Saturday, December 30, 2017

A NHPS Christmas - Part Two

“Here Bre,” my mother said to me with a smile. I sat amid the debris of Christmas morning, paper, ribbons, and bows scattered around the family room. We were at my apartment and my daughter was lying on her stomach, playing her new video game thingy, surrounded by more toys than any ten year old girl really needed. My parents had been unusually generous, perhaps feeling guilty they didn’t spend as much time with her as they used too. But they weren’t the only ones. The video game thingy had been a gift from Kari. Julie had bought her several games to go with it. Mike the Hardware Guy had gotten her a compact, but totally functional tool set, along with several wooden “project kits”. Alex had gotten her a chemistry set. Savannah and Kylie gave her two new dresses, and Sara and Alex had given her an exquisite jewelry box that was well beyond what I’d been able to afford.

I’d been fortunate too, not that you could tell. I’d pretty much hidden everything away the moment it was unwrapped. There had been several boxes of new clothes from Kari, none of which I could really bring out and show off, since my mother thought I was a personal assistant and not a stripper. Why disillusion her? There were three pairs of new shoes, none of which were appropriate for wearing anywhere other than a fancy bedroom, laying horizontal on a mattress. Though I admit, I did sort of like the black, leather knee high boots. Even though the heel was a little extreme. There was a box of lotions, oils, and yes - lubricants, which I’d been forced to sort of set aside, lest my mother wonder.

But as Christmas was winding down, egg nog in hand, and my favorite Christmas tunes playing in the background, my mother handed me an envelope. The paper was thick and creamy, and my name was scrawled in elegant penmanship on the front. Kari’s handwriting. I tore it open.

“Dearest Bre,

I have one more present for you today, but you’ll need to pick it up. Please go to the following address at one o’clock. You’ll need about thirty minutes to get there. Your parents have agreed to watch Rachel for me. I know it’s cold outside, so you may wear your coat, but nothing else, except one of the new pairs of shoes I bought you. And now that I think of it, Julie’s gift would be appropriate too. I love you. Thank you for being part of my life. Merry Christmas.”

There was a small piece of paper with directions and an address. I glanced up at my mother, who smiled knowingly at me. “Go,” she said. “Kari loves you.” She said it knowingly. Across the way my dad nodded. I stood up, grabbed the boots, and headed back to the bedroom. I didn’t have a lot of time. Of course, I didn't need to get dressed. Quite the opposite in fact.

Twenty minutes later I climbed into my old, silver, Saturn SL sedan, the knee high leather boots feeling smooth and warm against my calves. My heavy winter coat was more than enough to block out the fifty degree weather, even with nothing else between it and my skin. I squirmed slightly, feeling the uncomfortable bulge of Julie's gift, filling up my ass. As for the toy of the day, well… Kari had told me to go without. An unusual occurrence to be sure, but I’d chalked it up to both her and Julie wanting me to be relaxed for my family Christmas. Tough to open presents in front of your daughter and parents when you’re on the verge of cumming.

The Saturn coughed as I turned the key. It hadn’t weathered Hurricane Harvey very well, since it had been sitting in Julie’s apartment complex parking lot, which had flooded. It had taken several trips to the repair shop and still sounded like a ninety year old farmer puffing and coughing on a pipe. Water had seeped into the cabin too, and despite multiple washings, a carpet shampoo, and a ton of Febreeze, I really hadn’t been able to get the smell of bayou out. It was sixteen years old, and I’d joked several times that the car was old enough to get a license and drive itself.

The engine chumped and chuttered as I used my phone to navigate to the address. My confusion got deeper as I found myself in a pretty nice area of west Houston. I took the frontage road off of I-10, nostalgia and dismay mixing as I traveled the road back toward Katy, my hometown. So much development, so much change! Yet there was familiarity too. Then my phone chirped again, letting me know that I’d arrived at my destination.

Except, that couldn’t be right. It was a car dealership. It would be closed on Christmas. I kept going along the road and to my surprise, the gate leading in was open, with a very nice Jeep Grand Cherokee parked haphazardly nearby. The moment I pulled in, a man jumped out of the car and ran over toward me. I rolled down the window, just a little perplexed as he waved at me.

