I opened the package, looked down through the extraneous packing material and literally swore out loud. I might have accidentally, on-purpose, used a swear word. Twenty seconds later, I was tapping my foot angrily as Julie’s phone rang. She picked up, and I heard her normal, smug and pretentious greeting.
“Hello, princess. What’s up?”
I gritted my teeth, eyes narrowed as I once again looked down at the contents of the package. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I said angrily.
“Oooh!” She exclaimed. “You got them!” I could hear her moving around. “And so early in the day too! That’s perfect.”
I lifted my eyes from the box and pretended I could see the thin but beautiful woman on the other end of the line, and imagined me wiping that self-satisfied smirk from her face. The package had been delivered just ten minutes before and in hindsight, I was glad that my daughter hadn’t heard the doorbell. Explaining away the contents might have been a little awkward, if educational.
“You bought me an anal plug set?” I demanded. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Julie laughed. “I was thinking I’d really like your butt stuffed with plugs. Obviously,” she replied. “Are they all there? Do you like them?”
I lifted the actual product box out of the package and the wave of irritation I was feeling morphed into something between absolute fury and unadulterated terror. There wasn’t just one butt plug in the box. There were seven. In gradient sizes. The last one… it was beyond words. It was thicker than a beer can and was easily the largest anal plug I’d ever seen in real life.
The rest were… well… not cute. But manageable. Probably. The fifth one was still larger than what I was comfortable with and the sixth looked like something I’d much rather avoid. Each was made of shiny black rubber, tapered to a respectable point, and had the typical rounded spade shape, complete with an end cap. The first one was merely the width of my pinky. The second, the width of my thumb. The third… well, I’m sure you get the idea.
“You’re going to enjoy today’s punishment,” Julie said, realizing that I wasn’t going to answer her question.
“I get to toss these in the trash?” I said heatedly.
“Don’t you dare! Those cost over a hundred dollars!” She exclaimed.
“Why on earth would you invest over a hundred dollars so that I could walk around all day with a hard rubber plug stuck up my ass?” I demanded.
There was a long pause, as if Julie didn’t know the answer. “Why wouldn’t I?” She said curiously, as if I’d just asked a bewildering question.
I just stood there, flabbergasted.
Julie continued. “Anyway, it’s absolutely wonderful that they arrived so early, because now I can use them to punish you.”
I bit my lip. Fuck. This was not going to be good.
“So, let’s get the specifics out of the way, alright?” She said pleasantly. “Here’s what you’re going to do…”
***
It was just a little past eleven o’clock and just seventeen minutes since I’d talked to Julie, when I closed the door to my bedroom. The warm sunlight of spring came flooding through my window, only partially impeded by the half closed blinds that covered the glass. My room is rather spartan, which is interesting when you consider I work for an interior designer and I’m dipping my own toe into those waters. The bed is a queen, with two night stands on either side. There is about four feet of space between the side of the mattress and the window. Across from the end of the bed is a small desk, with an office chair, and that’s where my laptop sits. There’s a bureau in the corner, and then the door to the closet. The walls are painted white and I don’t have any window treatments. My quilt is homemade by my mother, soft and warm and it breathes.
Julie had been rather specific in her instructions and I flipped on the overhead light. This banished a few of the shadows cast by the blinds, but it wasn’t until I walked over to the window and pulled the cord, raising the slats to the window top, that my room was truly well lit. The morning sunshine spilled in and I blinked, looking out at the parking lot adjacent to my apartment.
There were about a dozen vehicles parked there, a result of the state-wide “shelter-in-place” order due to the Coronavirus infecting millions of people. I’d been stuck inside for almost two weeks by this point, and was suffering from the normal anti-socialization issues, along with a whole host of other depressing side effects, mostly having to do with the lack of sexual variety, which is why Julie was going out of her way to torment me.
And punish me. How the hell was I earning a punishment every fucking day?
