Monday, August 20, 2018

Wet - Part 6 and Part 7

This is a multi-part story and needs to be read in order. Please check out Part 1 and 2, along with Parts 3,4, and 5 before you read this section! 

Part Six

"Please tell me that you're calling to let me know you're done," Julie said as I pulled out of the truck stop. It had been a vigorous half hour that had resulted in not one, but three orgasms. One for me and two for Jason, the trucker I'd repeatedly blown. He hadn't lasted thirty minutes the first time; instead holding off for an impressive five. He'd apologized profusely, and then been surprised when I pushed him back down and told him we'd try again. His second orgasm came twenty-three minutes later and I felt right proud of myself for getting him hard for round two. He'd been a little flabbergasted and when I'd thanked him and kissed him goodbye, he'd asked for my number and promised to call anytime he was passing through town.

Of course, after I'd climbed down from his rig, Crystal Dildo in hand, my blouse and skirt once more covering my prurient bits, I knew I'd have to pay the piper. I climbed into my jeep, headed out, and dialed Julie.

"Well, not quite," I admitted. "But I'm making progress."

Julie snorted. "Progress. Which dildo are you on?"

I thought through the list. "I'm on my Husky. And I can do it right now," I amended.

"Yeah? Where are you?"

"Heading north on Pederson Road," I told her, glancing around. Suburbia’s crawl hadn’t quite made it out this far and the land north and west of Katy was still mostly farm and ranch land. "I figured I'd find a quiet backroad someplace, stand in front of the Jeep and strip naked." It came out in a sort of snarky tone.

There was a shocked silence. "You're in Katy?" Julie asked in disbelief.

I bit my lip. "Well, sort of. A little west of it. I just sort of migrated out this way."

"Hold on," she told me. I waited as I heard her muffled voice talking to someone. Probably Mike. He normally worked the morning shift on Saturdays, so it wasn't that surprising that he'd be off by now.  

"Okay. So when you get to the Screw, call me. Mike wants to see it in action."

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?"

Julie laughed. "Yeah. When I told him about it he got all excited. You know how he is about hardware."

"It's a dildo," I said sourly.

"Whatever," Julie said dismissively. "Oh. Wait. Why DID you call me?"

I gulped. "Well, I sort of had an accident..."

"Oh my God! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Julie demanded.

My eyebrow went up. "What? No! Not that kind of accident!" I protested. "I had an orgasm."

Julie went silent.

"Um... Julie?"

Another quarter mile went by. "Mistress?"

"Another orgasm," she said, clearly in disbelief. "How the fuck do you have an orgasm when you are only supposed to put the dildo in once?"

"Erm... let someone else put it in for you?" I guessed. “And they don’t listen to the ‘just fuck me once please’ part?”

She sighed heavily. "Breanne, that sort of defeats the point, doesn't it?"

I shrugged. "Possibly,” I admitted. “But I can tell you that when my trucker put in the crystal dildo, it hurt. Not a whole lot, but sort of like getting kicked in the crotch."

She considered that. "Well, I suppose that's okay. My kick? Or Mike's?"

I frowned. "Mike's. He doesn't kick me as hard as you do. And besides, you haven't done it in a long time."

This time I could sense her shrug. "Neither of us are into that sort of thing. You want your pussy kicked, go see Mistress Lucille."

I grimaced. "I'll pass. Thank you."

"Okay, so as I said, do the next few dildos, but when you get to the big screw, Mike wants to watch. It might be around supper time by then. We'll take you out to eat."

I blanched at the thought. Let’s parade the barely dressed nympho humiliation pain slut through a busy, sit-down restaurant on a Saturday evening. "Uh... okay."  

"Were you kidding about stripping in front of the jeep?"

"Yes." Duh.

"Well, I think that would actually serve as an acceptable punishment for cumming," she told me. "Find a good place, get in front of your jeep, take off the peasant blouse and the skirt, then do the Husky dildo."

My lips pressed tightly together. "You want me to risk full nudity, on a back road?"

"Yep!" She said brightly. "Have fun, princess!" Then she hung up.