“Good afternoon Breanne!” He said brightly, grinning, obviously knowing either my dilapidated car or my face on sight. Might have been the hair too. “Ms. Anders asked me to meet with you. If you’ll just pull up, I’ll close the gate. Then you can follow me.”

I blinked, still totally clueless, but I nodded. My coat was closed tightly about me, but I was just a little self-conscious about my nudity just beneath. I pressed the tip of my black, knee high boot against the pedal and eased forward as he went behind my Saturn and shut the gate, effectively locking me in.

Oh boy.

He waved at me and ran back to his Cherokee, climbing in and shutting the door. His car moved and I followed it, down rows of similar vehicles, all brand new. He drove around the main building, and then back into a parking area near several others. He parked in one open spot, leaving a second one for me. I turned off my car as he got out and came over. He opened my car door for me and even offered me a hand. If my strange “flasher” attire phased him, he didn’t say a word. I double checked to make sure all the buttons were still.done up.

“You are absolutely going to love this,” he assured me.

“Love what?” I asked. Sometimes I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

He opened the door of the building and led me in. We walked through a small lobby, through a second set of doors, and out onto what appeared to be an old showroom floor. It was dark, but there were a few cars parked inside. He flipped a switch on the wall, and a single, bright light flashed on, illuminating a single, white, Jeep Wrangler Sport.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, grinning.

Then I got it.

My mouth dropped open as I stared at the jeep. It was beautiful. It was a soft top, the kind where you could remove the roof and let the wind blow through your hair. The windows were heavily tinted, but the doors were the kind you could remove with a just a pull of the pin. The wheels seemed huge, but the jeep wasn't oversized. Instead it seemed very… me. The car salesman took my elbow and pulled me forward. It was awkward. The boots had high, high heels and they clicked loudly on the tile. I was just too stunned.

“By the way, my name is Anthony,” he said as we got closer. “Ms. Anders asked me to be here and make sure the paperwork was handled appropriately.”

“Paperwork,” I repeated dumbly. My god. She’d bought me a car.

He laughed. “Oh, it’s all paid for of course. Wouldn’t be much of a Christmas present if it weren’t!” We got to the jeep and he patted the hood affectionately. “Last year’s model of course. It was on sale, but Ms. Anders got a good deal on it. It’s got all the features too. Sirius XM radio, the Garmin navigator, the four thirty N radio, with the 6.5 inch touchscreen.” He smiled fondly at the jeep. “Yep. Got it all. Even an Alpine All-Weather premium sound system.” He opened the driver’s door and plucked a blue cardboard folder from the front seat.

“I’ve got the paperwork here. Again, everything is paid for, so you don’t have to worry about anything. But you do need to sign the title paperwork, and the warranty.” He laid out a few pieces of paper and plucked a pen from his pocket. He handed it to me and pointed out a few lines where I was supposed to sign. I did it, not even bothering to read. I was just too flummoxed. She bought me a car. A fucking car!

Anthony took the paperwork and neatened it, then put it back into the folder. Then he fished out another envelope, as well as a set of keys. He cleared his throat and gave me a slightly uncomfortable look.

“Um… Ms. Anders had some other, more specific, instructions,” he said politely, holding up the envelope. I could see it was already open. “Evidently, as part of the gift, you are required to agree to what she called ‘stipulations’. There is a list of them here.” He fished a piece of paper out of the envelope and handed it to me. I took it, noticing only then that my hand was shaking.

Suddenly the impact of Kari’s gift seemed more real. I felt better. There was a catch. I knew there would be. I tore my eyes away from my new jeep and looked down at the paper.

“Dearest Bre,

Know first of all that I love you. You are precious to me in ways I sometimes have trouble articulating. You are more than just a sex object, despite your desire to be treated as such, and my desire to use, abuse, torment, and pleasure you.

