Thursday, June 17, 2010

Assignment 06-17/10

Yesterday's Assignment: Assigned by Anonymous: You will dress in tight jeans, no panties, high heels, and a tee shirt. Do not wear a bra. You will drive to the nearest mall and lift your shirt. Put one rubber band clamp over each nipple. Pull your shirt back down. Take two clothespins and put them on your nipples, through the tee shirt. You will then pull down your jeans and insert your ben wa balls. Get your clothes back in place. You will go into the mall and walk half of the circumference, then return to your vehicle. If a clothespin falls off at any time, you will put the clothespin back on immediately.

Embarrassment can come in a variety of flavors. There's embarrassment from farting in public. There's embarrassment from saying the wrong thing. And of course there is embarrassment that comes from being a nympho humiliation pain slut and doing an assignment in public. I've suspected that the mall security staff have me pegged and comments like "Oh. THAT girl" are a frequent occurrence despite the fact that I try hard to space out my sexual misadventures between several different malls. That said, I embarked on this little foray with the knowledge that while completing this assignment I would be thoroughly humiliated, I would also stay completely dressed. And trust me, that's a big issue.

Getting dressed up is half the fun. I spent a few moments going through my wardrobe and came to the awful conclusion that with the exception of my jeans and lack of panties, everything else was going to have to be taken. So, since I was already wearing a pair of blue denim shorts, a decent sized tee-shirt, along with both panties and bra, I stuffed everything I was going to need into my duffel bag and headed out the door. Everything got tossed into the cab of the truck and shortly after ten am I found myself pulling up on the side of the road directly behind our farm.

Some people say stripping is an art form. Maybe it is. But when you don't have an audience except for the occasional errant starling and a few bunny rabbits hiding in the grass, it’s more of a "lets get this done and over with" sort of thing. As I've done many times, I peeled off my tee shirt, folded it nicely, and placed it on the hood of the truck. My bra followed immediately, and then I kicked off my flip flops. My shorts and panties went next and I grabbed my jeans and began shoving myself into them.

They were my tightest pair and seemed to need me flexible and stretchable in order to get into them properly. There was a great deal of groaning and grunting as the tight material finally conformed to my buttocks and calves. Then, still barefoot and naked from the waist up, I pulled my new tee shirt from the bag. Or maybe I should say my old tee shirt. The one I was putting on was an old soccer tee shirt from when I was in high school. It was a little faded, just a tad bit threadbare, almost transparent with age, and so tight that had I put a quarter on my belly it would be seen through the cloth. It was that tight.

And damn, it was uncomfortable too! I pushed hard, a little worried I was going to tear it as I forced my breasts into the bloody thing. Finally wiggling enough so that it covered all my salient parts, I looked down and realized that about two inches of my belly was showing. Oh well. No other options really. I reached over to my duffel bag and grabbed my high heels. Getting them on wasn’t that difficult, but I was a bit breathless afterward. The waistband of my jeans was cutting into my midriff during the whole process.

I got back in the truck and drove to the mall. It was a pretty quick drive and my attire didn’t really bother me, even the fact that I was going commando. To be honest, wearing or not wearing panties doesn’t really phase me. When I was living with Kari, panties were only allowed during very special occasions. I can’t tell you how often I got sent to class wearing a mini-skirt and a tee shirt and nothing else. Sure, I could feel the seams of the jeans against my flesh, but it wasn’t sexually stimulating…yet.

I pulled up into our local mall and drove around till I found a comfortable spot. Comfortable meaning far enough away from the other cars so that no one would see me do what I was about to do, and close enough that I wouldn’t attract the attention of mall security. I put the truck in park, left it running for the AC, and began unsnapping my jeans.
It took just as much effort to get them down to my knees as it took to get them up and after falling backward across both seats of my truck, I was finally able to get my legs spread enough to accomplish the next portion of my assigned task: ben wa balls. I had already pulled them out of the duffel during the wrestling match with my clothing and I slipped them down between my legs, rubbing the golf ball sized spheres against my slit until I ripened. A moment later the first ball popped into me, eliciting a small gasp and then I shoved the second ball in, letting the little sex toy settle. Then I attacked my jeans again.

The problem with tight jeans is that they are sometimes tough to get up around your butt. The problem with ben wa balls is that they stimulate you sexually when you’re moving around. Ben wa balls and putting on tight jeans are a recipe for some serious sexual urges. By the time I buttoned my jeans and got everything into place, my pussy was soaked and I was thinking that masturbating would be a really fun thing to do. But instead I grabbed my duffel and pulled out a small plastic bag.

When I was a teenager, my parents put me in braces. I’m grateful, because my smile is straight and pretty nice now. But when I was in them, it drove me nuts. For about five months the orthodontist had me wear these absolutely horrible little rubber bands which put pressure on my jaw because they had to be stretched from one tooth to another. I got a whole box full of these tiny elastic circles and it had been Kari who discovered that they fit over my nipples rather nicely, tightening them completely. They also sat behind the little bulge of my nipple, meaning they don’t come off unless you pull them off or cut them off.

Glancing around the parking lot, I pulled up my shirt, exposing my breasts. The cold AC blowing on my tits was just enough to get both nipples to pucker and I shook out two little rubber bands. I flicked a finger at my right nipple, feeling a little shiver of excitement and pleasure rush through me, right to my clit. Then I stretched the little rubber band as far as possible, positioned it over my nipple, and let it go.

They aren’t clamps. The bands don’t tighten enough for that. It’s like having someone holding on to each nipple, gently squeezing, but never letting go, no matter how I move. That’s what these feel like. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I wore these to school, my nipples two hard little bumps on the front of my tee shirt. I remember one teacher pulling me aside and giving me a little talk about how I was dressing inappropriately for a lady my age. Kari had been standing in the doorway, laughing at my distress.

I put the other rubber band on so that I now had a matched set of turgid, exposed nipples. With a grin, I carefully lowered the shirt back down over my breasts. Both nipples stood out like pebbles on a sea of smooth sand and I could feel the elastic pressing into both breasts. Heck, just walking through the mall like this would attract attention. I didn’t need the clothespins! But the clothespins were what this assignment was about. I grabbed the two wooden pegs I had brought and rattled them in my hands.

You know what? I just realized that I did everything out of order. I just looked back at the assignment. I was supposed to put the rubber bands and clothespins on first, before I did the ben wa balls. Damn. I wonder if that’s going to cost me. I suspect a punishment will be coming for that screw up, but it’s too late now. Drat.

I lifted the first clothespin up to my left nipple and let it bite down on the extended little nub. I gasped. It was sticking straight out pointing toward the steering wheel. I put the other one on, watching them bounce slightly with every breath. There. All done. Oh. Well, except for going on a walk through the mall.

