Thursday, January 19, 2017

Careful Walk



“Kari,” I whined from the stool opposite her desk. My bare knees were shaking and I could hear the creak of the chair. “I’m close…” I said, the words coming out breathless because I was panting, all sorts of pressures trying to overwhelm me. I was trembling like a Los Angeles skyscraper during “the big one.” Kari glanced up at me. Her art desk was littered with drawings and there were various material scraps clipped to the edges. Her dark blue eyes took in my current state of distress and a small smirk crossed her lips.

“How close?” She asked.

My hips surged and my entire sex tightened up again. “Close!” I replied huskily. I wanted to add “damn it!” after my response, but that might have pissed her off, and since I was required to keep the tip of the vibrator against my exposed clit until she said to take it away, the last thing I wanted to do was irritate her. Instead I moved the tapered, shaking point in a tight circle, sending even more waves of exquisite bliss through my lower half.

“Hmmm,” she said, eyes studying the bright pink nub at the top of my slit. “You can stop now.”

I groaned as I pulled the toy away from the open gash between my legs. I knew better than to close my knees and instead I sat there shaking in desire, my skirt up around my waist, my bare and denuded slit glistening in the light. The seat of the canvas stool was wet and stained, the product of a number of similar events that had happened over the previous year. What can I say? This wasn’t exactly my first rodeo.

Personally, I can’t imagine how having a five foot four and a quarter, one hundred and twenty pound, red headed girl, wearing a blue, pleated skirt, sans panties, and a bright yellow, button up blouse, sans bra, sitting across from you with her legs spread, rubbing a vibrator against her clit, could possibly improve your creativity. I think Kari must have been lying to me. Or maybe not. Who knows? Maybe me sitting there, panting and on the very edge of cumming is some sort of muse. She turned her head away from me as I sat there, still exposed, waiting for her next command.

Me? I was on the fucking edge, horny and desperate as hell.

Kari gave me about three minutes to calm down. I only barely managed to get control of my nerves and the shudders, letting them subside over the next few minutes. I still wanted to push the vibrator up into my body with hard, rapid thrusts, but failing that I’d have been more than happy to turn on the vibroballs which were currently stuffed into my stupid little wet cunt. It wasn’t the first time that I’ve been literally at the mercy of my own needs.

The blond goddess seated in front of me picked up a folded piece of white paper and lifted it up. “Here,” she said. “Today’s assignment.”

I blinked. “What?” I said stupidly. The paper wiggled in front of me and I reached up and took it. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I said, somewhat angrily. “You can’t send me out on an assignment like this!”

Kari gave me a cool, appreciative look, her eyes lingering on the wet, pink slit still in prominent view. “Like what?”

I gestured downward. “All hot and bothered!”

Kari let out a laugh. “That is exactly how you need to be for this assignment,” she assured me. She motioned for me to read the paper and I opened it.

It took only seconds and my mouth went dry. I blinked in sudden understanding. It was conspiracy. Master Matt, Julie, and now Kari. I gave her a dark glower and she smiled.

“I suggest you get prepared and go now. I’ll meet you for lunch at twelve-thirty.”

I winced. I didn’t like that idea. Not at all. But it meant I had three hours. “Where?” I said as I finally hopped off of the stool, closing my knees for the first time in half an hour. I could feel the wetness on my thighs. I deliberately didn’t look at the canvas seat. It would have been embarrassing.

Kari shrugged. “There, at the mall. I’ll text you when it’s time.”

***

Twenty minutes later I parked my car in the garage and looked down at the paper. I read through it once again, my heart racing, my nerves shot, and my pussy leaking copious amounts of fluid. Thank God I had vinyl car seats. I opened my coat, unbuttoning the buttons and exposing the bright yellow blouse beneath. A little lower was my skirt, my thighs creamy white, not to mention slick and glistening, beneath the hem.