The jeep is a gift. It is registered in your name. But in respect to the dominatrix who gave it to you, I ask that you abide by the following ‘stipulations’ while driving it.

1.    If the weather allows, and you are alone in the vehicle, or with someone who knows you are a fuckslut, you will drive sans clothing, wearing only shoes, bondage gear, and your choice of nIpple clamps. I left a pair I felt suitable.
2.    If the weather is not appropriate, and you are alone, or again with someone who knows, or can find out about your slutty nature, you at least must drive with your breasts bared and clamped.
3.    Every oil change or maintenance visit must be accompanied with a blowjob and nipple clamps.
4.    At every stop light you should edge yourself as close to orgasm as possible in the allotted time, either using your toy of the day, or the new vibrator that I put in your glove box.
5.    Lastly, once per month at a minimum, you must be thoroughly fucked and spanked, in or on top of, your new jeep. It's your responsibility to make sure this happens.

I love you. Enjoy driving. - Kari”

I gulped a little and lowered the paper. Anthony gave me an expectant look. “You don’t seem surprised.”

I shook my head. “Hardly. It all makes sense. She’s using this as another way to torment me. Pleasure and pain.” I took a deep breath. “Anything else?”

He gave me a more hopeful look. “She also told me that I shouldn’t give you the keys until the vehicle has been properly ‘baptized’ with your cum. She’d like you to masturbate in it once, before you go.” He grinned. “I’ve been told to watch, in order to verify that you did it.”

The silence was palpable, but after a moment I nodded. I could see Anthony wondering if it were all a joke. I wondered how much Kari had paid him to be here, on Christmas Day, with these oddball instructions. I bit my lip and reached out, opening the door to take a look at the interior. The inside was black and beautiful, but something glinted on the steering wheel. Threaded through it, and wrapped once, was a pair of silver clover clamps on a chain. I checked the pads. Filed into ridges. Of course.

I took a deep breath and slid into the jeep. It felt good, but it didn’t smell like a new car. It smelled like strawberries and vanilla, no doubt another personalized touch from my dominatrix boss. Those were her favorite scents on me. Kari has always felt that submissive girls should smell and taste like fruit. She wears lavender. I wriggled around slightly. The steel pear, the cap of which was sticking out of my ass, dug in deep and I couldn’t help letting out a small groan. Anthony hurried around the open door.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern. I nodded just sitting there, feeling it all. I glanced over at him.

“I guess you’re wondering what kind of a fucked up girl I am,” I said, my cheeks reddening. My right hand went down to my lap, falling on the lowest button of my coat. Anthony blushed too.

“Well, I mean…” he fumbled. “There are always…” He shook his head, then shrugged. “Rich people.”  

I laughed because I knew exactly what he meant. I was surrounded by rich people all the time, most of them clients who had the strangest ideas of what they wanted in their homes. Kari was constantly having to raise an eyebrow at outlandish requests. “I need a wall that looks like a faceted diamond.” Or “Please make the dining room look like something from an African forest.” Then there were the ones ordering me around, using me, taking me, punishing me, making me do things. Granted, it was all consensual, but the weird shit people with more money than brains come up with. Like that one guy who wanted me to take a bubble bath with him - and then brought out kid’s bath markers and drew all over me.  Or how about that one lady, who tried to hire me full time, away from Kari, to be living, naked furniture in her home. That was a strange one. No sex. No BDSM stuff. Just me… as a lamp. Or a table.

I moved my hand a second time, leaving the button above my sex unfastened, though the coat was still closed. Anthony didn’t seem to notice, since he was still staring at my face. I looked at the steering wheel where the clover clamps waited and with my free hand, reached up, touching them. Anthony’s gaze followed as I unthreaded them from the wheel, which is why he missed the third button.

But he didn’t miss the fourth. He noticed as I brought the clamps up. His eyes widened as I undid the last of the fasteners, then reached down between my legs. “How do I scoot the seat back?” I asked him, bending over. The coat gaped and his eyes widened in astonishment as he caught sight of my pierced and padlocked breasts. He darted forward, his hand grazing my leg, pressing the button on the side of the seat. Electronic. The motor rolled the seat back and I accidentally on purpose made sure the coat opened with every inch, leaving me naked and exposed from the knee up. Then I lifted my right leg and propped one booted foot up on the dash. I held out the clover clamps as an offering.