My bed was already made and I didn’t want to get my quilt messy, so I pulled the bedcovers back, exposing a crisp, white sheet. Next, I went to my desk, opened up the new box, and pulled out the smallest of the dildos. It was the length of my forefinger, and only about as thick as my pinkie. Which was great. While no fan of anal sex, I was quite comfortable with having things stuck up my butt, since a number of my doms and dommes thought it was great fun to have me waddling around with a plug up my ass. Julie had even been generous enough to give me my choice of lubricants. I selected the clear sex jelly, and took both the tube and the toy to my nightstand.
Then I turned to face the window and took a deep breath. Part of my terror was having someone see me. It had already happened once and I was still starkly afraid of having the video show up on the internet. I didn’t even know the guy who took it. I’d just gotten a thumbs up. And here I was, about to risk it all again. I stepped up to the glass. Everything from my thigh up would be visible. I licked my lips, hesitating, checking out the view in each direction, watching for movement. Finally, I reached down to pull my tee shirt off, only to have a car swing into the lot, drive right past my window, and then park a few spaces down.
I admit, my heart rate shot up and I froze. I stood there, fully dressed, not daring to move as I watched one of my neighbors from a few doors down get out of their car with a bag of groceries and start ambling toward the door. They saw me and waved. I smiled and waved back, trying not to show just how terrified I was.
That was so fucking close…
I closed my eyes, counted to twenty, and opened them up again. The parking lot was empty. Just cars. No people.
And now it was time to strip.
I took off the shirt first. I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it, so both of my full, barbell pierced breasts came into view, lovely and full. The tips were bright pink and still sported some small bruises where the clamps from two days ago had been clipped. Still, they were firm and high and looked pretty darn good for a girl my age. I hurriedly pushed my gym shorts down, followed by the white and pink, bikini cut panties I had on. These I kicked off into the corner and only just barely caught the nine-inch long Husky dildo as it slipped out of my pussy.
Each and every nympho humiliation pain slut is required to follow Rule #1, which simply put, states that girls like me are to keep cock in them at all times. But that’s not always a possibility, so the rule goes on to explain that if cock isn’t available, a toy of some sort can be substituted. Well, since it’s not like I can spend every moment of every day mounted on someone’s erect dick, I’ve made something of a habit utilizing various dildos, vibrators, bullets, and spheres to keep to the spirit of the rule. The whole point is technically to keep me ready at a moment’s notice, so that anyone can just pull my pants down, bend me over the sofa, and jam whatever they want into my pussy.
Or, just possibly, it’s to keep my mental state as close to “fucking cum slut” as possible. Not sure which, but the fact that I’m literally aroused ninety-five percent of the time is telling.
I lifted the dildo. It was slick with my own arousal, so I stuck it in my mouth as I turned around and climbed up onto the bed. I knelt on the mattress, facing the window, eyes still darting left and right, scared to death that someone else would walk by. After I finished sucking my own goo off the Husky, I set it aside, reached for the jelly and the plug, and set myself to Julie’s task.
“I want you to turn on the lights, raise the blinds, and then strip naked,” Julie had told me. “After that, get up on the bed, and using whatever lubrication you desire, grease the plug and insert it into your ass.”
“In full view of the window,” I’d replied dejectedly.
“That’s correct. In full view,” she said with a laugh. “Once the plug is in your butt, you can adopt any position you want, as long as it is still on the bed, and you will masturbate until you cum.”
I’d hesitated. “Wait. I’m allowed to cum?” That was highly unusual.
Julie had laughed again. “Yes. Cum. Once you’re done you can get dressed, close the blinds if you want too, turn off the light. But keep the plug in your bottom until the top of the next hour. Then you’ll get the next size plug, turn on the lights, raise the blinds, strip naked, and on the bed remove the last plug and put in the new, slightly larger plug.”
“Oh my God,” I’d whispered. “And then I have to masturbate again?”
“All the way to orgasm.”
I blinked. “But… that means…” I stammered, leaving the implications unsaid. Julie laughed.
“See? You figured it out!” Julie congratulated me.
“But… but… there are seven plugs!” I blurted.
“Exactly.”
“I have to masturbate to orgasm seven times? One each hour?”
Julie laughed. “Yup. So get to it.”