I got out of the truck, rather carefully I might add. I wasn’t sure how well the clothespins were going to stay on my breasts. They wiggled a lot as I moved and I kept expecting one or the other to pop off. But they stayed on and I locked my truck and headed toward the main entrance of the mall.

It was still a little early for lunch and too be honest, the mall had just opened maybe a half hour before hand. As a result, I didn’t see anyone in the parking lot except for a lady who was getting out of her car but was too far away to really see me. And she wasn’t looking. I felt the cool air surround me as the main doors opened and I stepped into the darker interior, filled with neon lights, the sounds of piped music, and the scents of lemon cleaner and fried foods.

I had parked near the food court which was actually a nice mid point spot and walked across it. I was about half way through the court when I saw the first person realize what I had attached to my body and he smacked his co-worker behind the counter and they both stared as I walked by. I licked my lips, trying to ignore the shocked looks, but I felt butterflies emerge in my belly. I quickened my pace slightly, trying to remain calm as I rounded the corner and started off down the mall corridor.

I began passing people. Not many, and quite a few of them were vendors, you know, the guys who run those little carts in the middle of the concourse? Yeah. I have to admit, having clothespins on your nipples is a good way to keep them from asking you to try yadda yadda yadda, but it also draws a lot of attention. The shocked looks I was getting were having an effect.
Of course, the ben wa balls weren’t helping either. My quickened pace also quickened my body’s production of juices and the ben wa balls were floating and rolling through my pussy, rubbing and rolling and ringing, so that after just a quarter of the mall I was ready to yank my jeans down and rub my clit until I orgasmed. But I didn’t. I kept going. It was on a set of stairs leading down to another level of the mall that the clothespin on my right nipple popped off.
It clattered to the ground and I stopped. Bending down to pick it up was just as sexually agonizing as walking, but in a different way as the ben wa balls rubbed me in unusual spots. I let out a soft moan as I stood, lifting the clothespin back to my breast.

“What are you doing?” I heard a girl ask. I looked up, pulling the clothespin away from my breast, just in time to see a rather beautiful girl standing at the entrance to one of the small junk jewelry stores. Long black hair framed a rather pale face. Her eyes were wide and she looked slightly shocked. I took a deep breath and then replied.

“I’m walking the mall.” Yeah, duh. Of course that’s what I’m doing.

She gave me this look of disbelief. “Dressed like that? With clothespins on your tits?” Her hands went down to her hips. “Is this some sort of sorority test or something?”

“Uh…it’s the something.” I stammered. I can’t explain why I was so embarrassed. Considering some of the things I’ve done, in public, you would think I could just tell this waif of a girl, who certainly wasn’t any older than me, that I was fulfilling a sex assignment from my online master.

“Come in here for a second. I want to talk to you” she said, motioning me in to the store.

I have no idea why I followed her into the little jewelry store. Maybe because I was dreading the rest of my clothespin covered walk. Or maybe it was the certain and confident command to follow her. But I did it. I went in. She moved to the very back and I stepped up close to her.

“Does that hurt?” She asked, pointing to the one clothespin still attached to my bosom. I shook my head.

“Not these. It just tingles.”

She leaned closer, studying my breasts. “Are you cold? Why are your nipples sticking out like that?”

I took a deep breath. “Rubber bands. Little ones. Around each nipple” I explained.

She glanced up, eyes surprised. “Really? Can I see?”

I hesitated slightly. Pulling up my shirt in a jewelry store really wasn’t part of the deal, but I nodded, pulled off the other clothespin, and gently tugged the stretched cotton upward. We were at the very back of the space, behind several stands of earrings.

“Wow!” The girl said, lifting one finger. “These are cool? Where do you get them?” She touched my nipple and wiggled it back and forth. I gasped slightly, my thighs pressing together. It was as if my breast was connected directly to the ben wa balls and I let out a soft moan as the pleasure rushed through me.

“I… uh… have a bag of them… uh… in the truck.” I replied, my sentence punctuated by little surges of delight.

Both of her hands came up and suddenly it was as if my nipples were the volume control knobs on a radio. She twisted them, pinched them slightly, poked them, and I put a hand out on one of the stands to steady myself. Then she leaned forward and her tongue came out of her mouth. I noticed the silver stud piercing it and then she actually licked my left nipple.

I didn’t cum, but it was about as close to cumming as you can possibly get without actually doing it. I felt weak at the knees and trembled. Suddenly her eyes widened and she stepped back, looking at me. She grinned and then held out her hand.

“I’m Julie” she said, beaming. Evidently the new way to greet people at this store was to suck on their breasts before introducing yourself. I thought about reciprocating for a second, but then decided that it probably wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Breanne” I replied, taking her hand firmly. Then I took a good look at Julie. She was maybe five foot six, just a tad taller than me. We were both wearing heels which sometimes make it hard to judge size. While I was in skin tight jeans, she was in khaki capris that were just a tad too short, leaving a lot of leg exposed. Her calves each sported some fancy tattoos, as did her arms, which I finally noticed. A soft pink tee shirt wrapped around her frame and I could see she was wearing a thin bra. Her ears were pierced, multiple times, as was her nose, and there were some tell tale bulges at the tips of her breasts that made me suspect she had a few piercing elsewhere.
“So what’s the something?” Julie asked, once more reaching out and cupping my breast, running one thumb along the side. Seriously, she seemed very focused. I left my shirt up as I explained about Michael Blog and the Breanne website and my daily assignments. You should have seen her perk up.

“Seriously? You do sex assignments?” She let go of my breasts and moved over to her sales counter. A small netbook computer was set up next to the cash register and she quickly logged on with a grin. I got asked the address and after telling her, she quickly checked out both the blog and the website. In the mean while, I pulled my shirt back down, covering my still rubber banded nipples.

Julie glanced up at me, a frown on her face. “Did I say you could cover up?” She demanded.
Uh…surprise? I gave her one of my “you’ve got to be kidding me” looks. She glared at me. Okay okay! I pulled my shirt back up, feeling just a little bit strange standing in the jewelry store with my breasts hanging out. I stood there for about five or ten minutes while Julie read, wondering what would happen if a real customer stepped into the store. Finally Julie looked up and nodded at my breasts.

“Shouldn’t you put your clothespins back on?” she asked. I took a deep breath. She was right. I probably should have. So I started to pull my shirt back down and she reached out and grabbed my wrist.

“No. While you’re in my store the clothespins go on bare skin. Here, I’ll help you” She said. She plucked both clothespins from out of my hand and held them up to my breasts. Beats me why I let her, but I held still and then she let both of them bite down on my nipples. I gasped again, feeling the surge of wetness between my legs and I felt a little tremor go through me.