It took me only a moment to dig the vibroballs remote out of my pocket. The bright purple line stretched from the battery pack and control knob down to my waistband where it then disappeared under the skirt. At least visually. I knew damn well where the wire ended up because I could feel it going into me, lightly grazing my labia before sinking into the dark, wet, warm depths of my pussy. I spun the dial, but only to the point where the double set of motors within me just barely began to rumble and I let out a low, soft moan as my pussy tightened around the toys.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

Next, I unbuttoned my shirt. There were six, white plastic buttons keeping it closed and as my fingers went down a trail of slightly freckled skin appeared. The cleavage between my breasts was deepened by the cut of the shirt, and I resisted the urge to run my fingers over my pierced nipples. It would have set me off and starting this assignment with an orgasm was not the smartest thing to do. Of course, having one when I was about to finish would be similarly idiotic. I had to suck it up and just deal.

Then came the clothespin. There were six of them and I brought the first up to my right nipple, setting the wooden grip just behind the piercing. I figured the gold padlock and the peg could fight for real estate and I set the clothespin so that it was lined up at six o’clock, pointing downward from the center of my breast. The delicious pinching again almost set me off and I had to take several slow and deep breaths just to keep going.

Of course that meant adding a second clothespin to my bosom, latching the next one onto my left nipple in the same orientation as the first. In seconds there was a soft throbbing sensation. I swallowed hard, then pulled the front of the skirt up, exposing the soft petals of my flower. I had four clothespins left. With my left hand I pinched my labia together, closing up my slit and I began placing three of my four remaining clothespins along my pussy, literally sealing it up. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it wasn’t comfortable either. There was a little bit of an ache, a reminder that I should be thinking about my sex, the rumbling vibroballs inside, and the inescapable fact that I was dripping almost constantly, aroused to a state where I was close to cumming.

And that left me one clothespin. I’m pretty sure you know where that one was destined to go. I let it close on my clitoral hood, biting into my clit, which was still quite swollen and definitely peeking out thanks to the half an hour of direct stimulation with Kari’s vibrator. Clamped and pinched, it was everything I could do to keep from pumping my hips, or just saying “fuck it” and masturbating to orgasm right there in the car. Trust me, it would have been fast. Thirty seconds or so.

But I am a submissive, a nympho humiliation pain slut and I wasn’t supposed to cum. Not at all. Instead my instructions were simple. With my coat and shirt open, I was to walk three times around the mall, each time turning up the vibroballs. That meant my second lap would be conducted while the two balls were running along on medium. The last lap? Oh… full power. Wouldn’t that be fun?

On the flip side, twice per lap I was allowed to remove a single clothespin, starting with the ones holding my dripping snatch closed. The last one to go would be the one on my clit. The very idea of it was humiliating. I’d have to watch how I walked, or the front of my coat and shirt would flash my tits to everyone. Even removing the clothespins would be a challenge since I wasn’t allowed to do it in private. And there was the ever present danger of cumming. I didn’t even want to think about the punishment for that!

I climbed out of the car and immediately realized how difficult it was going to be to keep my wardrobe from doing exactly what Matt, Julie, and Kari had wanted. My coat fell open and then my shirt flapped, a cool breeze dancing across my clothespinned nipples. I wasn’t allowed to pull it shut, but a moment later I jammed my hands into my coat pockets and this managed to get the material back together enough to keep me from blinding everyone with my tormented and impressive chest. I turned and faced the sky bridge between the parking garage and the mall itself and took a single, small step. In an instant I knew one very important thing.

I was fucked.

Oh, not literally. Well… okay. Literally. By the vibroballs. They swirled inside me, aggravating my initial condition to a point where orgasm was a foregone conclusion. Walking itself was going to be my downfall, as every step just made the pressure inside me build and build. And I wasn’t exactly starting at zero. Then, to make matters worse, the clothespins on my breasts and clit jiggled while the pegs attached to my labia jabbed my thighs with every step. This made me want to waddle, which created a very unique posture, one that pretty much prevented my coat from closing, or my shirt from hiding my breasts.

“Don’t orgasm, Bre,” They said. Yeah. Right.

Getting into the mall wasn’t an issue, but the Galleria isn’t exactly built like other malls. There are literally anchor stores in the middle, some of which you have to pass through in order to get to other parts. Taking small, careful steps, hugging the wall and struggling to remain calm, expressionless, and soundless, despite the overwhelming sensations going through me, I walked through the place, managing to avoid exposure or orgasm, but garnering a number of very curious looks.