I tossed the phone down on the seat next to me and drove in silence. Between my legs I felt an ache. It wasn't need, or want, but something resulting from the repeated fucking I'd gotten all day. I might be a nympho humiliation pain slut, and naturally wet, but that didn't necessarily translate into "being able to accept a series of unnaturally hard, thick, and long dildos in single thrusts to the cunt." Sex is a process and sometimes "brace yourself, Bridget" is insufficient foreplay. In fact, most of the time it isn’t. Which is the whole purpose of Rule #1. If I’m stuffed with something constantly arousing me, agitating me, and keeping me wet, then getting thrown down, emptied, and having something long, hard, and thick shoved into you is fine.

Of course, the whole purpose of this assignment, this experiment, was determine if I really was the slut I claimed to be. Was I really, truly ready to be on the receiving end of a sudden, forceful, broad sexual experience? Could I just spread my legs, regardless of the time and urgency, and take it? That was the point, wasn't it? To make sure I could? And so far I'd been pretty successful. Granted, none of the dildos were beyond the scope of normality. Something that large was admittedly out of the norm, but it wasn't like I never encountered them. But we were about to venture out of the bell curve, at least in cock length. Next up was a nine inch version.

Was I truly ready? Without any real preparation?

I took a few turns and found myself practically lost. I knew if I headed south, I'd eventually find my way back to civilization, but out here, the only thing that would see me would be a few cows. When I stopped seeing cars, I pulled down a gravel drive, crossed a cattle guard, and stopped the jeep. For a second, I hesitated. This wasn't technically a road. And worse, it was probably private property, which meant that I wasn't in public. But I decided I could live with that and if Julie or Kari wanted to punish me at a later date for it, what could they really do to me that I wouldn't like in the end? I stopped the jeep, grabbed my Husky dildo, and climbed out.

My Husky dildo has been with me for years. Nine inches long, with firm rubber, cast in the shape of a man's penis, the Husky for me was the first real looking synthetic cock I ever had. Most of the time, I wore it with a pair of panties, under a skirt, because it wouldn't stay in by itself, sliding from my wet slit with a thump if I didn't keep a hand on it. One of my favorite games had been laundry day. Fridays. I'd put it in, sitting at my desk, writing or getting online and playing sex games, only to hear the alarm on the washer, indicating a need for me to go downstairs, past my father sitting in the living room, and move wet stuff to the dryer. I'd stand and the Husky would slide partially out, making walking a challenge until I made it back to my bower, only to sit fast and hard, impaling myself once again. Up and down...

I was constantly wet back then. Hmmm... not much has changed, has it?

At the front of the jeep I set the Husky dildo on the hood, the small suction cup on the base keeping it disturbingly upright. Then I peeled off the peasant blouse, baring my breasts to the bright, south Texas sun. The scents and sounds of my childhood came back to me and I did the skirt next, dropping it down around my ankles and stepping out of it, folding it neatly and setting it next to the shirt. I revelled in my nakedness. I grabbed the dildo, and then, suddenly feeling daring, I walked, still unclothed, back up the dirt drive, all the way to the paved road. Almost an eighth of a mile. If someone had come around there would be nothing I could do. There was nowhere to hide. I moved to the side of the gate, sort of behind the scrub brush and listened. Nothing but cicadas. Then I squared my shoulders, stuck out my breasts, and marched outward, crossing the last fifteen feet until I stood at the side of the road. There were no cars in either direction, so I walked out onto the baked asphalt. I spread my legs, faced south, brought the Husky dildo up between my legs, and without hesitation, drove it up between my legs.

Like the other times, there was sufficient lubrication that the larger dildo went in. But it wasn't easy. It was too tight, and a little dry as my insides snagged on the rubber. I winced and kept pushing through, all the way until the full, insertable length was in my pussy, the tightness yielding to the pain and pleasure of it. I stood there, a hand between my legs, counting to thirty as I remained in plain view. Then, when I hit the mark, I pulled the dildo out, stuck it in my mouth, and sucked it clean.

Still standing on the road. I took my time. I licked the dildo. I sucked. I waved it around. I let the damn thing dry. All while suffering the urge to stick it right back in my pussy and do it all again.