“So, you’ve got a pair of ben wa balls inside you right now?” she asked. I nodded.

“And no panties?” I bit my lip and gave her another little dip of my head.

“Prove it. Pull those jeans down.” With a nervous glance toward the entrance of the store I reached down to my waist and quietly unsnapped my button. The zipper went down and then I was shaking my rear end out of the jeans. I only pulled them about half way down my ass before starting to put them back in place, but Julie stopped me.

“I need to check that you’re wearing the ben wa balls too.” Her eyes flashed and I knew that I needed to do this.

I pushed my jeans down to my knees and spread my legs slightly. I closed my eyes as fingers touched my sex, probing and sliding into the folds as Julie checked to make sure I had my ben wa balls embedded properly. Or maybe it was just an excuse?

Then I got grilled. She asked a ton of questions, all the while her fingers were playing with my clit. Who sets my assignments? How long do I get to do them? What if I don’t like them? What punishment do I get if I fail the assignment? How do I prove I do them? Stuff like that. It was awkward, standing there, my breasts completely exposed, clamped, my jeans around my knees, at the mercy of a girl no older than myself, trying to explain the nature of my…um… “employment” with Michael.

When I answered all of her questions she looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m modifying your assignment” she announced.

I shook my head. “Sorry, you can’t mess with what another master or mistress has assigned.” This wasn’t technically true, since I’ve accepted alterations before, provided that they didn’t screw with the original assignment, but hey, Julie didn’t know that. She gave me a frown but then finally nodded.

“Okay, fine. You will finish your assignment. But then you will get that little bag of rubber bands and come right back to my store.” She looked thoughtful. “Make sure you’re wearing those clothespins and keep the ben wa balls in too.” She motioned toward my pants. “You can pull those up now.”

I struggled back into my denim jeans, wondering if the pants were too small or my ass was too big. Eventually I got back into them, my breasts bouncing up and down, my nipples throbbing, my pussy soaked. I looked back at Julie, a look of trepidation on my face. She waved a hand toward the exit.

“Go on. Go finish your assignment.” She said firmly.

“Uh…Mistress? What about my shirt? I’m supposed to have it down when I walk the mall.” I said politely. I’m not sure why I called her mistress.

She screwed up her face into a look of disgruntlement but then finally let out a sigh. “I suppose. I guess it will keep security off your back. Okay, but the moment you get back in here I want it up and your clothespins back on bare tits, got it?” I nodded. Got it.

I took off the two clothespins, hissing as I did, and then lowered the shirt back over my bare breasts. It was something of a relief to be covered again, though the sensation went away the moment I replaced the clothespins, this time over the stretched faded thinning cotton tee shirt.
Julie walked me to the exit. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get back here, Bre. If you aren’t, I can promise you that that your punishment will be severe” she said.

I nodded and stepped out of the jewelry store and away from Julie. My mind churned almost as much as my pussy, and it wasn’t until I was past the outdoor sports shop that my body finally couldn’t cope with the stimulation, stares, and open humiliation. I careened toward a wall, my sex convulsing in orgasmic bliss and I barely stayed upright. When my orgasm subsided, I started moving again, ignoring the wet sloshing and damp cloth between my legs.

I made it back to the same entrance I had come in at. More people were moving around and the stares and snide comments I was hearing were getting more extreme. Some women gave me open looks of disgust. Guys stared as if I were USDA choice prime cut. I never did see security. I headed toward the exit and made a beeline for my truck.

For just a moment I considered not going back. I mean seriously, what was I thinking? Sure, Julie turned me on. She was exciting. She made embarrassed me. Just thinking about her made me want to masturbate. But I had absolutely no requirement to go back to that little store.

My orgasm had delayed me and I was running up on my twenty minute mark. I hurried to my truck, jumped in, grabbed the bag of rubber bands, and stuck them in my pocket.

Then, rather than walking back through the mall, I turned the engine on and my truck roared to life. I drove around to the other side of the mall, toward the closet entrance to Julie’s store. My clothespin pegged breasts bobbed, occasionally striking the steering wheel as I navigated the parking lot. This sent additional twinges through my body and by the time I parked and headed back into the mall, my pussy was almost ready to pop again.

I glanced at my watch, quickening my pace as I hurried back to the jewelry store. This just made things worse, since I could feel the quickening between my legs. Had I been wearing a skirt and my butterfly clitoral vibrator, I would have been against a wall gasping as the orgasms washed through me. Just to keep from orgasming, I slowed down, trying to maintain my composure. As it was I was shaking in desperation, ignoring the strange looks I was getting as I stumbled to a halt in front of the small jewelry store.

Julie was standing at the front, an annoyed look on her face. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her fingers.

“Get your ass in here. You’re late.” I glanced down at my watch. Two minutes late. Damn.

I stepped into the small store and followed Julie to the very back. The place was still deserted and she stopped at the small cash register table and gave me a contemptuous look.
“Well?” she demanded.

I looked at her blankly. “Well what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your tits. Why are they covered?”

I swallowed hard. I quickly removed the clothespins, sending another surge to the already tested spot between my legs, then yanked up my shirt. My breasts seemed to pop out, the nipples hard, tender, and throbbing, and I quickly reattached both clothespins in an effort to please Julie.



“That’s better” she said, giving me a small smile. “Now we have to deal with your tardiness.” She motioned toward a small door at the back of the store. “Go in there and strip naked.”

I opened the small door and found myself in the storage and office section of the store. It was pretty small. There was a small restroom in one corner, a pile of cleaning supplies, and shelves full of small boxes. Along one wall was a tiny desk with a computer and desk, cork and marker boards hung above it with all the typical legalese documents the state requires. I moved to a clear spot as the door shut behind me leaving me alone.

I stripped. What else would I have done? My shirt was easy to get off, despite the wiggling of the clothespins and I draped it over the chair. I took off my high heels and then shucked out of my jeans. I noticed that the crotch of my pants was soaked and only the dark color of the denim had hidden it. My thighs were soaked and I located a roll of paper towels, wiping off some of my excess juices.

Julie burst in as I was cleaning up, startling me. In her hand she held a thin plastic ruler and her eyes sparkled as she stared at me, enjoying my nudity and discomfort. She snapped her finger and I dropped the sodden paper towel in the trash and moved toward her.

“Bend over the chair, Breanne” Julie ordered, swishing the ruler back and forth. I hastened to comply. Trembling, I leaned over the back of the chair, feeling the top of the back support push into my belly. My hands tightened around the arm rests and I spread my legs as Julie moved behind me.

