The Green Dress

“I like that dress on you,” Kari said as I stood in front of her desk. The emerald green number I was wearing was uncomfortably tight and displayed an amount of cleavage that would have satisfied Jessica Rabbit. I wasn’t anywhere near as well endowed, but I was already resisting the urge to wrap an arm across my bodice, for fear that my bosom would spill out. The rest of the dress was just as slinky, with tight tucks in all the right places and a dancing hem that was both too long and too short, in all the wrong spots. I wasn’t wearing stockings, per the standing order of my employer, lover, mistress and best friend, and even though they weren’t a perfect match, the black strap stilettos worked well with the outfit.

“Of course you do,” I snorted. “I look like a slut.”

Kari laughed as she checked her purse. “You are a slut,” she reminded me. “A nympho humiliation pain slut. How does the vibrating egg feel?” She asked.

I pressed my lips together, feeling humiliated. “Fine,” I said sullenly. Thirty minutes prior, she’d pulled me into her office, yanked up the dress, and proceeded to stuff my soft, wet slit with an object the size of an apple. Egg shaped and motorized, Kari held a control fob that could send a dizzying array of vibrations up into my body. Fortunately it was off. For the moment.

I wasn’t wearing panties either.

“And the clamp on your clit?”

I grit my teeth. “Also fine,” I assured her, though it was something of a lie. The clamp she’d hung on my clitoris was a more common duck-billed version, but hanging off of it was a chain beaded with six of the most awful and violent looking beads you’ve ever seen in your life. Spiked, prickly, and vicious looking, they teased my petals, working their way between my folds as I moved and sat, making me both self-conscious and insanely stimulated. I was constantly wanting to touch myself because of those damn things. The spiked beads also discouraged me from closing my legs tightly together. The pressure would be… unwise.

“Excellent,” Kari observed. “Now if you’ll just pull down the front of your dress, we can take care of the last item.”

I blinked. The front of the dress was already so low that anyone looking straight at me could practically see my nipples. Looking down my cleavage would probably give them a perfect view. For a moment, our eyes met and we just stared at each other. But then I did as I was told, pulling down the front of the dress. My tits fell out easily, which was just as disturbing as I thought it would be. Two luscious white globes capped with pink and gold were suddenly presented for Kari’s inspection. The pink was the tender exposed tips. The gold; the two piercings and the padlock that dangled from my breasts. I took a deep breath as she dug in her purse and pulled out two, silver colored, metal vice clamps.

They were squarish and awkwardly big. Inside the frame was a bar, mounted on the end of a screw. She placed the first one over my left nipple, threading the piercing all the way through it. Then she tightened it up until the tip of my breast was caught firmly between frame and bar. It hurt. I groaned and closed my eyes as she then did it to my right side, leaving me evenly balanced, both nipples burning and throbbing with discomfort.

“There,” she said simply. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her purse off the desk and I quickly yanked my dress back up over my bosom. She was already halfway down the hall and I made a mad scramble to follow her, only to almost trip and die as the vibrator buried in my pussy suddenly buzzed into life, sending waves of sexual stimulation up into my loins. I stumbled, gasping as orgasmic urgency surged through me and instinct made me press my thighs together. The beads hanging from my clit dug sharply into my skin.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

“Kari,” I whimpered, mentally telling myself to loosen up before she even got to the door. “I can’t…. I can’t… I can’t go to the meeting like this!” I begged her. Another wave of acute vibrational pleasure hit me like a brick and for the second time, my knees knocked together as my thighs locked tight. “I can’t!” Little sharp pins dug at my pussy.

She smiled at me. “You aren’t attending the meeting like this,” she said assuredly.

Another wave of acute pleasure, intermixed with pain, shot through me. “I’m not?” I stammered.

She shook her head. “No. But you will travel to it like this. You will suffer, and hopefully even cum, before we arrive. And then I’ll turn off the vibrations. You will sit, quietly, your nipples throbbing, your clit aching, while the beads torment your pussy.” She leaned forward and licked her lips. “I want the client to know that you’re available.”

“Am I?” I asked weakly. My pussy quivered violently in rapid spasms and it felt like I was dripping with need. “Available?”

Kari laughed. “Always. And utterly.” She kissed me then, softly, and on the lips. “Do you know what you are?”

“Fucked?” I replied bleakly as my body quivered with need, the vibrations swirling through my pussy.

“A nympho humiliation pain slut,” breathed Kari. “In every way. You are a sex object. To be hurt, to be humiliated and yes; to be fucked,” she replied. “And your reward for being the mindless fuckslut everyone wants to use?”

“I get to cum,” I whispered.

Kari smiled. “That’s right. You get to cum. You get to cum often, and the way you like. Powerful, mind blowing orgasms.” She straightened up and adjusted her purse. “And that is why you are dressed like a whore. It’s why I’ve attached clamps to your tits and clit, and why there are spiked beads playing with your pussy. It’s why you’re stuffed to the brim with a vibrating egg. Because I want you excited, and humiliated, and hurt. I want you to be an object of desire. And ultimately, I want you to cum.”

I looked up, breathless, eyes pleading. “Mistress? Can I please cum?”

She laughed. “Absolutely not!” Then she winked. “If you do, I’ll have to punish you. It will hurt you. And it will make you feel one other sensation. Do you know what that sensation is?”

“The need to cum more?”

“Exactly. It’s a beautiful, vicious cycle. Now, let’s go. We have a business meeting to attend.” She took my hand and led me out of the office. I knelt down to lock the door, pussy brimming with sensation, the clamp on my clit tingling. The beads fell away from petals, the back of the dress rising up, undoubtedly flashing my bare bottom and dripping cunt to my mistress. The bodice of the dress fell away from my breasts, showing off the steel square clamps on my nipples, and I locked the door. Finally I stood up, desperate and trembling, trying to adjust my dress as everything fell back into place. Kari turned and we headed toward the atrium door. I made it just twenty more steps.

“Kari?” I whispered, my voice strained.

“Yes, dearheart?” She replied, turning toward me.

“I think… I think…” I began, but then it hit me. Strong and sweeping. I gasped, my knees knocking together, my thighs tightening, my pussy squeezing the vibrating egg. The sharp spines of the beads dug into my folds, and my thighs. I wrapped my arms around my body and shook like a leaf, the orgasm surging through my veins. It took almost half a minute for me to calm down and Kari stood there, watching it with delight in her eyes.

“I think,” Kari said softly. “I think you deserve a punishment.” She licked her lips. “And what a punishment it will be!”

This tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog, but is now available in Breanne Erickson's Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 20, in e-book format from Amazon.com! Get your copy today!