I was actually disappointed when I started trudging back to the jeep. No cars to zip past my rapidly fleeing body, no one to stare at the naked, redheaded girl running away, her ass jiggling, big rubber cock in her hand. I trudged back to my jeep. At the car, I moved to the front, planning on getting dressed, but... Ah... the hell with it. I grabbed my peasant blouse and the skirt, opened the door and climbed in nude, tossing the dildo into the bag. Kari wants me naked while driving? Fine. Whatever.

I did a three point turn and headed back to the road and almost wrecked as I tried to pull out onto the asphalt. A pickup truck roared past, horn blaring, and I think both of us yelled a few choice swear words. I sort of doubt the other driver saw me though. My pussy, wet now that I'd jammed something into it, clenched and I turned south, heading back toward Katy. With thirty more minutes to kill, I turned the AC to high and drove.

Then my tummy rumbled.

It was almost four in the afternoon and my early lunch had been more like ten-thirty, then eleven. I needed a snack. I'm a girl who doesn't handle hunger very well, so when I realized I needed food, I immediately thought of one of my favorite restaurants. I turned the front of my jeep in that direction and pressed down on the accelerator. Except, I realized belatedly, that walking in buck naked wasn't going to work. After I pulled into the parking lot, I squirmed around in my seat, shoving my feet into the skirt and drawing it back up over my ass. Then I pulled the peasant blouse down over my head, making sure that the valance like material covered up both of my tits and the gold hardware dangling from the tips. I grabbed the bag of dildos, but really only to use as a purse, since my phone and wallet were inside. Then I climbed out of my jeep, crossed the hot concrete, and went to assuage my gullet, if not my libido.

The place was practically empty, which was exactly what I wanted. Granted, the poor seventeen-year-old kid at the counter practically fainted as I came up, his eyes glued to my barely concealed breasts, but he managed to collect himself sufficiently to take my order. I paid for my drink and food and while waiting, checked out the dining area. Empty. Not a single customer. Perfect. I took my cup and served myself, then picked up my food, giving the teenager a winsome smile. Crimeny, he was staring so hard!

I picked a spot, in a booth, where I could keep an eye on the door. Then I tucked in. Yum. Horseradish and roast beef... I love it. Of course, it would cost me an hour at the gym, but I could live with it. Besides, my breakfast had been healthy. Why not splurge a little? So as I ate, I considered my situation.

The Husky dildo hadn't exactly gone in as easily as I would have liked and I had to figure out why. Part of arousal is having the right mentality, and trying to jam nine inches of dry rubber into a rather tight space requires that arousal. The only thing I could articulate to explain my difficulties was that thirty minutes, the heat of the day, the trudge out to the roadway - all of it constituted against my natural arousal. Sure, I was still a bit wet, but not enough to handle a full nine inches of synthetic cock.

So what did that say about me? And what about the next dildo? Would I have problems with it too?

The "next dildo" in my bag of tricks was an oversized Sha Gua stick. Made of polished quartz, they normally come in a small size, about five inches long and are meant for acupressure massage. I'd been given one a year or so before by Georgia, one of the other submissives in the Society of the Golden Rose, as a Christmas present. She’s Asian - Thai I think, and is a yoga instructor. She’s into all that stuff. Feng Shui, aromatherapy, and even acupuncture. I stay away from that. I’m not good with needles.

As far as the oversized Sha Gua stick though, I had no idea where she got it, but it weighed a good four pounds and spanned ten inches from tip to base. I'd enjoyed it the few times I'd used it, but I have to be honest, I'd either already been insanely aroused, dripping and moaning, ready to get fucked by just about anything, or had applied sufficient lubrication to the stone dildo for it to slide in relatively easily.

Not this time.

No, this time I'd be static, unaroused for thirty minutes, only to take a dry, polished piece of rock, and attempt to jam it up between my legs. I frowned, worried at how it would feel, whether it would go in. And then, underneath all that, what did it say about me? My boast at always being wet? Was Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Rule Number One important, not just for the psychological value of tormenting non-stop, but actually to keep me wet and ready for cock at the drop of a hat?

As I put my sandwich down to take a sip of my soda, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. The young man from the counter had entered the dining area, wiping down already clean tables. He was moving in a manner that made it clear he was trying to keep an eye on me. Okay. Sure. I could understand that. Half naked, redhead slut, sitting at the table. He was probably trying to get in a position where he could get a glimpse up my skirt. Or maybe even my top. Either was doable. I checked my phone. So close. My thirty minutes were just about over and I could...