“I probably should be wearing these,” I told the car salesman.

“Oh my God,” he whispered.

I shook them. “Do you need an engraved invitation? A contract?” I asked sweetly.

Anthony swallowed and took the clamps from my hand. “Really?” He asked again, still uncertain.

I nodded and cupped my breasts, then had a better idea. I put my left hand down by the side of the seat and found the button that would let me tilt myself back. In seconds I was almost lying down.

“Behind the piercings please,” I told him.

He moved close, pinching open the clover clamp, and as he bored in on my left nipple, I reached out and put my hand on the bulge at the front of his pants. He jumped slightly, surprised, but then grinned as I began rubbing and stroking him. Then the clamp closed tightly on my nipple and I hissed, a pained look crossing my face.

“I’m sorry! Does it hurt?” He asked worriedly, reaching up to it. I grabbed his hand.

“It does,” I panted. “But it’s supposed to,” I told him. “Do the other nipple now.”

“But if it hurts…” he stammered.

I looked him in the eye. “I’m Breanne Erickson. I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut. That means the pain turns me on. It’s why Kari wants me to get a spanking.”

Anthony licked his lips. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really.”

He grabbed the other clamp, the chain between them light but strong, and clamped my other breast. Acute discomfort shot through my bosom and I moaned, then slid my hand down between my legs. I was empty, and now I regretted it. I’d wondered why I was spared from following NHPS Rule number one and maybe I was wrong about why they’d spared me. Maybe it was to make it possible for something to happen. Maybe it was for this.

“You know, why stop at just a masturbation?” I told Anthony, slipping my fingers through my slit. My petals were already wet and the circumstances were arousing me into full throttle anyway. I moaned loudly, teasing myself. “I think I need some cock.”

He blinked, his eyes still glued to my sex. “Oh yes,” he agreed. “Absolutely!”

“Know what I think would be a better way to christen this car?” I asked, my voice getting deeper, rougher, more sultry.

Anthony grinned. He’d read Kari’s letter too. “To get thoroughly spanked and fucked in it?”

I pulled my hand out from between my legs, sat up, and brought my foot down. I rotated out of the seat, shrugging out of the coat. I slid out of the jeep naked and clamped, my ass stuffed with the spread, steel pear, and I violated Anthony’s personal space, my hand on his cock, rubbing him through his trousers.

“On it,” I whispered, jerking my head toward the hood. “But first,” I said roughly. “I want your cock in my mouth.” Anthony groaned as I yanked my coat out of the jeep, dumped it on the floor, and went to my knees. I rotated him around until he was leaning against the left front wheel and hood and in seconds his cock was out, hard and supple, all at the same time. I loved the texture of his skin, the feel of his shaft, the heat of his need, and I took it all in my mouth with soft wetness. I bobbed my head, licked him in circles, and worked his trousers and boxers down lower so I could get to his scrotum. I used both hands and if ever a porn starlet did a job better than the one I did, I’ve not seen it. Except I stopped before the glorious ending.

Anthony was panting, hard and trembling, and I stood up, tugging him forward with one hand as I moved to the front of the jeep. It brought back memories of me stripping in front of my dad’s Ford F-150 on the farm to market road by our old ranch home. Of being humiliated in Kari’s convertible, legs spread, breasts bared, as truckers leered down at me. Of the time I was tied open, completely naked, in the bed of Mike’s pickup, covered in clothespins. Or the ride in that one limousine, where I stood naked, my top half up through the open sun roof, while the girls tormented me below.

“Turn my ass red,” I said softly. “Then fuck me hard.”

Anthony nodded, just a bit unsure, but as I bent over and braced myself, he slapped my bottom with enough strength to leave a little sting. I gasped.

“Oh god, yes!” I said. “Harder!”