About ten minutes in I stopped in an alcove, an entrance that wasn’t very busy. I turned my back to the concourse and quickly tugged up my skirt. It was quick, dirty, wet, and intense as I pulled the first of the clothespins off my labia and again I was this close to cumming. I closed my eyes, concentrated on mucking out horse stalls, and smoothed the front of my skirt down. The extra clothespin went into a coat pocket. So I started my walk again.

I can’t even begin to tell you how bad it was. I felt torn, half of me wanting to throw it all away and let the pressures affecting me to just have their way with me. The other half wanted to be a good girl, to try as hard as I could to follow Julie’s orders. So I plodded along, careful steps, wanting to cum and wanting to hold off. I made it back to my entry point and I removed another clothespin. It was dark and the wood wet. I tucked it into the same pocket as the first.

But the completion of a full lap meant that I had to turn the vibroballs up as well. They were on low and I pulled the control out of my coat’s inner pocket, only to ramp up the shaking sensation between my legs. My nipples seemed to throb in time to the pulse of my clit and I pocketed the remote and headed down the concourse, intent on another lap.

I noticed almost immediately a disparity between the first and second laps. The first time I walked the second floor I was a hell of a lot more worried about my shirt and coat flapping open. My entire body tingled and the sexual pressure built slowly. The second lap was a stark contrast. All I cared about was not cumming and it wasn’t until I got a number of very surprised looks that I even realized that I had a clothespinned tit hanging out.

I shrugged, jerked and jiggled, trying to get my boob back in and covered and that sure didn’t help the happy dance my hips were doing. I got halfway and removed clothespin number three and that helped. I could at least walk straight, but there was pussy juice halfway down my leg. Slowly though my brain lost traction. All I could think about was not cumming. Trying not to cum. Don’t cum. You can’t cum. Don’t. Stop. No. Don’t give in...

“Excuse me, miss. Did you know that your… um… shirt is open down the front?”

I looked down, my brain finally focusing on something other than my hyperactive clit. I looked up, eyes a little wild, mouth open, each breath a ragged attempt for my body to try and keep the status quo. The young man opposite me was blushing furiously. I swallowed hard and jammed a hand into my pocket. The coat swung closed, hiding my tit but pushing on the clothespin. Pain shot up through my breast and I clenched my teeth at the same time my entire lower half tightened around the vibroballs.

“Uh. Your shirt is still open,” he said.

“Yes. Uh… I know,” I managed to reply. It came out sound like I was sitting on a pincushion. Or that I was under duress.

He gave me a peculiar look. “Are you okay?”

My hips jerked forward and my sex pulsed around the vibroballs. I could feel the clothespin on my clit palpitating. My eyes widened as I realized rather belated that I couldn’t actually take any more. Another step, another pulse, being seen. I was done. This was it. Boom

“Help me,” I whispered, hard and intently. “I’m cumming!” And then I grabbed him and held on as my entire body shook violently. His eyes widened and he helped me walk to the side of the concourse, into a semi-private little window where I continued the process. Fluids streamed down my legs, my nervous system short circuited and my neural synapses started misfiring. Pain and pleasure melded and my endocrine system responded by dumping about six billion gallons of adrenaline into my bloodstream. This just made the shakes and tremors twice as violent as I held onto my new friend. Of course at the same time oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins where flooding my brain pan, reassuring me that yes, despite the fact that I was publicly humiliating myself, while consensually inflicting pain on three, high impact nerve points, all while trying not to actually cum, I was in fact, having a very, very good time.

Oooh boy.

I let out a choked and ragged sob. There was just too much going on. I felt obliterated, like I’d been blown out of an air cannon at a brick wall and plastered over six feet of space. My knees buckled and I clung to the young man, who was practically having a conniption himself. I had no idea how he’d interpreted my wild, lust filled cry, the declaration of sexual impropriety, but other than the fact that one hand was up under my shirt, dangerously close to my bare breast, he seemed to be handling it well. At least, he was giving me all the support I’d currently asked for. Finally I took a deep breath and our eyes met. He was practically vibrating with panic. It was sort of cute.

“Are you okay?” I asked him softly, weakly.

“AM I okay?” He replied in astonishment. “What the hell?”