And there I was. The narrowest, easiest of the plugs slid into my bottom with relative ease and I barely had to brace myself. I was already horny and I knew, as I grabbed the Husky Dildo again, that it wouldn’t take me long. I fell onto my back, bent my knees and spread my legs so that both of my bare feet were up in the air. Part of me said something along the lines of how I should rotate so that my pussy was pointed at the window, but Julie hadn’t said any such thing, so I ignored that inner voice, and instead squeezed the anal plug a bit while I began rubbing the Husky Dildo back and forth across my petals. Each movement made the tip strike my clitoris, and I hate to admit it, but being stuffed in the back door actually turned me on even more. I began moaning and within three or four minutes, I was thrusting the entire nine-inches of rubber deep into my sex with one hand, all while the other rubbed at my clit in tight circles. My back arched. I lifted my chin, eyes closed, suddenly not carrying if anyone was out there. I felt the pressure and heat rush through me. It wasn’t terribly intense, but it felt good. Then I let out a wild groan.
Metaphorically, I call it the cliffs of orgasm. Imagine running up to a yawning chasm. This time, I threw myself off into the abyss, reveling in the freedom to embrace the climax. I floated, falling, my body trembling with pleasure, my pussy and bottom both squeezing and quivering around their respective probes. I gasped as my toes curled and then the moment passed, leaving me breathless and feeling wonderful. I sighed, spreading my body out, resting as the sexual euphoria lifted me toward the mental heights I craved.
If you feel like I’m describing a junkie getting a hit, then you aren’t exactly wrong. I am a junkie. A cum junkie and my drug is orgasm. It was a good once. A decent one. But I’ll be honest. A small butt plug, no one outside to embarrass myself in front of, and a simple, nine-inch long rubber dildo? That’s vanilla baby. And the high I’d just given myself wouldn’t last long.
And besides, my fear of being seen rushed back quickly enough. I sat up, checked the lot, then scrambled for my clothes. I checked the clock as I dressed. Thirteen after eleven. I’d be back at it in just over forty-five minutes. Finally, I opened the door, my bottom still stuffed with the tiny plug, and went to make lunch.
***
It wasn’t until three o’clock that I realized the true horror of what Julie had done to me. I stood there, looking out on the world, standing buck naked, my bottom still uncomfortably full of the fourth largest dildo from the box. This one was about as big as I was used to. Easily the width of a banana, it filled me to the point where I wanted to waddle. The parking lot was empty, but I’d seen a number of people drive by, and even a few dog walkers during my earlier stints. Just… no one had seen me.
Thank God. My nerves were shot as it was.
I climbed up onto the bed and knelt facing the window. The first task was to remove the plug in my bottom. That hadn’t been difficult for plugs one, two, and three. But none of those were unusually sized. Four however… that was thick, and my fingers scrambled around in the left over remnants of sex jelly that I’d used to lube both my bottom and the plug. I had to mentally tell myself to relax, to open up, and to accept the pressure as my hand pulled the large rubber probe out of my bottom. It came out with a pop and I gasped, my bottom feeling much better, but exposed and vulnerable in a way that I really can’t describe.
I used a paper towel to clean off the plug and set it aside. All through this I kept an eye on the window. Since I wasn’t right up next to the glass anymore, I felt a little more secure, but I just didn’t know how visible I was. I reached over to the nightstand, grabbed Anal Plug number five and began lubing it with the jelly.
It was… ungainly. A half-inch bigger than plug number four, this one had extra length and additional girth. A cold, sour knot formed in my belly as I smeared the gel over it, trying to rationalize what I was about to do. I hate butt plugs. What the hell was I doing, kneeling on my own bed, ass in the air, pushing something the width of a beer bottle into my ass?
It took over five minutes to get it in, with a number of false starts, accidental tightenings, and even a few straight up “no fucking way is that thing going in there” moments. I grimaced, letting out a whimper of discomfort when it finally seated itself, my sphincter tightening around the base, holding it in place. I pushed, but there was no way for me to get it out, short of pulling and I didn’t want to do that. I used more paper towels to wipe the excess jelly off my ass, then turned over and carefully laid down on my back.