She hit me hard. I wasn’t expecting it. My whole body rocked forward, the clothespins dangling beneath me, shaking from the impact. My breasts jiggled as well and I felt a line of fire across both butt cheeks. I let out a sharp hiss, head coming up as my fingers tightened on the chair. To be honest, it wasn’t that bad. It just stung. A lot. But no matter how bad it stung, the heat combined with what was going on in my pussy, not to mention the throbbing of my breasts. After the tenth stroke I broke down, one hand going to my pussy.

“Please? Please can I cum?” I begged her.

This must have been a surprise. “You are a pain slut!” she exclaimed. “Go ahead and cum, but I’m not done with your ass yet.”

My fingers found my clit just as another stroke landed on my rear. It didn’t matter. Within seconds my fingers managed to bring me to another earth shattering orgasm and the stinging heat in my bottom only fueled that fire. I let out a muted cry, shuddered, and then my hips wildly thrust against my fingers, ramming against the digits. Just as I was at the peak, Julie sent her worst stroke against my bottom and I arched my back, my head coming up. She moved quickly and the ruler suddenly was in front of me, light but firm taps across my breasts. The clothespin jerked wildly and then she smacked them off my nipples. My orgasm went from quick to extended and I stood there shaking, letting the waves wash through me.

Then I sort of melted, or collapsed depending on how you want to describe it. I folded in half and crumpled to the floor, exhausted, shivering from the endorphins and adrenaline. My breasts and rear end hurt, but it was moderated by the incredible pleasure flooding through me from my pussy. Julie looked down at me in curiosity.

A beeping sound from a small chime on the wall caused Julie to go back into the store, leaving me alone. I heard voices and after a bit the rattle of the cash register tray. Slowly, I got to my feet, grabbed another paper towel, and tried to wipe away some of the excess fluid of my orgasm. I was just finishing when there was another beeping sound and Julie came back into the office.
“Where are those rubber bands?” Julie asked, inclining her head toward my still extended nipples. I went to my jeans and extracted the small plastic bag I kept my elastic nipple clamps in. I held them up.

To my astonishment, she pulled her shirt and bra up, exposing two rather delectable breasts. I had been right about the tips being pierced. Both nipples were perforated by two large silver barbells. They looked awesome but I had no doubt they had hurt a lot when pierced. I fished out two bands and held them out to her.

“No. You put them on me” she said. I nodded. I stopped to consider things for a moment. With her piercings in place, the band would have to go behind the piercing, much farther back than my own rubber bands were seated. I would also have to stretch them farther, making one edge bite into her skin quite a bit in order to get it around the other side of the barbell. Carefully, I lifted my hand to her left breast and began threading one side of the barbell through the elastic. Then I stretched it wide, allowing it to slip over the other side of the piercing. When it snapped into place Julie let out a hissing sound and closed her eyes. I could see the elastic tightly circling her nipple just behind the piercing. It couldn’t have been comfortable.

Then I did the left breast. Same process. It went just as quick, but I could tell that both bands were very uncomfortable. Julie looked down at her chest and fingered both nipples for a bit. Then she tugged her bra and shirt back down. Now the bumps on her chest were even more pronounced, the thin material of the bra cups doing little to hide the distended tips of her breasts. Julie began unbuttoning her capris, shoving them and her panties down to her knees. A trimmed patch of black hair showed between her legs and then she sat down in the chair.
“Get your tongue in there, now” she said, pointing to her pussy. I hesitated for just a moment. Then I knelt down in front of her, put my hands upon her knees, pushed her a little farther, and took my first sweet lick.

I’m no stranger to giving girls oral sex. In some ways, it’s nicer than doing guys. I concentrated on her clit and it didn’t take long. I pushed two fingers into her as my tongue darted along her more sensitive parts and in moments she was gasping, lifting her ass out of the seat, her fingers pinching at her pierced and elastic clamped tits. Then she came, letting out a squirt that splattered across my face and chest.

I kept up my ministrations, only slowing just a bit to give her time to recover. I fully expected to keep going, but she reached down, grabbed my wrist, and pushed me away. I sat back on my heels, my face covered in a sheen of her juices and watched as she sat up, a look of utter satisfaction on her face.

“Well that was nice” she said, smiling. I returned the expression and she stood up, pulling her capris and panties back into place. When everything was settled, she turned back toward me. “You still horny?” she asked.

I nodded. To be honest, it was only a little bit, but I still had the ben wa balls inside me and they were still moving with every little motion I made. Julie stepped up to me, wrapping her arms around my body. I could smell her perfume, something fruity with a touch of vanilla, not to mention the musky scent of sexual satisfaction. I hugged her back, then felt her hands on my hips.

She then started moving me, like a dancer, or a doll. She made me wiggle my hips, her hands guiding me in circles. My bottom swayed, my loins rolled, and most importantly, the ben wa balls moved dramatically, ringing and churning inside me insanely. It was the most concentrated sensation I’ve ever felt while wearing ben wa balls. It was like pushing the accelerator on a car. Zero to sixty baby!

Then she let go. I was trembling, gasping, ready for the final push. I expected the ruler again, but she turned, grabbed my jeans and held them out to me.

“Put these on” she ordered. I took them, wondering what was happening. I tugged my tight denim back over my limbs while Julie grabbed my high heels from the desk where I had placed them. Then, once I was back in my pants, she handed them to me. I stepped into them, then lifted each foot up so I could buckle them on. Then Julie was standing directly in front of me, both hands clutching a clothespin. She lifted them up to my breasts and I put my hands behind my back, thrusting my bosom forward as I arched my back.

The pegs closed down on my bare tips, crushing them softly and I let out a whimper of need and desire. My pussy tingled, the muscles trembling in little spasms as my hips continued to sway on their own, trying to replicate the orgasm inducing dance directed by Julie. My nipples throbbed as well, the elastic bands and wooden clothespin creating a sort of energy that flowed through me right down to my clit.

“Okay, you can go now.” Julie stepped back from me and nodded.

“Excuse me?” I said, somewhat surprised. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to cum again.

“Go. Leave. Exit. Vaya con dios. Adios. Saionara. Whatever. Get out of my store.” Julie’s voice was rather hard and I nodded in shocked surprise. I reached out to grab my tee shirt from the desk but her hand caught my wrist.

“I’m keeping that. You can come back for it tomorrow if you want it” she said tightly.

Realization exploded through me and the thought of me walking through the mall back to my truck with no shirt on and clothespins dangling from my nipples was almost enough to send me over the edge. She pulled me through the small office door and back out into the store, leaving me stumbling along the edge of utter humiliation and orgasm. I stood there for a moment, trembling and she reached out and grabbed a small toothed hair clip from a rack.

“The moment you get back to your car, unbutton your jeans and pull them down as well as your panties. Put this on your clit. Drive home that way. Got it? I want it back tomorrow.” Julie handed me the little clip. I felt another powerful surge between my legs.