Oh. Wait a moment. It IS a mental game.

I reached over to my bag and rummaged through it, finding the sha gua stick with ease. It was the only ten inch long, stone shaft in the sack. I pulled it out and set it on the table next to my food. It clicked loudly on the veneered surface and I deliberately positioned my drink and sandwich remains to either side, to keep it from rolling. Of course this new addition attracted the attention of the poor guy cleaning the dining area. And as he looked over at me, I gave him what he really wanted in the first place.

I spread my legs.

I didn't do it obnoxiously. I made it look natural. Relaxed. Sort of accidental. His eyes widened slightly, but I could tell he still hadn't gotten a good look. Nope. At best he might have suspected, with good cause, that I was pantyless, but there were too many shadows. My knees were still too close together. And as he maneuvered for a better look, I pretended to look at my phone, rotated my hips, and spread my legs wider. I heard him gasp and I felt a rush as his eyes seemed to caress my pussy. I felt a shudder go through me, and then came the expected reaction. Whatever moisture level I'd had before exposing myself doubled. I felt the gush of sweet wetness. That made it perfect for what I was about to do next. I put a hand on the sha gua stick, dragged it down off the table, and spread my legs just a bit wider.

My audience froze, totally disbelieving that he was about to witness what he thought he was about to witness. I brought the quartz dildo down between my legs, rubbed the tip through my petals, and when I was at the right angle, I pushed. Hot and slippery, my pussy handled the intrusion with aplomb, parting and accepting the full length with ease. I quivered, gasping softly as I took all ten inches, until the base was nothing but a pink colored round circle, held in with my finger tips. My hips struggled as my pussy quivered around the hard, rock phallus and I counted methodically. The guy washing the table stared, mouth half open, a growing bulge there at the front of his trousers. I made it to thirty, and despite the urge to fuck myself, or ask the kid watching to do me, I let my pussy squeeze tight and push the crystal dildo out into my waiting hand.

Quickly, I drew it out, closed my legs, and brought it to my lips, sucking and licking it as fast as I could. It disappeared into my bag a moment later and as the show ended, the poor kid watching shook himself, as if trying to collect his thoughts. The look of utter amazement on his face made it clear that I had just left him with a memory that he would recount for the rest of his life, probably in single gender company and locker rooms, but fine by me. I took another swig of my soda and collected my trash.

He puttered around, obviously trying to get another glimpse and I couldn't just let him off like that. So after I stood up, smoothing down my skirt, I walked past him, holding my tray, my bag over one shoulder, and my cup in the other hand. I gave him a wink, and with deliberate movement, managed to sweep my arm up along my front. The peasant blouse gave way as I knew it would and my left breast emerged from under my wrist, the pink tip bursting into view, the gold piercing glittering.

"Holy shit!" He spluttered. But then my arm came down, and with it, the blouse. I dumped the remnants of my meal in the trash and spun, heading toward the door. No one had seen me but the kid and he stood there, flabbergasted, pleased, and heady.

Me? Well, I wasn't hungry anymore. At least not for food. For cock? That was another matter.

Part Seven

I still had one more dildo to do before I met with Julie and Mike, so I spent the next thirty minutes touring some of the subdivisions south of town. Invariably, I found myself back on the property that my dad, and grandfather, had owned for close to seventy years. At least until they sold it at a profit to a real estate developer. Everything had changed. The fields that I'd ridden through, plowed, and harvested were gone. No more soybeans or corn. No cotton. We'd sold the cows before the end, but I never did catch that goddamned emu and I wondered if it was still out there, running around in suburban backyards. The house where both my daughter and I had grown up was gone, bulldozed and destroyed. Now there were just houses. Lots and lots of houses.

Nice houses though. Very, very nice houses. I couldn't afford one, at least not yet. These all cost a couple hundred grand, or more, and besides, with just me and my daughter, it wasn't like we required much space. Sure, maybe at some point it would make sense to buy a condo like Kari, but not now. Besides, what would happen to me when my daughter moved out? Eventually she would go to college, make a place for herself in the world. Would I be living alone at that point? Why buy a house? I could think of at least twenty people who would willingly take me in. Provided they had room, rope, and a wooden horse to make me ride occasionally. Especially if I could bring some money to the table to keep myself fed and clothed.