He spanked me harder. I wriggled my cute little ass, practically kissing the hood of the jeep, and let Anthony put maybe a dozen more spanks on my derriere. It wasn’t enough to bring me to tears, or even put real heat in me, but I wanted him to fuck me.

“Now. Please!” I begged, probably way sooner than Kari would have approved of. “Fuck me hard!”

Anthony didn’t waste time. He kicked off his shoes, pants, and boxers, and even without me touching him, slid his still rock hard dick into my dripping cunt like a fuel pump going into the gas tank aperture. I gasped, thrilled, as he took my hips and began driving himself in with abandon. I bounced on the hood of the jeep, my breasts pressed to it, the rattle of the steel clamps on my nipples loud.

I felt him shudder, then gasp, and I realized that he was about to cum. I pulled away from him and squatted down in front of my new car, grabbing his cock, getting on my knees, and pumped him the last few inches until a stream of white jism shot out of his hose, splattered me across the face, into my open, waiting mouth, and dripped down my chin onto my bare breasts. Anthony let out a quiet groan as I took it. Then I sucked on him hard, drawing every last bit of cream from him until he softened in my mouth.

When he was done, he pulled out, despite my every intent to continue pleasuring him into another erection. I still hadn’t cum. I wiped my face and ended up with a handful of his spunk. I looked down at my hand, then turned and smeared it across the hood of the car. He looked shocked.

“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously. “Don’t do that.”

I shrugged. “It’s just cum. And this car is going to get bathed in it,” I said quietly. I glanced at my reflection in the window. My tits were pretty well sluiced too. I sighed. How appropriate. I grabbed my coat, threw it into the jeep and climbed in. I couldn’t wear it. Not like this. I needed a fucking shower, or at least time to let the spunk dry. Thank God the seats were vinyl. Kari knew me so well. Anthony finished getting dressed as I leaned over and opened the glove box. Inside was a brand new vibrator - white, to match the jeep. I raised the seat so I could sit upright, propped my right foot up on the dash, and brought the shaking tip of the toy to my pussy.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asked, coming around the door. “Wait? You didn’t cum?”

I let out a soft groan, my hips rolling. “No,” I said softly. “Besides, you said I had to masturbate in it,” I told him. Then, unwilling to wait, I pushed the phallus into me. It felt amazing. Anthony suddenly pulled out his phone.

“Can I take a picture?” He asked me softly.

I bit my lip, then nodded. “Yes. But only for you.” He stepped back as I posed and snapped the shot. I pumped the vibrator in and out and a few minutes later shuddered in sweet, sexual glory. A spray of girl goo came from my sex and soaked the seat and splattered the rain mat. I turned off the vibrator, but left it in, sighing in satisfaction.

Anthony smiled and before I knew it, he was dangling the keys in front of my nose. I took them, my hand wet. There was a key tag on it, a custom one, and on it, I saw Kari’s “Car Rules.”

  1. Drive naked if it’s warm.
  2. Drive bare breasted if it’s cold.
  3. Wear the clamps.
  4. Blowjob and clamps every maintenance visit.
  5. Edge at every stoplight.
  6. Once per month get fucked and spanked in or on top.

No way to forget them. I sighed, imagining my daughter reading the keychain. Great. Wonderful conversation that will be. I took them from Anthony.

“Thanks,” I said wryly. I stuck the key into the ignition and Anthony walked me through the startup. He had me unroll the window, adjust my mirrors, and then even showed me all the controls.

“Salute!” I said with a giggle as I made the windshield wipers swish back and forth once.

Anthony sighed. “I think you’re ready.” He shook his head. “This has been the most amazing car sale I’ve ever made.” Then he bit his lip. “You’re really going to drive like that?”

I shrugged and looked at him. “It’s in the rules. She’ll punish me if I’m not following them.”

He winced. “Bad?”

I laughed. “No. I like it. In fact, I imagine I’ll break those ‘car rules’ of hers often enough.” I winked. “It will give her a good reason to punish me.”