Then she pushed me to the store exit.

There were people everywhere! Ok, it wasn’t packed, it wasn’t even busy, but between the venders and the few customers I would never make it. Julie didn’t even hesitate but shoved me out of the store. I clutched my arms to my chest, trying to hide my breasts, but the clothespins interfered with that.

Then Julie spoke in a voice loud enough to attract the attention of every single person within a thirty yard radius.

“Get out of my store. We don’t serve customers not wearing a shirt!” Julie said loudly. As at least a dozen faces turned to stare, I gave her a shocked look.

Then I ran.

Clothespins bobbed painfully. Ben wa balls rolled violently. People were staring at me, shocked expressions on their faces. I ran past six or seven stores to the entrance and ran out into the parking lot. I fished my truck key out of my pocket as I ran, my eyes blurring with tears and then I was at my truck, opening it, jumping in. I turned and looked. No one was following me.
My body was right on the verge and I let out a tiny sob as I unbuttoned my jeans. I tugged them and my panties down over my ass. I had intended just to pull them down to mid thigh, but I couldn’t spread my legs. In the end, I had to push them down to my knees. I was soaking the vinyl seat of my truck. I lifted the small hair clip and put it on my clit. It bit tightly and I wiggled it back and forth just for a second.

Then I exploded.

When I had calmed down enough I turned on the truck, put it into gear and headed away. Just in time too. I saw the security truck heading toward my section of the parking lot. I beelined the other way and managed to escape.

Maybe some people saw me on my way home, especially since I didn’t pull over to put on my bra and regular tee shirt until I found a quiet spot. Once the clothespins were off and my shirt back on, I felt a little more secure, though my jeans were still around my thighs, my ben wa balls resting quietly in my pussy, while the hair clip chewed gently on my clit.

Well, now that I’ve written this up, I’ve got a couple of things to do. First, I’ve got to go get dressed. Then I’ve got to get that hair clip back to Julie and pick up my tee shirt. I think I’ll wear a skirt, no panties, a tee shirt, and my clothespins…

Next Assignment: (Assigned by Master Mark) Breanne, you are to take your ben wa balls, your duck billed nipple clamps, high heels, and duster to your stripping spot one evening this week. You will strip at the front of your vehicle, and then put on the high heels, insert the ben wa balls, and then attach the clamps, followed by putting on your duster. You will then drive to a mega adult video and novelty store. Upon entering, you will approach the clerk. If it is a woman, you will leave and go to a different store. If it is a man, you will politely ask if you can browse naked. If the answer is no, find another store and repeat. If the answer is yes, then remove your duster and hand it to the clerk. You will then walk every aisle and look at every item on the shelves, including videos and magazines. You will then browse the sex toys. Purchase one new sex toy for your use. No matter what the toy is, you must use it immediately after you get back in your vehicle.

Oh my...

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Next Assignment 06/15/10


Hey everyone! Well, I finally submitted my novella and I hope you liked it! I know, it got long, but I'm hoping it was interesting enough to keep your attention. That whole day was so long. I hate to admit this, but a couple of times while writing, I actually put in my vibe and even got out my nipple clamps, just so I could get back in the mindset of that Sunday. I know, strange right? I guess that would sort of be like Stephen King killing someone gruesomely to get back into the "mindset" for his latest book. Weird.

Anyway, things have started to slow down here for me. That last assignment's write up is done. I've gotten the fields planted. The animal pregnancies are down to manageable levels, and it's frickin hot. Which means that I'll be indoors during the worst heat of the day. That will give me more time to do assignments! Ah...summer.

So what's next you ask? Well, I'm glad you did. I was chatting with a reader/fan online and he wanted to go ahead and give me an assignment. He didn't want me to use his name, but here is what he tasked me with:

Assigned by Anonymous: You will dress in tight jeans, no panties, high heels, and a tee shirt. Do not wear a bra. You will drive to the nearest mall and lift your shirt. Put one rubber band clamp over each nipple. Pull your shirt back down. Take two clothespins and put them on your nipples, through the tee shirt. You will then pull down your jeans and insert your ben wa balls. Get your clothes back in place. You will go into the mall and walk half of the circumference, then return to your vehicle. If a clothespin falls off at any time, you will put the clothespin back on immediately.


Wow. Isn't that cool? I'm getting shivers just thinking about it! I can't wait to go do this. In fact... I might go do it today! We'll see...

Anyway, I want everyone to go read my novella, check out the redesigned Breanne Website, and let me know what you think! Then you need to go to Michael's Stories and read "The Trip", which is all about my adventures in Chicago! Go go go!

Monday, June 14, 2010

Breaking My Record - A Novella By Breanne


This Week’s Assignment: (Assigned by Master Stone) You mention that your current record for the most number of orgasms in one day is 18. You will arrange a day to spend with your former Mistress Kari and ask her to force you to break your record. She can use any means she desires to get you to that point.

To find out what happened...

Thursday, June 3, 2010

A Note from Breanne


Hey everyone! Wow! So much is going on! Still terribly busy here and things have just been crazy. Worse, the whole story of last Sunday's little assignment has taken on epic proportions. It's gotten so long that Michael doesn't even want to post it here on the blog and will put it up for free on the website. He's also editing it for me as I write it. Would you believe I'm not even done yet? I'm just a bit over half way. It's crazy. But Micheal is making it into a real story! It's been a lot of fun. Of course, trying to cram writing in along with all the other stuff I've been doing, as well as reading the new novel starring me, and you can imagine what my life is like!

How about "The Trip"? Isn't it cool? I loved the first chapter, especially the idea of the ride in the Camaro! How cool is that? Haven't read it yet? Well you can. The first chapter is posted at the website and there is a link in the sidebar, so go find out about my trip to Chicago!

Let's see...anything else? Not really. I'll let everyone know when we get the next assignment posted, and of course, if you have a suggestion, let me know. You can post a comment here or email me at breanne@michaelalexanderstories.com! My love to everyone!
Breanne

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

The Trip - A New Serial Novel!

I have finally finished my latest serial novel staring Breanne! It will be sold as a serial while we finish getting the VIP Lounge up and running. Chapter One is absolutely free! If the synopsis below doesn't get you going, I guarantee that getting another dose of Breanne certainly will!

