in my dream.

Dressed, tormented, aching, wanting and yes… fucking cold, I headed out to the kitchen for breakfast, only to encounter my eight year old daughter, who took one look at me and rolled her eyes.

The rest of Breanne's amazing tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog. But don't despair! It can be found in her novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 13"!  Check it out now at Amazon.com!