Scratch that. Most of the people who would be willing to take me in would want me UNclothed. Permanently. And probably bound open and sexually tormented constantly too.

It's nice to be wanted.

At the back of the housing development on my former property, there were still a few homes being built and due to both the weekend and the lateness of the day, one skeletal structure stood by its lonesome, empty and waiting. There was no door, not even any walls, and I parked my jeep far enough away that no one would get immediately suspicious. I grabbed my bag, climbed out of my jeep, and headed up the road, picking my way through heavy, dirt ruts where the driveway would eventually go, just to get up to the open garage.

The heat was oppressive, but I didn't mind it. I'd worked out in this heat for years. Besides, the roof was complete. Mostly. Okay. It didn't have shingles, but that wasn't a big issue for me. It kept the sun off me. So I started exploring, wandering my way through the four bedroom home, guessing at how it would look eventually. I ended up at the back of the house, to where I suspected the master bedroom would be located. It was huge, almost as big as my entire apartment. My active and fertile imagination pictured the bed, a king almost assuredly, where all sorts of fun could happen.

My phone chirped and I knew it was time. I set my bag down and looked around. No one was there. This was perfect. But I knew I needed something else. So instead of just lifting my skirt, I stripped naked.

There is an energy involved to being nude. It might be tough to understand unless you've done it, but I can assure you that it is there. Try it sometime. You don't even have to be out in public. Just taking off your clothes in a place that might be considered inappropriate will work. Some field. Your garage. Anywhere but your bedroom and bathroom. You can feel it. There is a sense of tension, of energy. It coalesces around you. I wanted that. I felt my skin tingle and when I pulled out the tenth dildo of the day, my twelve-inch Core Driller, I hoped that it would be enough.

My Core Driller dildo looks alot like a rocket ship. Paint it white and slap a NASA sticker on it and you'd have no problem selling it in a toy store. Formed of black rubber, it was, for many years, the largest and most impressive of the dildos that I own. To this day, it is the largest that I can have inside me comfortably, especially when clothed. Packed to the brim, held in with tight shorts or bluejeans, it fills me completely, leaving me in a state of constant want as my body strains to move it, in or out. It's three inches thick too, at least in circumference, and my pussy wraps around it tightly. The sides are slick and when wet, the entire thing moves easily. Still, you don't just thrust it in. It's massive. It's over a foot long. And like a rocket ship, it has stages. Three of them in fact. You slide it in carefully, easily, working it deeper and deeper until there's no more left visible. It won't stay in either, not without help. You need to hold it with a hand or make sure you pull your bottoms up fast.

It's one of my favorites.

The sha gua stick and Husky dildo were tests. They were signals. Now, with the largest, but still reasonable phallus I owned, it was time to put my doubts to rest. I was alone, naked, ready to take it, but I wasn't feeling even half as wet as I did when I flashed that poor kid at the restaurant. I spread my skirt out on the floor, right next to a stud, and sat down. I spread my legs wide, the dirty concrete before me, and I brought the Core Driller up. I positioned it perfectly, the tapered point aimed at my pussy, engines primed, ready for liftoff. I couldn't help it. In a soft voice I counted down, to myself.

"10, 9, 8, 7..."

I felt inadequate to the requirements. Would it hurt going in? Something this big, pushed up inside me without lubrication? I'd already bruised myself twice, struggling to get smaller and narrower toys up into my body. Each had been a narrow victory, but was this just too much for me? Was my natural state insufficient? Would this mean that NHPS Rule #1 was actually a necessity?

"6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."  Liftoff.

I pulled the toy toward me and the tip struck the open gash between my legs. My aim was off by a little, but I adjusted trajectory almost immediately and the first three inches slid in with absolutely no discomfort. I continued to pull, thrusting the entire first stage of the rocket dildo into my well, moving with appreciable speed. But as my pussy spread to accept the increasing circumference of the second stage I felt the drag of resistance. The dildo slowed, my body resisting the pillar of rubber, the force of my hand. Still, I didn't let up, even as my sex fluttered around the intruding phallus. Then came the largest, thickest portion. I felt the friction, the pull, and the dildo stopped. Or more accurately, my hand did, as a sharp, shooting pain came up from between my legs. Ouch!