I’d opted for a different toy this time, having retired my Husky Dildo after orgasm number two. It just wasn’t sufficient to get me over the edge anymore, considering the discomfort in my rump and the fact that I’d already rubbed out four complete and quite satisfactory orgasms. That was part of Julie’s punishment too. There wasn’t even much of a break between these little playtimes. Each masturbation session was taking longer, leaving me naked and exposed in front of the window, buttstuffed with increasingly deep and wide plugs.
With my legs spread and my knees bent, I brought the bright, neon pink G-Spot vibrator down to my clit. I wasn’t sore at all, despite all the rubbing, mostly because it usually takes something more robust to make my clitoris swell up and get sensitive. Like clamps. Or getting beaten to a paste with a leather sap. Or someone whacking at my pussy with a leather belt. Or a flogger. Or some other kind of soft and supple, stinging whip.
And as those thoughts went through my head, with me laying there imaging Julie standing on the bed above me, wielding that heavy leather flogger, slashing it down on my pussy, I groaned as I felt my body giving into lust. My pussy clenched around the vibrator as I moved it down from my slit, sliding it through my petals, and plunging it so deep that I felt the tip press against the bottom plug, deep inside me. I brought it out, covered in my goo, and rubbed the shaking point against my clitoris again. I moaned, thrusting my hips up, my toes curling as I diddled myself closer and closer to the cliff edge, working my pussy into a froth. I needed to cum. I wanted to cum. I had to cum.
A shadow passed by the window and I jerked my head. Someone had walked by. I saw the shape of it! My pussy tightened and for a second I contemplated hiding, rolling off my bed onto the floor on the other side. Ducking out of sight. But as my heart raced and my pussy quivered, there was no other movement. Whoever it had been had walked right by without looking in. And of course, that was the icing on the cake. I grimaced, slid the vibrator out and pressed it against my clit again, and exploded.
Sweet bliss.
***
An hour before dinner I looked around the room. I was exhausted, uncomfortable, and was even contemplating calling Julie, just to ask for a reprieve. Mostly, my ass hurt. The sixth anal plug in the box had been the width of my wrist and getting it up inside me had taken almost a full fifteen minutes on the bed. Most of that time had been me struggling with my own psyche, telling myself constantly that my bottom was meant to be impaled with something as thick and wide as a baseball bat. My rear end, on the other hand, had protested vigorously, tightening and shifting each time I attempted to push the massive rubber plug in deep. Even when I managed it, my bottom was unused to anything that big and had made it clear that it still considered that particular hole an exit, not an entrance. My rump felt like I’d been spanked from the inside, my colon targeted by stampeding cows or something.
I flipped on the lights. It was late afternoon and the sunlight was now streaming through the porch slats on the backside of the apartment, rather than through the blinds of my window. Still, there was more than enough light to illuminate a naked fuck slut if she happened to be standing right next to the glass, or even if she was kneeling on the bed itself. I waddled over to the window and looked out. The parking lot was still full of cars, but I didn’t see anyone. To be honest, I’d never quite known just how busy this particular lot really was until Julie had made the decision to leave me naked, standing at the fucking window, or masturbating on the bed, just to count passersby.
I raised the blinds. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to. There was just one more anal plug to endure, and just one more masturbation. The tube of sex gel and the massive, disturbingly thick plug sat on the nightstand. I was just about to start stripping, eyes locked on the parking lot, when my phone rang.
“Hello Princess! How’s your ass?” Julie asked cheerfully when I answered.
I scowled. “It hurts,” I said shortly. “And to be honest, I’m worried about the big one.”
Julie made a scoffing noise. “Come on. You’ve taken plugs that big before.”
“Yeah, when someone was there helping, and I was aroused out the wazoo, or I was tied up or something,” I retorted. “And had no choice,” I muttered quietly afterward.
Julie ignored my protestations. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do just fine. I am glad that your bottom is hurting though, because this was supposed to be punishment. Just imagine what it will feel like when the big one is in!”
“Why imagine?” I asked sourly. “I’m going to get to experience it in a moment.” I set the phone on speaker and put it on the nightstand. “Look, did you call to harass me?” I asked, pulling off my shirt and tossing it in the corner. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so both my breasts flashed silver, full and ripe.