I laughed, or at least I tried too. My nipples were starting to hurt again. The edge was wearing off. I’d come, and that was it. Shit. I glanced around and bit my lip. “Do you have a moment?” I begged him. “Please?”

He looked at me in utter confusion as I moved his hand upward. His fingers touched my breast, then the clothespin and I moaned softly. He almost bolted.

“Please? Please? I’ll make it worth your while?” I urged. Then, just to make thing easier, I pulled on him. He followed right along, his body agreeing even if his mind wasn’t made up. I tugged him into the nearest store, one I’d been in before, and in moments we had made our way to the back and I pulled him into one of the changing rooms.

At that point I didn’t bother with the coat or the shirt. Both breasts were hanging out, nicely accessorized with the wooden clothespins clinging to my nipples. I pushed him up against the wall and sank to my knees, my hands already going to his belt, sliding over the growing bulge beneath the material.

What was I thinking? I wasn’t. At least not the way you would think. Some part of me knew that I had to put the clothespins back on, and that I’d basically thrown away everything I’d accomplished in the hour and a half I’d been there. But the vibroballs were still going, my nipple and clit still throbbed and now I had cock. I wanted that. I needed that.

“What are you…?” He began as I practically tore him out of his pants. His cock sprang out at me, hard and ready and my answer was to devour his entire length, wrapping my lips around him and sucking voraciously. My head bobbed and he groaned, all thought leaving his head. It was a frantic, crazy three minutes of slurping as he pumped himself down my throat. Then my fingers fumbled for my purse and I managed to get the condom out. I pulled myself off him, just as his face was turning red with need and he watched, more than a little wild-eyed as I popped the condom into my mouth like chewing gum. Then I went back down on him. Two strokes later he was sheathed and I stood up, then sat down on the bench to my back. I lifted my legs, the coat and shirt spreading open even as the skirt rode up. He saw my pussy for the first time, the single clothespin still dangling from my clit.

“Take it off,” I urged him as I grabbed hold of the wire going to the vibroballs. “Fuck me, please?” He watched as I tugged the toys out and the motorized roar filled the little cubicle. I switched them off and then pointed downward, right at the gaping mouth of my hungry little slit.

He didn’t need to be told twice. I gasped, jamming a knuckle into my mouth as he plucked the wooden peg off my sex, tossing it to the floor. Then he got down on his knees, moved forward, and drove himself into the gaping, wet, pink slit between my outstretched thighs.

It wasn’t clean sex, or pretty sex, or even efficient sex. Anytime you are getting screwed somewhere you can’t lay horizontal makes for some rather pornographic positions that don’t translate well to pleasure. But I can tell you one thing - having cock inside me was worth a million uncomfortable positions. He pumped eagerly, clearly on edge from the work of both my mouth and the rather unique and interesting situation I’d placed him in. He thrust himself eagerly into my dripping sex and we gyrated with soft grunts and moans until I felt him stiffen inside me. I wrapped my feet around him, locking my ankles.

“Cum in me,” I groaned, though the condom really defeated the point of that statement. I’m not above using a bit of theatrics to get my lovers in the right mindset. Besides, evidently it was a turn on because a moment later he was spurting, filling the prophylactic in three easy bursts. The aftermath was messy, and he was still in shock. It was kind of cute.

“I can’t believe…” he stammered. His eyes were bright and disbelieving, as if he couldn’t process what we’d just done. I picked up the vibroballs in one hand, even as I fished the clothespins I’d taken off during my mall walk out of my pocket.

“Just wait,” I said darkly, holding up the wet, stained wooden peg. “Until you see what I ask you to do next.”

***

An hour and twenty minutes later I was shown to Kari’s table and I sat down carefully, flushed and delicate. Kari gave me a studious look, as if she were trying to determine just how bad things were.

“I can hear the vibroballs,” she said a moment later. “So I presume they’re on full power.”

I nodded carefully, not quite willing to speak. Kari smiled softly. “That means you had an orgasm, despite being told not to.”

A little surge of anger gave me a bit more control. “After being sabotaged you mean.”

Kari’s grin got a little wider. “So the real question is whether you have more laps to do after we eat.”

I shook my head. “No, that isn’t the real question.”