Well. Fuck.

I hesitated, trying to decide what to do at this point. Should I press on, working the Core Driller in, wiggling it back and forth? I knew I was already ripening, my body responding to the penetration, my nudity, and the risk of being discovered. In seconds I'd be able to take the whole thing, fast and hard. I was already clenching my pussy around it, wanting more. I could feel the urge to draw it back out, only to try another full thrust, suspecting this time, it would slide in easily. Or should I draw it out, accepting defeat and making Julie aware that I'd failed? What would serve her purpose better? Me wet and ready? Or dry, aching, and wanton?

I drew the Core Driller out with a frustrated moan and sat there, back against a two by four, legs spread obscenely wide, a dildo in my hand. What the fuck had just happened? Had I really failed? Was I really not wet enough to take my Core Driller?

Part of me rationalized it. Okay. Sure. But I took the others, didn't I? Four inches all the way up to ten? So what if I couldn't take the last two inches? How many cocks would I encounter that measured up to that anyway? And even then, I was wet already. If I had pumped it, things would have been a soupy morass in seconds. In fact, they already were. If I were to shove it in now, it would go in fully. And oh my God, could I have cum. Oh yes. Right there, all over that brand new, concrete foundation.

I stuck the dildo in my mouth, but I could only get three or four inches in. I sucked it, but there just wasn't that much. I could get a sense of my flavor,  but the usual mess? Not a chance. I pulled it out, feeling just a bit dejected. I looked down. My pussy was leaking and had left a pretty impressive wet spot on my skirt.

Great. Just great. Too little too late.

With the dildo in one hand, I stood up, then grabbed my skirt. I got dressed again, then threaded my way through the skeletal structure, stepping out through the front door and making my way to the road. It was easy enough I suppose. I tossed my bag back into the jeep and climbed in. How the hell was I going to explain this to Julie? Or Kari for that matter? I wasn't even sure I knew what it meant.

But I knew where I needed to go.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled up in front of a 1970's bungalow. It was a two bedroom home, single story, sitting pretty close to the road. Parked in front stood a massive Toyota Tundra pickup truck, while next to it was a red Fiat. The former belonged to Mike the Hardware Guy, while the latter, to my mistress - Julie. Over the last year and a half their relationship had changed from a healthy respect for the other's sexual torment of me, to an admiration for each other, to fondness, to actual love. I thought it was ideal, since I loved them both and the idea of them completing each other, of being happy, was warming. Even better, when I was with them I hardly felt like a third wheel. On the contrary, I was a focal point for their matching interests. Both of them wanted to sexually torture me and fuck me hard. Repeatedly.

Of course, this was creating some problems for Julie. While the bylaws of the Society of the Golden Rose does not expressly forbid hetreosexual relationships, it is frowned upon. Having me as a submissive, not to mention being bi, made things easier for the lesbian mistresses in the society to accept. But the real issue is that Julie was clearly submissive to Mike. At home she went nude at his request. She had started following Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Rule #1. At least some of the time. When out in public on Mike’s arm she wore outfits more suited for a sex kitten than a powerful, confidant mistress who wore stilettos and carried a whip. And that was why she was having difficulties. I wondered how much longer she’d be involved with the Society.

I parked my jeep on the side of the road and got my stuff. Then I headed up to the door. I stood there for only a moment before the door opened and Julie, totally in the buff, her thin, bony, naked body sporting a cute ankle chain and a pair of tweezer clamps on her nipples, stood there with a grin. She looked delicious, her dark chocolate colored hair framing her adorable face. I wanted to grab her and lick her everywhere.

Or one particular spot in particular. Her pussy was pink. Delicately pink and I suspected she had spent a good portion of the day on her back, legs spread open, pleasing Mike.

"Come in, princess," she said with a smirk. "And take off your clothes. I want to say hello."