“What?” Julie said, “of course not! I called because I wanted to experience a bit of your humiliation. Have you been a good girl and stripped at the window each time?”
I sighed. “Doing it right now,” I told her. I shoved my thumbs into the shorts and hooked my panties at the same time. It all went down to my ankles and I kicked it off. Next, I slipped my finger through the wire sticking out of my pussy. With the bigger plugs, I’d been too uncomfortable to stick my Husky Dildo back in, or even my 6 inch vibrator. I’d settled for my vibroballs, turning them on to a low rumble, just to try to get energized for the next cum. It hadn’t been easy. I pulled them out and hit the control fob on the desk, silencing them.
“That sounded like a vibrator. Are you following NHPS Rule #1?” Julie asked curiously.
I went back to the bed. “Vibroballs, and yes, they were on. I’ve orgasmed six time today and it’s not that easy when you aren’t here to whip my pussy and breasts,” I taunted her.
Julie laughed. “Doesn’t mean I still can’t hurt you. Why don’t you wear some clamps on your titties for this last one?”
I froze. Me and my fucking big mouth. “Which ones?” I asked stupidly, then swore again, under my breath. I mentally cursed myself. I should have just gone and got the vibrating clamps. Now, I’d have to suffer whatever Julie wanted.
“Hmmmm, let me think about that for a moment. Go press your tits against the glass while I muse.”
I bit my lip, but then waddled over to the window. The parking lot was still empty of people and I pushed my bosom against the glass. It didn’t feel cold, but it wasn’t warm either. My pussy quivered wetly. It didn’t like being empty. And on the other side, my bottom clenched around the sixth plug. It didn’t like being full. I stood there, feeling as if the axe were about to fall, the glass cold against my nipples.
“I’m inclined to just go with a set of duckbill clamps,” said Julie after a moment. “I mean, those are simple and will pinch those cute little titties of yours rather nicely. But I have to admit, I’m not hip on the rubber tips. And you can’t really get them tight enough.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she went on without stopping.
“Which makes me think clover clamps might be better. Especially if they’re the ones with the plier ridges on them. You could hang those on your tits and tug on the chain and they'll just tighten more and more, until you’re in agony.”
I gulped.
“If we had a bit more time, I’d think that the TENS Unit clamps I got you might be better. But the wires are a mess and frankly, I’m not sure you turning it up to level six on both sides will really hurt you properly. We’d need an hour at level five first before really starting in on your tits.”
My eyes widened. She couldn’t be serious… could she?
“And that’s more of a punishment in and of itself,” she said idly, still musing. “Tweezer clamps are obviously out because those things don’t hurt at all, and the same with the vibrator clamps. It’s almost like ‘why bother’? Right? So that just leaves the guillotine clamps and the alligators.”
My mouth went dry. The guillotine clamps were these godawful steel cages that fit over your breast, with a hanging duckbill clamp that attached to your nipple. Then, with your areola stretched and the tip of your breast caught and pulled outward, a screw was tightened, tugging the nipple further and further away, against the frame. It was agony if done right. It was excruciating if done wrong. I blubbered.
“P-p-please Mistress?” I managed to say. “Can I wear the alligator clamps?”
Julie chuckled. “Oh. Well if you have a preference,” she allowed.
I went back to my toybox and got the alligator clamps. They were essentially electrician clips, designed to connect wires and conduct electricity. These had been altered slightly, the teeth dulled and the pressure lessened by Julie’s finance into something that wouldn’t cut into my skin and leave me bleeding. But they would still hurt like the dickens.
I faced the window. No one was out there. I lifted the clamps and put them on, dangling from my nipples, gasping and wincing as the metal teeth bit into the tender tips of my breasts. “They’re on,” I croaked. Julie made a purring sound.
“Now baby, take that plug out of your ass.”
I moved to the bed and scrambled up onto the mattress. Removing the anal plug was much easier than putting it in, but it was still a challenge. It was just too big and I panted and gasped as I struggled to pull the widest portion out. When it came loose, I squealed, my arm jerking, only to topple over as I became unbalanced, landing on my side.
