Responsible - Part One

“I am not responsible,” I declared in a tense and very strained voice, “for cum stains.” I glanced over to my left, looking at Kari as she laughed in response. Her delicate fingers shifted gears and the convertible’s engine seemed to hum in time with the vibroballs.

“You aren’t supposed to be cumming at all,” she said darkly. Her eyes danced over my twitching, exposed body and gave me a quick appraisal. “Are you close? You can always turn the vibroballs off, you know.”

I glared at her. I was agitated; mostly at being in this predicament in the first place. The Thrusting Anal Vibe, which she’d unceremoniously slid into my bottom that morning, wriggled inside my ass, its own oscillations just slightly off-beat when compared to the incessant buzz of the vibroballs Kari had popped into the opposite opening.

“I mean lubricant,” I stressed as my pussy tightened up around the twin spheres oscillating in my sex. “Maybe you should have let me wear panties.” It came out sort of snarly and Kari patted my bare leg, her fingers gliding along my upper thigh.

“You know the rules;” she said lightly. “No cumming. Turn the vibroballs off if you must.”

I bit my lip. Yes, that was certainly an option. But so was just saying “screw it” and letting a massive orgasmic climax rip through me like a bullet through a beer can. She hadn’t been too specific about the punishment so maybe being naughty was worth it.

“And in case you’re thinking that the punishment might be worth it, be aware that after I put you through your paces later I will strap you into a chastity belt and deny you orgasm for at least a week.

The color drained from my face. Kari had actually done that to me once. I’d nearly gone insane and there were still streaks of banana fucking nuts crazy in me when such an ordeal is even mentioned. I don’t handle denial well. Oh sure, two or three days I can handle, provided you don’t mind a very moody, emotionally distraught, desperate to fuck anything even remotely cock shaped, girl around you. But a week? By Day 5 I’m sort of beyond caring what I can manage to use to bring myself to orgasm. I’ll hump a chainsaw in that state. And at Day 7? Well… it’s not pretty.

The front of the peasant blouse I was wearing fluttered up thanks to the cold air blasting out of Kari’s air conditioning and I squealed, arms coming up to smooth the thin, pleated material back down over bare breasts. It wasn’t easy. The clamps got in the way.

“Look,” Kari continued ignoring the flashing bosom, the hardened tips of my breasts, and the copper wire coated clamps. “I don’t see what your problem is. You’ve already turned the vibroballs off three times and you get to leave them off for a full thirty minutes. That’s more than enough time to get your libido in check.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “While my tits and clit fry,” I said. Kari might have thought that thirty minutes of electricity shooting through my clit and nipples would be a counterpoint to the intense stimulation of the vibroballs, but she was wrong. At least when the Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulator was set to level one, or two, or even three. That wasn’t painful at all. In fact, it was more like a caress. I’d reeled from one near orgasmic precipice to another.

Kari grinned but didn’t reply.

 Curious to know what happened next? We totally understand! We wanted to know too! Fortunately, the rest of this amazing tale is available for purchase at Amazon.com! Check out Breanne's "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 15!"