Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Driving Toward Torment - Part Two

This is part two of a multipart story. If you missed part one, please click HERE.

I pulled up to the single story bungalow just a few minutes after the street lights came on and put my jeep into park. It had been a long drive, or maybe it just seemed that way, but I'd managed to find a number of lingering, vibrating stops that had left me both trembling and dripping. Each one had been a breathless, stressful challenge as I’d taken the vibrator out of the cup, pressed it to my clit, and edged myself with one foot on the brake. The stimulation I’d inflicted upon my body threatened to push me over the edge and only the fear of being hauled out and about on the town by Julie, in order for her to demonstrate the largest anal plug I could take in front of a crowd, had kept me from blowing a gasket and cumming all over my Jeep. Now, in front of the house, I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled the white vibrator out from between my wanton little mouth for the last time, at least on this drive. I dumped it into the cup as I swapped out my vibroballs for the phallus.
Putting in the vibroballs was physically easy, but sexually difficult. My body loved the sensation of the two rounded spheres once more sinking into the hot pink pit of ecstasy between my thighs. I picked up my shorts, feeling the weight of the controller in the pocket, but opted not to turn the two little spheres on. I wasn’t sure I’d make it up the walk and cumming on Julie’s toes the second I stepped into the house wasn’t the sort of oppositional statement I wanted to make. So I sat there breathing for a minute, arguing with my libido, which definitely wanted me to take the more daring route. Full speed ahead! And damn the consequences!
The argument left me trembling for just a moment, leaving me time to consider the twenty feet of open walkway between the side of the road and the door. The idea of humiliating myself with a slut’s walk of shame, padding nude from street to welcome mat lost its appeal. I ignored the pulsing throb from my pussy, which seemed to think going naked was brilliant, and instead looked down at my breasts. Both nipples were dark red, the points compressed between the silver jaws of the clover clamps. I reached up, realizing that I could have removed them the moment I parked, and hissed as I released my poor, abused nipples from the steering wheel. I didn’t bother putting them away, figuring any passersby could look in and just wonder about the vibrator in the cup, and the clamps dangling from the steering wheel. It would shock them. They’d have thoughts. Jeeze… I need an @breannenhps bumper sticker to advertise!
I jammed my bare feet back into my shorts and panties. The tee shirt came down, covering my delicate and still hurting areolas and I wriggled, pulling my shorts up as I resisted the fresh waves of pleasure as the vibroballs, motors silent, moved with my hips. When I was dressed, I put my flip-flops back on, climbed out of my jeep, and looked up at the house of Mike the Hardware Guy. The residence itself was well maintained, which figures for a guy who manages a hardware store. It had been freshly painted and some new landscaping had been added, which I had to admit did improve the curb appeal.
Mike's truck wasn't in view, but that meant little, since he usually parked in the back. But right in front of my jeep was Julie's car. I walked past the red coupe and casually touched the hood. Cool. She’d been here all day. But that didn’t surprise me. I walked up at a leisurely pace, rang the bell, and stuck my hands in the pockets of my jean shorts.
It took a minute, but then I heard the snap of the locks. The woman who answered the door was stick thin, practically anorexic, and glared at me with hungry eyes. Her dark, chocolate-colored hair bobbed in curls along her bare shoulders and she placed both hands on her exposed hips, giving me a look both exciting and furious.
“Why the fucking hell are you wearing more clothing than me?” Julie demanded with a mock fury. The corners of her mouth were curling up and I could see that she was pleased. I admit to being taken somewhat aback. Julie was attractively, gloriously, naked. I stared at her. I mean sure, it was great to see her like this. I loved the woman. But naked? Why the hell was she hanging around Mike’s place naked?
“Damn,” I said with sincere appreciation for her courage. “Were you expecting the pizza guy or something?”
Julie grinned in reply. “Do you want to strip here on the doorstep and have to put your clothes back in the jeep? Or shut your mouth and do it inside?”
I flashed her a big smile. “Inside is fine. It’s not like I care how you answer the door.”
Julie stepped back and I crossed the threshold of her home.
Her home.