Kari’s eyebrow went up. “It isn’t? You obviously broke the rules and came, requiring you not only to put the clothespins that you’d already taken off back on. The vibroballs are still on full power, and an accounting of how many laps you’ve still to accomplish will tell me all I wish to know.

I let out a laugh, feeling the power. She just watched me. I giggled. It was a touch hysterical. Finally I gave her a wild look.

“The real question,” I said conspiratorially, “is how many times I’ve put the clothespins back on?”

Kari’s eyes widened in shock and her mouth curled up into a grin. “Why you perfect, wonderful slut!” She reached out and patted my hand. “Good for you!”

I blushed crimson.

“Of course, I still want to know how many laps you still have to do,” Kari added as I lifted the menu and began to peruse the items.

I glanced up at her. “It’s a polite way of finding out what parts of my body are still being tormented with clothespins? And how many strangers I still need to ask to help me remove them? And just how many cocks I might have to suck as a reward?”

Kari settled back. “Precisely. All those questions, answered with a single number.”

I took a deep breath, not caring as my coat and shirt opened, flashing a long strip of white, creamy skin, pink nipple and wooden peg.

“How many laps do I have left?” I gave her a dark, sultry look. Then I let out an evil little laugh. I was going to have to walk carefully indeed.

“Why… all of them.”




Breanne, we’ll be taking Master Matt’s suggestion of another mall walk, but we have to tweak it a bit. First, you will wear your yellow button up the front, short sleeve blouse. I know! It’s not see-thru! That made you excited, didn’t it? But here’s the kicker. Once you park I want you to unbutton the whole thing. That’s right. It should be completely open down the front. In addition, no bra for you. As for the skirt, we’ll scrap Matt’s waiver about it being knee length - you can wear the nice blue pleated one. That will maximize exposure while still remaining legal - most of the time. No panties though. I’ve got a better idea.

You will be stuffed with your vibroballs. Turn them to low the moment you park of course, even before you unbutton your blouse. Then take out the clothespins. You’ll need six of them. In the car put a peg on each nipple (yes, you may set them on from the bottom, but that’s the only thing I’ll give you.) Then put a clothespin on your clit. The last three clothespins should be placed on your labia, closing them up. Uncomfortable? That’s the idea.

Lastly, I know you’ll be wearing a coat. You may not button that up either. So how do you keep from exposing your tits to everyone? Be careful. Be very careful. And what are you supposed to do? Simple. Three laps around the mall. On half of each lap you will find a secluded but public spot (so no hiding in dressing rooms) where you will remove one clothespin, starting with the three on your labia and ending with the one on your clit. At the conclusion of each lap you will turn the vibroballs up one level. No cumming.

Still, I suspect you might cum. If you do, then only one things changes. You have to find a volunteer to remove the clothespins from that point on. Oh, and just in case - though I can’t imagine you’d need it. Additional orgasms mean you have to put any clothespins you’ve already taken off, back on. Only to be removed by a willing strangers you’ve exposed yourself too.

So have fun on your walk! Hope you cum plenty! - Love, Julie



 

5 comments:

  1. I do enjoy team work, makes all the right things harder.
    Matt

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    1. I'm glad you enjoyed it! I did too!

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  2. Hey now! That's not fair to end the story like that! I'm rather curious as to whether you actually managed to finish this assignment. I would have ended up making laps until the mall closed. Or until someone took pity on me and let me quit. But then, one would hate to build a reputation as a quiter, lol!

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    1. Well, in all honesty, the next two hours really didn't go much different than the first hour and a half. So I ended it where I did so you'd have a good taste and want to come back for next week's flavor. Exit question: if Bluebell made a flavor called Breanne, would you eat it? LOL!

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    2. Lol!! Well now, that would depend on what the flavour was reflecting. Would we be using strawberry flavour to reflect the hair? That would be nice, but probably not something I would scramble to get. Perhaps a melding of almond and mint to reflect the colour of your eyes. Actually, that sound like a rather odd mixture of tastes. The cook in me is questioning the edibility of that. If it were perhaps plain and white to match that creamy skin flavoured with the drippings from that rather continuously wet cunt of yours, well that might have my interest a little more than piqued. What can I say, I love the taste of a needy girl.

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