“Oh my God,” I blubbered. My bottom felt like I’d just driven a truck through it. Or shitted a literal brick. I blinked back tears. And damn it, now my breasts were hurting too!
“That sounded wonderful,” Julie said softly. “Now, it’s time for the big one.”
I wiped at my tears with my wrist and let the butt plug in my hand drop onto the floor. The hell with it. “Julie, my bottom hurts so much,” I whimpered.
“Good. That’s the point. Now lube up the last one, get it in, and then I want you to masturbate so hard your breasts jiggle.”
I turned back toward the nightstand. The last anal plug was huge. As thick as a soup can, or my clenched fist. Getting it in would be awful. My hand trembled as I picked up the tube of jelly and began squeezing the clear lube out onto the plug. I ran my finger around the tip in circles, delaying the inevitable.
“Well, I don’t hear you. Go on. Do it. Push it in your ass.”
I closed my eyes, reached behind, and set the tapered, thick tip against my bottom.
“I can’t!” I suddenly exclaimed. “Not like this!” I reared up on the bed and swung my legs down.
“What?” said Julie, “Like what?”
I went over to the desk chair. “Like this. I can’t just kneel and stick this thing in,” I told her. “It’s too big and I’m not strong enough, okay?” I said in frustration. I grabbed one of my coasters and set it down in the center of the chair.
“Are you saying you won’t do it?” Asked Julie in a cross tone. “Are you refusing to obey an order of your mistress?”
I pressed the anal plug down onto the coaster. It was sitting in the very center of the chair. My nipples throbbed as the alligator clamps wiggled with my movements. My God, it looked so big. It filled the seat. I closed my eyes and turned the chair around so that it faced the window.
“If you think you’re going to get away with…” Julie continued, but I stopped her.
“It’s in the chair,” I said softly. “I’m not strong enough to push it in,” I added. I turned my back to the plug and slowly positioned myself over it. I grabbed hold of the arm rests and then lifted my right leg and did something insane. I stuck my bare little foot through the armrest, out to the side of the chair. My desk chair was old school and the arm rests were plastic loops. Once I had a leg through it, there would be no way for me to move it to the front. I grabbed hold of the other side, turned my left leg, and did it again. Straddling the chair, I squatted above it, the tip of the plug just barely grazing my bottom. I reached down between my legs, positioning it. My toes were outstretched, barely capable of holding up my weight because my legs were open so wide, the tops of my thighs jammed against the armrests.
“I’m not strong enough to push it in,” I repeated. “But I am heavy enough,” I said finally.
“Wait. What?” Julie asked.
And I sat down.
My arms bore some of my weight, but much of my one hundred and twenty five pound frame sank down until almost four inches of expanding rubber penetrated my bottom. It was so fast that my ass tightened, trying to close up, but there was just too much plug in there already. The second I relaxed, already keening loudly, another inch delved up into my innards, filling me with hard rubber. I struggled with my feet, toes reaching out as the awkward position, legs spread obscenely wide, trying to get enough purchase to lift up. But I just couldn’t do it. Not in this position. My arms began shaking and there was no way to stay up. I braced myself, gasping and whimpering. Then my arms gave out and I sank down further. Pain exploded in my bottom as my ass was forced open. I felt it when the full width pushed through, into me, and my buttocks finally touched the seat. My ass closed up again, around the base, hurting so much that I didn’t even feel the alligator clamps anymore. Monster plug inserted in a single minute. I sobbed, crying now.
“Oh. Oh wow,” Julie whispered. “Are you sitting in the chair?” She asked.
I was too far away from the nightstand and my vibrator, and there was no way I was getting out of the chair to reach my toybox. My legs were forced wide open and I was mounted in a way that sent shards of agony through my bottom. I reached down to my pussy and began rubbing at it.
“Baby? Princess? Are you okay?”
“Hurtsssssss,” I hissed, still struggling to reignite the passion, the need. But I’d cum too much. Seven orgasms? One right after another? One an hour? I rubbed at my cunt listlessly.
Julie’s voice got deeper. “Breanne, I know it hurts darling. But, you know what? That’s okay. It's supposed to hurt.”