When someone moves in, or out of, a new place a number of changes happen. When I got my new apartment after Rachel and I moved out of my parents’ place, I wanted some particular art. Mike’s place was a bit different. He was a widower and his wife had died several years before I’d even met him. Mike had converted the master bedroom into a workshop, complete with a door into the garage. The front bedroom became his sleeping space and the plants in the house withered, died, and got tossed. Now there was greenery again. Fresh art. Even a few pieces of new furniture. Some of Julie’s stuff. The two of them were living together and the fusion was both happy and bizarre. I'd heard that Mike had even gone to remove the picture of his deceased spouse, only for Julie to stop him, saying that she would always have a place near his heart.
Some changes are good for the soul.
I shut the door behind me and turned to see Julie tapping her bare foot on the tile. Her toe nails were painted this dark shade of purple that faded into black and there were literally white dots, meant to be stars, splattering them. Her arms were crossed over her depressingly flat chest and she looked cross.
“Why aren't you naked?” She demanded. “It's almost dark, the porch light is off, and it's twenty feet between here and your jeep.” It was an accusation. I looked at her frowning.
“Because kids live in this neighborhood?” I retorted. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my head, baring my breasts. “There. See?” I tossed the shirt aside and pushed down my shorts and panties, letting them fall to my ankles. The controller to the vibroballs clicked as the bottoms hit the tile. “Naked.” I stepped out of my shorts and panties, leaving my flip-flops under them. Then I struck a pose, which might have been just a little over the top.
Little Miss Grumpy Pants didn't seem to like that. She stared at me for a moment, then nodded. “Hands behind your head.”
I grimaced, giving her a dark stare. I knew what was coming. With a sigh of acceptance I braced myself, widening my stance as I wove my fingers together at the nape of my neck. Julie's eyes were on my breasts and she closed the distance between us with just two steps. I watched as both her hands came up and prepared myself for the vicious, double spank. Aimed at my boobs.
Instead, she grabbed me, cupping both breasts, and brought her hot mouth down on my left nipple, sucking the tip and the piercing into her mouth. Pleasure shot through me, especially since two minutes before that nipple had been pinched tightly in a clover clamp.
Oh. Oh wow.
As she suckled me, her left hand tweaked my right nipple, then slid teasingly down my side, tickling that little spot where the leg and torso meet, only to slip between my legs. Her knuckles tightened around my clit and for a breathless second I fought the urge to drag her to the ground and sit on her face. Or beg her to fuck me. Or whip me between the legs. Anything. The veneer of calm I’d displayed was just that - a veneer - and beneath the sweet, redheaded exterior of snarky tease was a dripping fuck slut begging to be abused. I quivered as her fingers dug in, tapping the vibroballs in their little love nest. Tension built, the same tension I'd narrowly avoided on the drive. Shit. Was I about to cum?
“Julie!” I gasped. “Please! Can I cum?” My hips wriggled on either side of her hand.
She lifted her mouth from the slope of my breast, leaving the tip moist and supple. “So you were good,” she replied. “You're still on edge.”
I nodded frantically. Her fingers were curling inside me! She watched my flushed face for a moment longer, tormenting me horribly, when she suddenly said “no,” tore her hand out of my sex, and slapped my right breast hard with her goo covered fingers. Pussy juice flew and I gasped as the sting blossomed across my breast.
She didn't pause to let me recover either. Her right hand swung next, striking my left breast with the same amount of force. Then she slapped upward, hands flying, whacking my poor chest up and down, until I was keening under my breath. I struggled to stay in position as she slapped my bosom back and forth, heat and pain forcing my eyes closed as she beat the orgasm back by the simple expediency of giving me something else to think about. I drew in a ragged breath that was almost a sob when...
The doorbell rang.
Julie's eyes widened and she stopped spanking my bosom. I opened my eyes, looked at the surprise on her face, and through the still stinging heat coming from my tits, opened my mouth to say something stupid.
“Pizza?” I wheezed.
Julie looked at the door with uncertainty, then backed out of the foyer, folding herself so that her prurient parts were hidden behind the corner. She waved her hand. “Go on!” She urged. “Answer it!”
Yay me.
Answering the door nude is always a gamble. Doing it when you don’t actually own the place, right after someone has just spanked your breasts so they’re pink and inflamed is just asking for trouble. So I looked through the peephole Mike the Hardware Guy had installed, just to make sure I didn't traumatize a Girl Scout selling Thin Mints. After a quick peek, I placed my naked self squarely in the frame and opened the door wide.