Breanne travels to the Windy City to meet with an online dom who only has her best interest in mind as he inflicts a weekend's worth of torture on her young and nubile body. How long can Breanne stand the torments and will the introduction of another young girl who wants to follow in Bre's footsteps be a hinderance, or a blessing? Read Chapter One and dive into the Michael Alexander's latest creation! M/f+, BDSM, Consensual, Serious, Exhibition, Humiliation, Spanking, Teen

She stared out the small window, watching with fascination the various wisps of cloud that floated thousands of feet below, the white stutters of vapor that crossed the endless geometric squares of corn and wheat fields below. It was her first time on an airplane and she had spent nearly all of it staring downward, fascinated with the vista. Part of her enthrallment was due to the incessantly changing landscape, the tiny houses, the roads, even the sunlit flashes of blue lakes, but another part was to ignore the same sort of fascination the man in the seat beside her tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to hide. But unlike Breanne, he wasn’t staring out the window.

She wasn’t exactly surprised by the attention. The halter top she was wearing was a tad bit too small, with a plunging neckline, and the smooth curve of her young breasts swelled the cotton material in alluring ways. More than a bit of her taut belly showed, the silver dangle piercing at the middle serving to pull eyes in, which then could not fail to notice the loose flared but very short skirt that seemed to barely cover her bottom and required almost constant attention not to expose more as she sat in her seat. Her feet were clad in high heels, the bare toes exposed. All in all, she expected to be watched with as much interest as she had for the rolling scenery below.
Ready to read the rest? Click here!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Website Redesign and News


I have hired a company to take over the web design requirements so that I no longer have to spend hours learning how to build websites. Instead, I can focus on writing, which is what I think everyone would rather me do. The good news is that we've got a lot coming and it won't take so long.

First of all, the latest Breanne novel "The Trip" is ready for publishing! I'm very excited. We will be offering the entire story as a serial novel, with two chapters coming every two weeks, or you will be able to purchase chapters individually.

Second, the VIP Lounge is now under construction! There are five new short stories, taking us back to favorite characters like Kat and Angie, but also introducing new ones who will blow your mind away! Breanne's daily assignments archive will be relocated to the VIP Lounge, as will all of her other writings. Her latest assignments will continue to be posted here at the blog. We will also be adding new features for the website, like a quarterly newsletter, new stories every so often, and eventually the CYOD story, which is about three quarters of the way finished.

I still have a lot of work to do and I hope that you are enjoying diving into the world of Michael Alexander!

Story Review: Pay Any Price by T.M. Goode

Holy Crap. What a climax! The tension…I’m almost speechless. Give me just a moment to get a little better control and we’ll go ahead and analyze “Pay Any Price” by T.M. Goode, recently posted at the BDSM Library

Okay, I’m ready now. I had to take a breather. “Pay Any Price” is another incredible tale by T. M. Goode who takes us on a very short rollercoaster ride into sexual nirvana. Let me explain why.

Yeah, its kinda like this, but so much better.

Our tale begins with meeting Stephen Underwood, whose description in the story is rather non-existent, consistent with author T.M. Goode’s ability to use what I term “anti-descriptions” in order to invoke a sense of character or scene by describing everything else BUT them. In “Pay Any Price”, Mr. Goode uses a variety of descriptions about Underwood’s relationship with his step-daughter Morgan, his relatively well maintained residence, and even a home office, all of which paints a nice picture of average suburbanite normality without actually describing Underwood.

This might be Morgan, except for the part about being naked, at least before she is kidnapped.

Morgan it seems is the perfect step-child, beautiful, talented, bright, helpful, kind, and even cooks dinner every night. She is also an innocent. After a bit of convenience explanation about the mother dying of a brain aneurysm which is tied in nicely as a physical comparison between mother and daughter, Underwood finds no dinner prepared, Morgan missing, and a mysterious envelope on his kitchen table.

He opens the package to find a DVD, a rewritable one, and proceeds to discover that Morgan has been kidnapped and sexually abused. The video is without audio, a caveat that seemed a little contrived, but becomes clear at the end of the story. Morgan is excruciatingly bound to a chair sans seat, her private school clothes arranged purposefully for the video, which reveals that her nipples and clitoral hood have been pierced, her sex is being repeatedly and constantly penetrated by a large rubber dildo mounted to a motor, and that electrical wires have been attached to the piercings.

I could swing with electrifying this.


An unknown assailant who is also the cameraman demonstrates how Morgan reacts to the electrical torments, and then even cruelly stimulates the poor girl’s clit directly with a battery operated toothbrush, forcing her into a pain riddled orgasm. A few other additional accessories are inflicted upon Morgan followed by a video taped note on a piece of cardboard asking for a ransom of one hundred thousand.

The note also offers to provide a tape including audio, for an additional ten grand. Heh heh... wait... is there like a sequel offered too?

Through this whole process, Underwood has been rather quiet. He has watched the video in comparative silence, with little emotional response. The clinical but sexually tense descriptions of Morgan’s torment, along with very passionate descriptions of her emotional and physical state is the direct opposite of how the author relates Underwood’s reaction to what he is seeing. In fact, the whole original sense of Underwood carries through the entire story, giving you the impression that he would be shocked, horrified, and maybe even angry about what is happening for this girl that he has accepted, cared for, and loved like his own flesh and blood.

And then we are slammed with must be the largest sledgehammer ever used in the history of literature to disabuse a reader of a previously held notion. Underwood’s reaction to the ransom demand is not that of a normal average suburbanite step-father, but of a sexually repressed incest accepting sadist who wants to turn his sixteen year old daughter into a sex slave.

Huh? WTF? Wow. I didn’t see that coming.

To be honest, it was such a dramatic change from the previously painted character that it floored me and actually angered me. I was so on this guy’s side up to that point. If a child I was responsible for had been kidnapped and sexually abused, I’d be ready to go hunt someone down and put a bullet through their head. But to agree to pay the ransom (and probably the extra ten grand for the DVD special) just so that you can bring her back and then turn her into a sex slave for yourself? That just crosses so many boundaries that I have trouble dealing with it.

While this isn’t the only incongruity in the story, it is the most glaring, and possibly the one of the most damaging to the story as a whole. It means that there are no good guys, just bad guys and the victim. I would even have preferred the story to end without a resolution, so we would never know what Stephen Underwood does about his kidnapped daughter. It just left a bad taste in my mouth.

T.M. Goode makes it clear in an author’s note that he intends to serialize the story, producing another chapter at a later point. As much as I hate serials, this first installment does exactly what a serial is supposed to do. It is a self-contained story, with a sub-plot, story arc, climax, and even a cliff-hanger, all designed to get us to come back and read part two. In essence, if you’re going to write serial novels, then this is the way to do it. I still feel that this story could stand on its own even if the author never writes another word of it. And that’s the way a serial should be.