I moaned. My voice caught in my throat and I thought I was going to burst into tears again. But yet, there was something in Julie’s voice that got to me.
“Look at you,” she cooed. “Spread open, ass aching, rubbing your cunt. If someone walks by right now, they’re going to see the real you. The little fuck slut whose sole purpose in life is to be sexually tormented. Do you know why?” Julie asked. I didn’t answer. “Do you know why, Breanne?” She repeated.
“Why?” I asked, suddenly realizing that my fingers were wet.
“Because you are a nympho humiliation pain slut. Do you know why I love you?”
“Why?” To my surprise, I slid a finger into myself.
“Because your purpose is to make me happy by letting me hurt you. Isn’t it?”
I clenched my teeth. “Hurt me,” I repeated, swirling the finger around.
“That’s right. Ask me to hurt you,” Julie hissed.
“Mistress? Please hurt me,” I whispered.
“A fuckslut like you?” She taunted. “That’s all you’re good for. Being spread open and fucked and hurt. And right now it's hurting the way it's supposed to. Take one of the clamps off your tits and put it on your clit!”
My left hand came up to my breast and pinched open the clamp. Agony surged through the nipple as the blood rushed back in and I glanced down to see a series of red indentations where the teeth had bitten into me. I moved the clamp downward. My clit was hanging out, swollen and red and waiting. I centered the alligator clamp above it, letting it close slowly. The pain was incredible, surging through me and I rose up in the chair, the plug going with me. I bounced, more from the overwhelming hurt than anything else, and I screeched loudly.
“Now,” Julie breathed. “Fuck yourself. Push your dildo in.”
“Don’t…. can’t reach… no dildo,” I gasped.
“Then use your fingers!” Julie insisted. “Fuck yourself. Hard! Twist the clamps! I want to hear you sobbing and cumming!”
I let out a cry as I thrust two fingers into my pussy, my palm hitting the alligator clamp on my clit. It twisted to the side and my vision went white, pain exploding through my loins. I tightened up, the armrest creaking as my legs struggled to close, thighs burning at the splits I was maintaining. I rubbed frantically and wetness burst into my hand as I bleated like an animal, nipples throbbing, bottom burning, my clit seared as if a hot poker had been laid against it. I heard a slapping sound, wet and sickly, and realized it was my own hand, cupping my pussy, two fingers filling my cunt as I rose up off the seat, my hand working between my legs.
My legs trembled and my toes burned trying to support my own weight. I sat there, staring out the window, eyes glazed over as I fapped and slapped my pussy, each blow of my palm striking the alligator clamp and twisting it to the side. My clitoris seemed to scream in agony, shards of pain exploding through me. But I felt something else. Something so wrong and so right, all at the same time. I gritted my teeth and wished to God someone would come up to the window, to see me, to video tape me, to just break through the glass and stick their fucking cock so far up my pussy that I’d feel it pressing against my belly button.
“Breanne, when this COVID thing is done, I’m going to lay you out like a buffet and beat your pussy and tits until they’re so hot and red that I’d be able to cook a steak on your skin,” Julie teased.
I cried out, the orgasm shooting through me. It was a soft one, despite the pain, or maybe because of it, and the euphoria only lasted seconds. I let out a desperate whimper, my hands pulling the clamps off, tossing them to the floor, before sinking down, relaxing enough to get one leg bent and pulled out of the chair’s armrest.
“Bre?” Julie asked. “Bre? Did you cum?”
I twisted, standing on one leg and clinging to the chair. “Yes,” I said softly. “I came.”
“How do you feel?” She asked.
I didn’t answer, extricating myself from the precarious position.
“You can… um… take the clamps off.”
I reached back, my ass to the window, and grabbed the ass plug. I yanked, letting out a terrible groan as the huge monster came out of my butt. I closed my eyes, tears welling up. Then I tossed it down.
“Bre?”
Slowly, I waddled into the bathroom. I looked at myself. My cheeks were streaked, my eyes red. Both nipples had red marks and my clit looked raw. I turned around. My bottom still hadn’t closed, the sphincter unable to tighten up enough. I wiped at my face.
“Bre? Baby, answer me. Are you alright?”