The man standing on Mike's front stoop was young, handsome, muscular, and dressed more like a ranch hand than the Assistant Manager of a hardware store. His sandy blond hair was cut short and he grinned pleasantly as his eyes took in the pleasant rondure of my hips and chest.
“Ms. Breanne,” he drawled. “Well aren't you a sight to behold.” His eyes flitted down to my chest again and he grinned. “That’s a lovely shade of pink.”
I grinned. “Hi, Alex. Come on in.” I heard a squeak from behind me and the sound of tiny footfalls running away. Alex stepped in, wrapped an arm around me, and drew me to him. My nipples rubbed against the cotton of his button down shirt and I let out a sound that was both purr and whimper, which was something he seemed to like.
“There's something right about being greeted by a naked, sexy girl when you walk through the door,” he said, hugging me tightly.
“Alex,” I said brightly. “What are you doing here?”
“You. Hopefully,” he replied jovially, moving his hands down from the small of my back to grasp both of my buttocks. His fingers squeezed, kneading my ass. I was about to reply to that when Julie rounded the corner, this time dressed in shorts and a red Polo shirt.
“Hi Alex,” she said in a breathless voice. “Isn't this an unexpected surprise?”
Alex blinked and gave her an uncertain look. “Well, Mike called me and asked me to come over and give him a hand with his latest project.” His fingers tightened on my flank. Julie's face went suspiciously blank.
“Oh. Okay,” she said. She cleared her throat and I realized she was just a bit off center. Alex might have sensed it, but he gave her a hungry look and wiggled his eyebrows.
“So where are the leather pants and whip?” He asked. “You almost look wholesome.”
Julie flushed the same color as the shirt. “I… uh…” She floundered and then cleared her throat. “Mike likes me in bright colors,” she said defensively. “Anyway, bring your fuck toy back to the workshop.” She turned tail and disappeared down the hall.
“My fuck toy? Uh… does she mean you?” Alex asked, finally letting me go. I nodded.
“I think so, but she's been a little weird tonight.”
Alex shrugged and gave me a little push. “All of you are a little weird, but I suppose it’s a subjective thing.” He patted my bottom. “Off you go, fuck toy. I’m right behind you.”
I rolled my eyes but padded on bare feet down the hall, past the bathroom, and into Mike's workshop.
Track lighting illuminated wooden and metal benches against each wall. Plastic bins, drawers, and organizers kept the bric-a-brac neat and half a dozen half-finished projects lay in various stages of completion, unfathomable in their unfulfilled purpose. Except Mike wasn’t a model hobbyist. There were no trains or radio controlled cars, dioramas or electronics. The main focus of most of Mike’s projects were sexual in nature, and leaned heavily toward the BDSM side of things. There were different kinds of whips. There was a bench with leather working materials. He was making hand crafted bondage cuffs and collars. My eyes were drawn to the entirely too creepy, rubber manikin standing in the back corner. Her face was a smooth, featureless oval, but the red wig and disturbingly familiar bust left little doubt about whom she was modeled to represent. The truly bizarre and frightening thing was the fifty or so medical needles jammed into the manikin’s chest, evenly spaced around her bust, making her bosom into a pair of pincushions. I’d only dared ask about it once and even Mike had paled, refusing to answer.
Positioned in the open space between the various benches, was a metal frame, and considering the fact I'd never seen it before, I had my suspicions that this was Mike's latest creation. The metal frame looked solid and came up to my waist, welded to a large, metal base. Mostly it consisted of two platforms, both four inches wide and covered in neoprene rubber. The platforms weren't long either, maybe twenty inches in length, but my eyes were drawn to the steel U bolts positioned near the same ends on both forms.
Frankly, I’d seen something like this before, in a video. It was a kneeler. The kind that left a disturbingly large amount of usable space between the victim’s legs. You know, space to swing a whip. Underhand.
“Alright, Bre. Climb on up,” Julie said, gesturing at the metal frame.
“How?” I said in a bewildered tone.
She patted the rubber. “Kneel. One leg here, the other over there.” Her hands grabbed hold of the steel hoops and pulled upward. They swung outward and I saw that they were actually move J shaped. A pin and a spring was wrapped around one side, underneath the platforms.
I gave her a dubious look. “Those are awfully far apart,” I replied, looking at the frame. A two foot spread on a kneeler can be uncomfortable. This? This was going to be worse.
Julie shrugged. “So?”