He smiled. “Good.” Then he stuck out his hand, obviously wanting to shake. I did.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “What about my Saturn?” I grabbed my coat and got my old keys out.

“Leave it here for today. You can come by tomorrow and pick it up.” Then he grinned. “Or you can give me the key and I’ll bring it to.”

My eyebrow went up. “Yeah? And what will that cost me?” I asked with a sensuous, teasing smile. “Another spanking and a tryst on the hood?”

This time he laughed. “You are utterly amazing, Breanne Erickson. I wish more women were like you.”

I shrugged, my bare breasts dangling like ripe fruit in front of his eyes. My nipples were only an inch or two from the steering wheel. “Then I wouldn’t be as special,” I replied. Then I unclipped one of the clover clamps. He stared, curious, as I threaded it through the steering wheel, looping the chain twice.

“Um...” he observed. “When you turn the wheel...” he pointed out, making pulling gestures and pointing at my breasts.

“Exactly,” I said. I pulled the key to my Saturn off the ring and handed it to him.

He pulled a business card out of his pocket and held it out. “Call me when you’d like me to bring over the car.”

“Do you need my address?”

“It’s on the paperwork,” he assured me. Then he tapped the hood. “Be careful,” he said softly, with admiration. “The world needs people like you.”

I put a hand on his cheek. He stepped back and I rolled up the window. I was encapsulated, warm, stuffed, wet, and very happy. He walked to the far wall, pressed a button, and a large garage door opened. I turned the key and the engine hummed perfectly. Then I put my new jeep into gear and drove.

I took the long way. There were fourteen traffic lights and I edged at each one.

Forty minutes later I parked the new jeep in front of a beautiful condo. I was mad with sexual need, my pussy was brimming with sensation, and the vinyl seat was wet. I pulled the vibrator out and turned it off, then quickly sucked it clean before tossing it into the center console box. Then I unclipped my breasts from the steering wheel. Two, dark, imprints were crushed into the sides of each areola and I groaned as the blood rushed back into the tips of my breasts. I grabbed my coat, but didn’t put it on. Then I jumped from my new jeep, hurried up to the front door, my coat clutched to my front, with my naked, pear plugged ass wiggling behind me. I knocked hard and fast, shivering in the cold, and the door opened a moment later with Kari standing there. Her eyes widened and she grabbed me.

“Get in here before you freeze! Imbecile.”

She wrapped her arms around me, warming me up as I let the coat fall, bearing my breasts and sex to her. For a long moment she held me, but then pulled back enough to see my face. Tears streamed down my cheeks and she frowned. “Hey! Don’t cry!” Kari admonished me. “I’ll have to punish you!” She joked.

My lower lip quivered. “You are…” I tried to say, now crying for real. “The most amazing…” but that was about as far as I could go. Kari hugged me again. I shuddered against her, the scent of her intoxicating.

“Breanne, you are precious to me,” I heard her whisper into my ear. “You are a light in my life. Don’t ever leave.” Then she tipped my chin up and she kissed me passionately. It left me breathless and light headed. Then her hand came up between my legs, finding me wet, open, and wanting.

“Was Anthony not enough?” She asked with a chuckle, her finger slipping into my depths, swirling and teasing, leaving me trembling, and not from the cold. I shook my head, spreading my legs wider as I put my hands back behind my head, pushing my breasts forward.

“He isn’t you,” I said softly. “Thank you Kari, for everything. You let me be me.”

She shook her head. “Letting you be you, let’s me be me.” She pulled her finger out of my slit and stuck it in her mouth, humming. “Now, let’s go get you stretched out, tied up, and begging for release.” She put a soft kiss on my cheek. “And then I’ll whip that cute little pussy of yours.”

I nodded. “Yes please,” I moaned. She pushed me toward the hall and I hurried forward, expectantly, wantonly, happily. Even merrily.

Merry Christmas.

If you enjoyed this erotic tale, then you might consider supporting Breanne’s endeavors, by purchasing her books! Available in e-book format from, Breanne Erickson’s “Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut” series is one of the most highly rated extreme BDSM erotica collections. Check out her amazing work at