I stepped into the foyer and she shut the door behind me. I kicked off my flipflops to start off with, but then let my thumbs push my skirt to the floor. Julie stared hungrily at me as my loins were bared, and then I gave into her desires, lifting the peasant blouse up and off my body. I tossed it aside negligently. No more words were needed, at least not yet. I lifted my arms and laced my fingers behind my neck, knowing what was coming and frankly, wanting it. I felt like I needed punishment for my failure to take the full length of the Core Driller dildo.

"Hello, princess," she said softly, raising her hand.

Julie slapped me, her fingers swing fast and hard, aimed not at my face, but at my bosom. The resulting impact rocked me to the side and she modified her swing to catch my other side, spanking my breasts with sharp, short swings. I gasped, eyes widening as she switched from one tit to the other, slapping and swatting, leaving me breathless as the stinging sensation overwhelmed me. For over a minute she abused my top half, leaving my skin flushed a delicate pink, my nipples hard and standing up, my chest heaving as the stinging heat seemed to radiate outward from my breasts. Then, when she thought I was properly greeted, she brought her face down on my chest, her mouth opening to suck hard on my nipple. Her arms came around me, holding me tight, fingers kneading my buttocks. I shuddered against her, eyes closed now, trembling with desire as she took me. I wanted her to use me. I wanted her tongue against my clit. Hell, I wanted MY tongue on HER clit!

She came up for air and our eyes met. She smiled warmly, but the corners of her mouth quickly turned to mischievous delight. "So," she said, taking my hand and pulling me into the living room. "How goes the assignment?" She pulled me over to the sofa and sat me down, spreading my legs as she knelt between my knees. I let her manuever me as she examined my slit, just visually, until she actually reached out and placed the tip of her finger on my clitoris.

I took a deep breath. "I fucked up."

Julie looked up from my gash and smiled. "Fucked up. As in fucked up the assignment?" I grimaced and shook my head.

"No. As in I failed the assignment," I said softly. I felt as if I should cry or something. Julie looked at me curiously.

"How do you fail an assignment where you jam a dildo up into your twat twelve times?" She asked. Her finger left my clit and she put both her hands on my knees.

I took another deep breath. "Well, I haven’t done all twelve. There are technically two more,” I said sourly. “But the truth is - I wasn't wet enough. I did okay for most of them, right up to the Core Driller. But then when I tried to put that one in, I wasn't wet enough. I could only get two-thirds of it in. Then it hurt and I had to pull it out." I looked at her, expecting to see disappointment, or more likely satisfaction, in her eyes. “I mean, sure, I I was soaked a minute later, but not instantly.” It came out as a sort of confession. I felt like maybe I’d failed to live up to some sort of standard. But instead, I saw a softening around her stark edges. Her smile became warm, almost apologetic and she rose up, moving her hand from my knee to my breast, then to my cheek.

"Princess," she said softly, then shook her head. "Breanne. It means you're human."

I blinked. Julie laughed kindly and brought her hands back down to my legs, pushing them even wider apart. She looked at my slit. "You're the one who seems to think you're some sort of fucking machine. The rest of us know you're a living, breathing person and that you have limits. Important ones. Regardless of what you think. The fact that you couldn't take twelve inches of rubber without being aroused, without any foreplay, just proves the fact that you're normal. You have unreasonable expectations of yourself." And then, just to emphasize her point, she bent down, her tongue extended. She lapped at my clit with tiny licks, sending an avalanche of sensation up through my body. I stiffened, eyes widening as my toes curled and a flurry of excitement rushed through me. Oh my God.

Her hands began rubbing my inner thighs, going from my labia to the backs of my knees, then up again. I quivered in delight and my pussy gushed with wetness. In seconds. She continued to lick and suck on me, but she didn't penetrate my gash, only teasing me. For almost five minutes she did this and when I whined with need, making it clear I needed her, she stood up, surprising me.

"Stay there," she said firmly.

I stayed there, legs spread wide, my pussy dripping on Mike the Hardware Guy's couch. She padded away, down the hall. I  heard a knock and voices. When she came back, Mike was with her.