Alex sighed dramatically. “Here,” he said simply, grabbing me around the waist. I squealed as he picked me up, and I struggled to spread my legs far enough so that my knees found the platforms. I clung to Alex as I was perched precariously above the awfully large open space and I felt the cold touch of metal pressing against the back of each heel.
“Give me a moment to secure these,” Julie said eagerly. Alex nodded and I looked back to see Julie bending down near each of my bare feet. She moved from one side to the other and I tried lifting my foot. No joy. The metal hoops had me trapped. I had an option of breaking an ankle or staying right where I was. My fingers tightened harder around Alex’s shoulder.
Julie finished securing my ankles and then found a pair of Velcro straps that she tightened around my upper calves, just under my knees. “There,” she said in satisfaction. “Alex, will you put this on while I push the beads up her ass?”
My head twisted backward to see her pulling a black leather collar off of one of the nearby workbenches, along with a set of black anal beads. A wire and battery pack trailed from the beads and I shuddered. Julie handed over the thick collar.
“The ring should be at the back,” Julie added. There was a bright steel ring attached to the collar, over an inch in diameter. Alex nodded and twisted, forcing me to let go. For a second I thought I would fall, toppling the frame over, but evidently Mike had constructed it with an insanely low center of gravity. The metal frame creaked, but that was it. Alex stood directly in front of me and held up the collar.
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” He said with a grin.
“And bend over,” Julie added with a smirk.
Cautiously I put my palms down on Alex but it quickly became apparent that there was sufficient counterweight to keep me from tipping over the frame. So as long as I didn't do anything monumentally stupid, I didn't technically need Alex. His hands came up with the collar and he pushed my scarlet colored hair out of the way.
The collar was unusually deep. I'm accustomed to thinner ones, so the sturdy leather wrapped tightly around my throat felt a bit more threatening than usual. It felt like it was squeezing my windpipe. As I adjusted to that sensation I felt something wet touch my bottom. Julie's greased finger slid down the crack of my ass, and then pushed in at just the wrong spot. I gasped and stiffened as she slipped an inch of finger up my colon. Then she wiggled it around with a laugh and drew it out.
I had enough time to take a breath and tighten up once before Julie pressed the first, smallest bead in the exact same spot. With my butt lubricated with oil, there was no way for me to prevent something, just the size of a marble, from going in. I felt her push and the second bead was pulled tight against my ass.
“Ohhh,” I moaned. Alex finished buckling the collar, positioning the steel ring at the back of my neck.
“I love putting things up your ass,” Julie said dramatically, pushing on the second bead. I felt it pop in, the next larger bead pressing on my backside. I groaned, trying to relax, just as Alex moved his hands and began fondling my breasts. I’ll admit it - what Julie was doing didn’t hurt. In fact, combined with Alex’s fingers kneading my chest… holy fuck.
“Here comes the next one princess,” Julie warned. I took as deep a breath as the collar would allow and focused on the unnatural act of allowing something the size of a walnut to get pushed up my ass.
Julie took advantage of my forced relaxation and mashed the next three beads into me before I couldn't take it. I tightened up. Alex’s fingers had found my nipples and were pinching them lightly, twisting them gently back and forth. I let out a sharp gasp, my pussy clenching around the vibroballs, and Julie laughed.
“Want me to leave this one out?” She teased, tapping the ball so I could feel the tremors going up through my butt.
I shook my head. “No!” I blurted. I knew what that would feel like and I was too sensitive there.  It wouldn't quite tickle, at least at first, but I'd get over sensitized fast, with no way to handle the overload. It wouldn't force me to cum. It would just drive me fucking insane. “You can put it in now,” I said hurriedly. I closed my eyes, breathed slow, and willed my bottom to open.
The last bead, a black plastic sphere the size of a fucking golf ball, slid into my hole and disappeared. I let out a ragged breath. I had to count. Inside my ass were eight plastic beads, each filled with a motor. Oh. And I needed to count the vibroballs too. Ten, motor filled spheres. None of them were on yet, but I knew it wouldn't be long before both stuffed holes were trembling in concert. I straightened up, hands still on Alex’s shoulders.
“Alex, I can't quite reach, but we need to attach this bungee cord to that eye hook in the ceiling.” Julie held up a rubber line, complete with plastic end. Alex, at over six feet, didn't even need to step up on something.
“Now clip it to the back of her collar,” ordered Julie.
