Punishment's Folly - Part One

“Well,” said Kari, stepping into the office. “That’s a look I can appreciate.” Her eyes focused on the peasant blouse, or possibly the two wooden clothespins that hung from my barely concealed nipples, the ends peeking out from under the mostly transparent material. The blouse, a pleated monstrosity with a single strand of elastic holding it in place above my breasts, didn’t do much more than keep my bosom from being immediately bare and the slightest gust of wind had a tendency to flip the whole thing up, forcing me to involuntarily flash my breasts to the whole freaking world.

I gave Kari a sour look. I wasn’t happy about the outfit, which was purely Julie’s fault. She’d texted me that morning, directing me to wear it. I’d have gone for something more conservative, despite the assigned punishment I was to endure that morning, but still. The peasant blouse? Why not just strip me naked?

“Are you ready?” Inquired Kari sweetly, coming around to check out my skirt. I’d worn the pleated blue one, the one that was too short to actually cover my ass, and I nodded.

“Yes, Kari. I’m ready,” I assured her. “The RVP is in, with fresh batteries, and as you can see,” I said, gesturing at my breasts. “I already have the clothespins on.”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed. “Yes. I like it when you’re proactive like this. Has it been hard, sitting here with your tender, little nipples crushed like that for so long?”

I swallowed and nodded, not wanting to admit that I’d put them on just a few minutes ago. I’m sexually crazy.

Not stupid.

“Turn on the RVP then,” she told me. “Both functions on low please. Thirty minutes. No cumming.”

I nodded. The remote was already out on my desk and I quickly activated it. Kari stayed to watch the immediate response and it certainly wasn’t disappointing. Inside me the four-inch-long synthetic cock spun up, wriggling around inside my desperate pussy like a chef’s spoon in a small pot. I gasped, eyes widening as the sensation incited a riot of pleasure. Then, just as quickly, the other motor in the Rotating Venus Penis started up, shaking lightly. The base of the RVP was pressed against my petals, and worse - my clitoris.

I’m a girl who is accustomed to sexual stimulation, but I admit that the one toy I consistently have trouble handling is the Rotating Venus Penis. I’ve had four of them, which shouldn’t be a referendum on their durability. I have a tendency to fuck to destruction. The latest incarnation was more solid, and had no wires. I liked that because it left out one additional way for Kari and Julie to humiliate the fuck out of me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have someone look at you when you’ve got a bright pink or purple colored wire going up under your skirt, with a battery pack and control sticking into your waistband?

But as the RVP churned up to it’s lowest settings, my pussy tightened and I found myself gripping the desk, my entire body keyed to react. Thirty minutes is a long time and I realized that under the circumstances, I’d be lucky to last five. I glanced up at Kari, the panic on my face apparent, and she laughed.

“Too much, too soon?” She asked. “That’s what you get for being a naughty little slut,” she said snidely. “Out of curiosity, what did you do to deserve this particular punishment?”

I swallowed, my entire body shifting as the RVP did it’s magic dance between my legs. “You know that Wizard of Oz porn parody I’m writing?” I asked her. She nodded.

“I know of it. I haven’t read any,” she replied.

“Well, no one has,” I said roughly. “I mean had. Master William inquired about it and I’d sort of put it on a back burner. So I sent him the first part.” A surge of sexual energy shot through me and I let out a whimper. Control. It’s all about control. I looked back up at Kari. “He was disappointed that I only sent him part one.”

Kari crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

Another wave of absolute sexual lust rushed through me. And with all due respect, I should be forgiven for the lack of control. I hadn’t cum in six days for goodness’ sake!

“Why what?” I stammered.

Kari snapped her finger in front of my face. “Bre, concentrate. Why didn’t you send him the whole thing?”

I closed my eyes, swaying dangerously in my seat. “I… I… .it wasn’t finished,” I blurted out. Then I moaned. “It was a rough… rough… oh my God.” I realized I was panting. “Draft!”

Kari smiled. “Well then, don’t let me stop you. Get to work. Edit the first part and make sure everyone gets it. Start typing,” she ordered.

I blinked. “I… how can I write like this?” I gasped, my legs starting to tremble.

Kari shrugged. “It’s your normal state isn’t it?” She reached down, slid her right hand under the peasant blouse, and squeezed my breast, shaking the clothespin. That did not help.

“Come see when you cum. Now, write.” She let go of my boob and turned and walked away. Shaking, panting, aching, needing, I grabbed hold of the mouse and opened my documents file. Tons of half-finished assignment write-ups filled the screen, files and files of them. I opened my “fiction folder.” Only five items in there, none of them done, and I started to open “Bondage in Oz”.

The red-haired girl lay on the bed, eyes half closed as her fingers moved in lazy circles. A low moan came from parted lips and her back arched, the pale, white curves of her body writhing in self created ecstasy. Sunlight and a light breeze came in through the open window, pushing on the curtains that weren’t quite closed. She seemed lost in her own little world, legs parted with her toes just barely grazing the corners of the footboard, while her fingers moved from the swollen nub of sweet flesh at the cleft of her slit to the thick, black, cucumber sized phallus that waited patiently for another chance to feel her warm, sweet depths...

And then I exploded.  Three minutes. Well done, Bre.

Leaving the RVP on, I climbed out of my chair, wobbled slightly on the stripper shoes I was wearing and headed back down the hall. I walked into Kari’s office and the golden haired goddess I routinely worship glanced up at me. She didn’t seem surprised.

“That took longer than I expected,” she said with a grin. “Go to my art room and get one of the plastic rulers. Then go to the conference room and remove your RVP. You know how I want you,” she said with a smirk.

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Kari” I replied obediently. I turned tail and moved down the hall to her art room. It was cluttered, or at least appeared to be, but I knew that everything had a place. On the second shelf, in the back corner, was a jar full of rulers. There were wooden ones, plastic ones, short ones, foot and a half long ones, ones with holes, ones with slides, and even wide ones. I spent a moment trying to figure out which would be the least painful. I skipped the one with holes, and the wide one, and the long one, and instead selected a simple, smooth, straight, orange, plastic ruler.

It would do.

The rest of this story is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog, but is available for purchase, contained in Breanne Erickson's book "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 17."  Get it now at Amazon.com!

oung lady!