Everything else is top notch. The descriptions are vivid and alluring. The action is rapid, exciting, and intense. You feel as if you are right there, watching Morgan’s torment, yet sensing Underwood’s dismay at seeing his step-daughter in this predicament. It’s masterful. In fact, their is something magical that happens while we witness Morgan's video debut. A beautiful, perfect, sweet, wonderful, innocent girl on the cusp of womanhood is molested and exposed to the darkest side of humanity's perversions. This is fucking awesome.

Oddly enough, one of the other reviewers of this story complained about the believability factor, stating that it was unlikely a kidnapper would harm their victim until AFTER they got the money. I disagree, not with their assumption, but what constitutes harm in this story. Obviously Morgan is still alive and relatively undamaged (despite all the piercings, penetrations, and forced orgasms) and I can’t quite imagine a more potent motivator to encourage a parent, or even a step-parent, to respond as quickly as possible to the ransom demand. I suppose it could be considered unbelievable since kidnapping for money is such a bad idea in the United States. The FBI gets involved relatively quickly, and it’s hard to get your money without someone seeing you. Ransom kidnappers are generally caught. But I don’t think that’s what the other reviewer was referring too.

I almost hope that the author DOESN’T continue this story, because I have no desire to see Underwood become the villain, preferring the mysterious stranger who videotapes his ransom demands and mechanically rapes an innocent perfect sixteen year old girl. I really don’t want to read about the mental trauma that being rescued from her abductor, only to be subjected to similar treatment from her step-father, will do to her. I’d rather have Underwood decide to pay the ransom, rescue his daughter, but while he’s scrounging the money (who has a hundred thousand sitting around?) he receives another video of even more horribly awesome sexual torments being inflicted upon his little girl, and by proxy, him! It would be totally cool if the abductor was actually fucking with both Morgan AND Underwood. Maybe it’s a former employee Underwood fired, or a perverted neighbor whose hedges Underwood trimmed without permission. Who knows? But it just seems so WRONG for Underwood to turn on Morgan.

This should just go on for ever.

But despite the way it ended, and the apparent way any sequel will head down, “Pay Any Price” was basically a fantastic, fun filled, little dip into the perverted psyche of the corruption of innocence. Wait. Did I say corruption? This isn't corruption. It's the RAPE of innocence, of taking something pure and defiling it. So in the end, I recommend reading "Pay Any Price". As for Morgan? Well, I hope that she remains a captive for as long as possible, constantly bound, tormented, assaulted, electrified, hurt, and forced to cum as many times as humanly possible.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Weekly Assignment 05-24-2010

Monday, May 24, 2010

You will get out the rope with knots you used several weeks ago. Take a bottle of lemon juice and a bottle of Tabasco sauce and randomly soak ten knots for each fluid. Then tie the rope at belly button height and use the ratchet puller to tighten it. Get your pad lock and put the key on the wall above where you’ve tied the rope. Strip naked and put on your collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs. Attach your alligator nipple clamps to your nipples. Lock your wrist cuffs to the collar with the padlock. Straddle the rope and proceed to walk across the barn with the rope between your legs. When you get the key, you can unlock yourself and get off the rope.


This Daily Assignment has been moved to Michael Alexander Stories: VIP Lounge! Check out the entire archive of Breanne's Daily Assignments, in chronological order at the VIP LOUNGE!

Monday, May 17, 2010

Breanne's Assignment 05-17-2010

Monday, May 17, 2010

Next Assignment:
(Assigned by Master Brandon) You will get out the rope with knots you used several weeks ago. Take a bottle lemon juice and a bottle of Tabasco sauce and randomly soak ten knots for each fluid. Then tie the rope at belly button height and use the ratchet puller to tighten it. Get your pad lock and put the key on the wall above where you’ve tied the rope. Strip naked and put on your collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs. Lock your wrist cuffs to the collar with the padlock. Straddle the rope and proceed to walk across the barn with the rope between your legs. When you get the key, you can unlock yourself and get off the rope.

Last Week’s Assignment: (Assigned by Mistress Ellen) Find four guys who have never seen you naked and do not know you and ask them to shave your pussy. Use whatever means necessary to coerce them into cooperating.

From the first moment I had a pretty good idea what this assignment was about, and how I was going to do it. I mean it was fairly obvious from the beginning that Mistress Ellen intended me to get gangbanged. I think the whole shaving thing was just a ruse to get me in one place with four guys, naked, with my legs spread. But regardless of ulterior motives, or me seeing them, it was still an order, and one that I was anticipating with a great deal of excitement.

The very first thing I did from the moment I got this assignment was too stop shaving. Normally I keep myself shaved bare. I like it better being shaved. It feels nice. Guys like it and are much more inclined to use their mouth. It’s sexy. And it just makes me feel good. So last week I just trimmed. It didn’t take long to get a pretty decent patch of fur that I was DYING to get rid of. Sunday afternoon seemed like the perfect time, so I got in my truck with the appropriate gear and headed out to my destination.

First though I stopped and changed. This was done expediently at the front of my truck on a quiet back road near my farm. I stripped out my boots, socks, jean shorts, panties, tee shirt, and bra, and slithered into a soft black dress with a really low cut neckline and a really high cut hemline. To be honest, I hadn’t worn that dress in years. It still looked good though. Farm work is probably the best diet you can be on.

So off I went to my destination, which was a sports bar/restaurant that’s known for their barbecue wings. I hope I’m not being too specific here. I knew what I was looking for: four or five guys in a group, having dinner or a beer, no girls with them, and who all looked clean and neat. It was a tough list of requirements, but I figured I could meet them. I already had picked a hotel nearby and I even went a head and checked out a room. It cost me forty bucks, but it worked out.

Once I got to the restaurant I went to the bar and ordered a diet coke. That began what ended up being a two hour wait. Oh sure, I saw a couple of possible groups. But in each case there was just something that didn’t sit right with me. Finally the right group of guys came in. They looked like they were in college, maybe even working on graduate degrees. They ordered their food, got some beer and were about halfway through when I finally summoned the courage to approach their table.

The approach was perfect, as was my greeting, and it got me what I was looking for: an extra seat at the table. I guess it helped that my breasts were practically falling out of my dress. Or more accurately, my dress was falling off my breasts. We chatted for a bit, I learned their names and then I asked them if they would be willing to help me out with a bit of a problem.

There was instant accommodation, without even knowing what my problem was! I love chivalry. Finally Greg (who was kind of the leader) asked what I needed. I licked my lips and said it very clearly.

“I was wondering if you four guys would be willing to come back with me to my hotel room and shave my pussy for me.”

I’m getting really used to surprised looks. Doesn’t this stuff happen to anyone? Am I like the only slut in the world? You’d think I asked them all to strip naked in the parking lot and cut off their testicles while dancing to the Macarena! It took a few minutes to reassure them I was on the level and that I had a room. It finally took me grabbing Greg and Ed’s hands, pulling them to my lap, and slipping them up under my dress. I was of course already wet and after a quick finger fucking and then me doing a little finger sucking, they finished their meal, paid the bill, and we split up and headed in different cars to my hotel room.