“What?” I exclaimed in alarm, but it was too late. Alex hooked the other end to the steel ring and the leather around my neck tightened.
“Gluurghk!” I said dramatically and I felt the collar choke me, but as I straightened up, the pressure lessened. I sucked in a sweet breath of air. This was intolerable. I couldn’t slump or really even bend at the waist now. I had about eight or nine inches of allowable movement.
“Posture, Bre. Be mindful of it,” Julie taunted me. “Now to keep her from leaning backward.” She went back to one of the benches and I heard a familiar rasp. Steel chain. She came around to my front and I gulped as she handed the clover clamps to Alex. He pinched one of the clamps open and I sucked in a sharp breath. Unlike the smooth maw of my clover clamps in the jeep, someone had taken a file to these, carving sharp ridges into the metal. They looked like pliers.
“Nice,” commented Alex. “This chain is pretty short though.” He held it up in front of me. It was about ten inches long.
“Put it on her while I start up the anal beads,” Julie replied. Alex nodded and lifted the clamps. I brought my hands forward and grabbed his wrists.
It was purely defensive. Instinctive. My body, stressed sexually and placed precariously, recognized what was about to happen and moved to stop it. I regretted it instantly, my brain recognizing it was wrong of me, even before Alex’s eyes hardened. I let go as he spoke, cupping my breasts for him, but it was too late.
“Julie,” he said with a hardened tone. “She needs her hands restrained first.”
Julie looked over at me, then frowned. “Oh. Okay.” She went back to Mike's workbench and produced a pair of black, leather bondage cuffs. “Hands behind your back, princess. Let the man work.”
Alex looked me in the eyes and he smiled. I nodded, ever so slightly, and let go of my breasts. I swung my arms down and back, letting Julie grab a wrist. In seconds the leather manacle was tight and Julie started putting on the second one.
Alex waited until Julie clipped the cuffs together, leaving me helpless. Then, unable to flinch for fear of choking, and restrained with my hands cuffed at the small of my back, Alex brought the cruel plier-like clamps up.to my delicate nipples, and let them close simultaneously, sending a sharp pulse of discomfort deep into my chest. He ran his finger down to the center of the chain and gave it a decently cruel tug. I yelped as the clamps tightened and my nipples began to throb as my heart labored to push blood into the crushed points.
“Perfect,” Julie cooed. She dangled a piece of string between my clamped, abused tits and Alex. “Now if you'll just tie her titties to the eye hook above you, I’ve got to go get the vibroballs remote.” Alex gave her a nod as she stepped out of the room, clearly going for my dropped shorts in the foyer.
Alex gave me a knowing grin and looked up, still holding the chain to the clamps. But while I whimpered, he just snagged a nearby stool with his boot, stepped up, and threaded the line through the metal fastener embedded in the ceiling.
“What do you think, Bre? Clove or half hitch?” He asked with a chuckle.
I didn't answer. I felt breathless and strained. I watched with increasing concern as he pushed the string through the center link of the chain between my nipples, then tied a clove hitch in the line. Then… well… then he tightened it. I had nowhere to go. Both breasts were pulled up and outward and with the bungee cord at the back of my neck, I was effectively immobilized. My breasts throbbed painfully now and my entire body was tight with strain. I shifted my weight from one knee to the other, but I was literally fixed in place.
Then the vibrations started. Julie came back into the room, holding the small, wireless controller for the vibroballs in my pussy. I gasped, loudly, my hips already moving in tiny, circular motions. For a moment, my two tormentors watched as I wriggled. Then Alex moved behind me and my ass tightened dramatically as all eight of the anal beads began shaking too. I groaned as the gentle but incessant buzz slid up and down my nerves. It wasn't enough to negate the pain at the tips of my breasts, or the stifling sensation of the collar around my neck. But it changed the nature of my torment. I suddenly became aware of the vast, empty space between my knees, the awful exposure, and the wetness of my sex. The vibroballs were quivering inside me, rattling at a different rate from the beads in my bottom. I moaned in understanding.

This wasn’t just about the punishment, or the pain. It was about screwing with me. Mixing up the sensations so I didn’t know left from right, up from down, or agony from ecstasy. And more was coming.

To be continued... 

https://www.amazon.com/No-Right-Shoes-Nympho-Humiliation-ebook/dp/B0797ZKDJL/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
 

1 comment:

  1. Can't wait to hear what comes next.

    H

    ReplyDelete

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