Mike was a large man, especially across the shoulders. He could have stood to lose a few pounds, but the girth around his middle didn't look much like fat, especially since he was so broad. He was tall and Julie only came up to his chin. The strange thing was seeing them standing together. Imagining him on top of my mistress, conjured images of beer cans getting crushed by cars. She peeled off from him as he came into the living room, dipping into the foyer long enough to grab my bag. She caught up to Mike as he approached me, his eyes fucking me just as surely as Julie's tongue had. You could see a hunger in his eyes and for a moment, I wondered if he would just take me, thrusting his already swelling cock into my depths. Instead, he held out his hand.

"Is she ready?" He asked, but not of me. Julie nodded eagerly.

"Absolutely," she replied, reaching into my bag. Mike nodded as she pulled out the eleventh dildo, a massive, black rubber monstrosity that I could only call "the screw." It was shaped like that as well, a tapered wood screw, an entire inch longer in length than the Core Driller dildo, capped with a massive black top sporting a Phillips Head inset that no screwdriver on the planet could hope to fill. Mike gripped it in his rough paw and smiled. He came closer and then knelt down in front of me. Sudden hope flashed through my heart. I was going to take this dildo, and maybe, just maybe, I was going to get fucked with it too. Hard. I tilted my hips and licked my lips, wanting Mike to know that I was ready. I was beyond ready. Julie moved around behind the couch and put her hands on my breasts, kneading and caressing the tips. Her fingers flicked and danced, sending shivers up through my body as Mike aimed the point at my sopping wet well. He pressed it, gently at first, but then with more force, and it entered me, pushing apart my folds, spreading me open. The first thread penetrated me. Then as the shaft widened, Mike got to the crest. I groaned, hips pumping, and he began twisting the dildo as he pushed it deeper into me. Pure pleasure shot through my body, up from my cunt, out to my fingers, then back to the points of each breast. Julie teased me just as much as Mike and together they drove me even closer to the edge of orgasm. Mike pushed until the entire length of the screw was buried in my slit. And then, instead of unscrewing it, he pulled it almost completely out of me.

I groaned as my eyes practically rolled back up into my head. I can't even begin to tell you how amazing that felt. I quivered in delight. And it got better. He pushed it back in again, only having to twist it a half-turn this time. My pussy, so dry for the Core Driller, was soaking wet, so accepting and needy that the next time Mike pulled and pushed, there was no twist, just the exciting sensation of the ridged phallus going through my lower half. He held the drive in his meaty palm, thrusting and jacking the full length into me until I slid my ass forward, giving him an even greater penetration depth. I took the screw up until it struck my cervix and the day's frustrations flew out of me as they took me.

"Oh my God! I'm going to cum!" I said, my fingers clutching at the sofa cushions, my nipples caught between thumb and forefinger of Julie's hands. Mike picked up the pace and the combination launched me violently into orgasm, my entire body seeming to catch on fire, explode, and hurtle out into the abyss. I shuddered and pitched. Mike seemed to understand what I was feeling and both slowed and lightened his thrusts. I quivered as Julie let go of my breasts and instead rubbed my arms and shoulders. I felt an urge to close my legs, but as usual, I suppressed that instinct, keeping myself open for of the people I loved most.

Mike let go of the Screw, leaving it deeply embedded in my cunt, as he stood back up. I half expected him to strip off his jeans, whip out his cock, and replace the Screw with the real thing. But he didn't. Instead he smiled at Julie, nodded, and walked off toward the kitchen. Julie came around, catching my knee just as I started to close up.

"Don't," she ordered softly. "Stay open."

I let out a ragged breath, but I kept my legs open. She put a hand on the dildo, holding it in place. The pressure was good, and my pussy kept squeezing the dildo. Mike reappeared, holding a thick, rough, skein of rope. He looked down at me as he loosened it.

"I'm going to tie the Screw into you. And then we're going to go get some dinner. And yes, you'll be sitting on it."

I gulped, but nodded. Yes. Whatever. I'll do it.

He smiled down at me, reaching for the head of the screw. The dildo. Whatever.

"You know why? Don't you?"

I shook my head as the Screw moved inside of me.

"Because nympho humiliation pain sluts are required to have cock inside them at all times, or failing that, an appropriate sex toy that will keep the wet and ready at all times."

I laughed. I smiled. Of course.

Rule #1.

To be continued...

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