Slowly I went back into the room and I shut the blinds. I picked up my shirt and shorts.
“Breanne. Answer me!”
I took a deep breath. “I’m here,” I said simply.
“Oh thank God!” Julie said, letting out a sigh of relief. “I thought you might have passed out! I was so worried! Are you okay? Why didn’t you say something?”
I reached down and picked up the seventh plug. “I don’t want to put this thing in my bottom ever again,” I said. “It was too much.”
Julie was silent for a moment. “Too much?”
I nodded, even knowing she couldn’t see me.
“It hurt too much.” I set it down on the desk, then put the sixth one next to it.
I thought about sitting down, but just couldn’t.
“Breanne, are you obeying nympho humiliation pain slut rule number one?” Julie asked softly.
I blinked. “How can you ask me to do that? After what you just did to me?” I let out a choked sob. “After what I just did to me!”
“Breanne, what are you?” Julie asked softly.
I sniffed. “An idiot,” I muttered.
“Bre, you are not an idiot. What are you?”
“A nympho… nympho humiliation pain slut,” I managed to get out.
“That’s right. And what’s your purpose?”
“To be… to be… used.”
“And hurt. And fucked. For pleasure. My pleasure,” agreed Julie. “And that means I want you to put the Monster Vibrator back into your pussy. Okay?”
I looked around. It took me a moment to find it. I didn’t want to slip it in. I was too worried it would hurt. But finally I rubbed the tip against my pussy, down near the opening and far away from my clitoris. It dipped and entered as I let out a groan.
“Now I’m going to turn it on. Do you know why?”
I bit my lip. “Why?” I asked plaintively.
“Because you are a fuck slut. And I’m going to leave it on until it's time for you to go to bed. Do you want to know why?”
“WHY?” I practically screamed. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”
And she sighed. “Because I want to. And you want me to. So don’t cum, Bre. Not until nine pm. Don’t you dare cum.”
And the Monster Vibrator started up, slow and swirling and steady. My pussy tightened around it. But cum? There was no way I’d be able to do that. My body was just too tired, too strained, too torn apart, too…
I felt it. The arousal. The need. Just a hint of it. Oh my God. I felt faint. I swayed on my feet and put a hand out, bracing myself against the wall. There was just no way. No fucking way…
“Julie?” I whispered. “What if I cum?”
She laughed. “Then you’ll be punished of course. And while seven might have been too much, you evidently handled number six with no problem. Imagine sleeping with that in there tonight! But, come on. You’ve cum seven times today. I’m sure you’ll be able to resist.”
And the Monster Vibrator increased speed. A flurry of spasms rose up from my sex and I closed my eyes. How could she? How could I? And what did it mean? I pulled the vibrator half way out and slid it in again. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I started to pant as I fell back against the bed, spreading my legs, pushing and pumping the roaring vibrator. I whimpered, whining and gasping.
In the background, I could hear Julie laughing. “I’ll talk to you at bedtime, princess. I’m sure you won’t need it, but have that sixth plug ready! Love you.”
I won’t swear to it. But I’m pretty damn sure that the Monster Vibrator went to full power.
And I had the sixth plug back in my bottom fifteen minutes later.
If you enjoyed this tale, please support Breanne by purchasing her latest novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 20", available in both print and e-book formats at Amazon.com. Or if you've already gotten this book and all her others, think about leaving a review! It doesn't cost anything but a little bit of time and tells other potential readers how much you enjoyed her work!
There is something tangible about exploration, and how we learn new skills. For me, getting to experience a variety of different sexual concepts through Gretchen's eyes, was quite entertaining. There were a number of arousing scenes and scenarios, with just enough odd ball side quests to keep the story fresh and interesting. Add in the taboo factor - even some of the adults who Gretchen uses as sexual fodder balk at the idea of a sexually active 8th grader - and there is definitely something for everyone. From school girl slut to party trash whore to cock-sucker extraordinaire, Gretchen is only interested in improving her reputation, and a "no consequences" environment provides her with the memories of her previous lessons, without the baggage. But like Murray's "Phil Conners," Gretchen runs into the same problems, having to explain over and over what she needs and works hard to get it.