Since we formed a caravan we didn’t loose anyone, and besides, I had given the entire cadre my room number. We all went in laughing, teasing, and I was being passed around for kisses and groping like a bag of chips. Eventually I ended up on the bed, on my knees, while Chuck and Ed sat in the chairs by the window, Greg laid down next to me, and Caleb was laying out my shaving kit.

I had brought my razor, my cream, and there were plenty of towels and washcloths. Caleb very thoughtfully ran the water warm and I proceeded to perform a very professional strip tease for my willing audience. Shortly I was naked, laying spread eagled on the bed, while Greg and Caleb moved down to do the mowing.

Damn. That was crude, wasn’t it? It wasn’t the best shave I’ve ever had, nor the closest, but they got the job done and I wasn’t even nicked or bleeding when they finished. I was cleaned, patted dry, and then I was reaching for belt buckles and zippers. I had Greg’s cock in my mouth when I felt another behind me. Since I had already poured out a handful of condoms onto the table, evidently the guys had gotten the message pretty clearly. In moments I was being double fucked, my mouth wide open, wrapped around cock.

I’d give you a step by step recounting, except for the fact that until the end, it was very vanilla. Each of the guys screwed my brains out, marveling in the fact that I kept going, taking each of them in turn. I know that all of them came at least twice and I’m pretty sure that a few of them came more than that. After two or so hours I ended up with only Greg and Chuck remaining behind to continue our evening of wild sex.

Then to my astonishment, I felt something a bit different. Looking down I saw Chuck pushing the handle of my hairbrush up into my pussy. It felt incredible. Thick, strong, hard, unyielding. So very different from cock. He rammed it into me hard and it changed everything. I screamed out my pleasure and I guess they realized that I was a bit of deviant masochist.

Next thing I knew my nipples were being pinched hard, my breasts were slapped, my rear end was being smacked, and I was cumming. I think my final orgasm came when one of them unplugged the lamp and actually stuck the electric cord into my pussy. Oh, don’t worry, there wasn’t any electricity in it, but it felt incredible. Something new for my list too! I came. Hard. Finally I lay gasping while Chuck and Greg finished up, screwing the pretty slut silly.

I took two showers then. First with Chuck and then with Greg. Both were fun and it mostly involved talking. A lot of it was planning our next gangbang, but I managed to avoid anything specific in the way of committing to something. In the end I gave them both my email address and sent them on their way.

Clean up and packing was easy. I really didn’t have anything. I plugged the lamp back in, got dressed in my jean shorts and tee shirt and dropped the keys off at the front desk. Then I headed for home.

So this week I have to look forward to that damn rope trick Master Brandon. I’m planning on doing it on Thursday, but we’ll see. Worse, I completely lost my bid to moderate the assignment to make it a bit easier on my poor pussy. I even asked another dom what he thought about the whole thing and he sided with Master Brandon! Can you believe that?

So until next week! See ya!

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

We've been Sick


One of the major problems with trying to write every day, whether it's Daily Assignments or vignettes, or working on the Choose Your Own Destiny novel, is that you have to be in a certain condition to write. When you're feeling like crap, sneezing, blowing your nose, or dealing with migraines, it's difficult to set your mind to things like sex scenes. And to be honest, both myself and Breanne have been suffering from spring time colds that have knocked us both to our knees. Granted, I think mine has developed into a form of mild bronchitis that has my wife insisting I see a doctor, but its made writing almost untenable.

Breanne is also dealing with another problem: lack of time. Evidently she didn't consider the fact that farmers get a bit busier during the spring. Now that she's recovered, she has politely asked me if she could cut back a bit and maybe do one assignment a week until things calm down. Being a decent boss, I told her to do as many as she can, but not to fret about it either. So hopefully we will have a Breanne Assignment shortly. To be honest, I'm still curious to see how her last assignment played out.

Have you checked out the redesigned website yet? It looks much cooler and I've made some pretty major changes to the layout and look. The only story still missing from the Free Archive is "The Silver Locke." I could go ahead and get it on, but to be honest I'm in the process of editing it, chapter by chapter, fixing errors and updating some of the writing so it doesn't sound like a four year old with a Speak and Say toy wrote it with crayons.

We're also withing a month of opening the VIP Lounge. I've got one new novel "The Trip", as well as a bunch of new short stories that should be worth the price of joining. At least I hope it will be worth it. We'll see. I hope to get the CYOD done soon as well, or at least if this bronchitis lets me!

So stay tuned. We're not dead. At least not yet!

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Daily Assignment 04-28-10


Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Today’s Assignment:
Proceed to your stripping spot with your bottom plug, a halter top, mini-skirt, and high heels. Change into the halter, mini-skirt, and heels. No panties or bra. You will then lubricate and insert the plug into your bottom. You will then find three different guys (individually) who you have never met before, and explain to them that you are a bad girl and need to be punished. Ask each of them to give you ten spanks on your bottom. You can barter sexual services in exchange for spankings. Also, remember Michael’s rule about being bare breasted when spanked.

Yesterday’s Assignment: (Assigned by Master Brandon) Self-Inflicted Pony. Go to your barn. Get two pieces of rope, two clothespins, a broom or shovel handle, and a weight. Tie one end of the stick to the wall at belly button height. Take the other piece of rope and tie it to the other end of the stick, and toss the rope over a beam in your barn. Tie the weight to it so that the stick points upward. Strip naked. Attach the clothespins to your nipples. Straddle the stick and move down to the end away from the wall. Your pussy should push the stick downward and lift the weight off the ground. You may use your hands to get into proper position. Once there stay in position for twenty minutes. Keep your hands clasped behind your head or behind your back.

Twenty minutes can seem like a really really long time. Especially when you’re stark naked and there is a thick wooden dowel between your legs.

It was about two o’clock yesterday when I gathered up all the supplied I would need for my assignment. Fortunately most of it was out in the barn. I added just one thing: a kitchen timer. It made sense since I wasn’t sure I was going to be able keep the time in my head. I moved everything I needed into the back right hand corner of the barn under the loft and proceeded to tie the shovel handle I scavenged to the back wall at just the right height. Actually, I tied it just a bit lower than belly button height and the reason was because I knew the whole thing would be better that way. It’s a question about angles. See, for this to work right, the shovel handle would need to be angled up towards me. That way the contact point would be farther forward.

Anyway, I got the rope tied to both ends of the shovel handle and then got out one of my dad’s old twenty five pound weights. I tied it on and in moments I had a very nice little self rigged wooden pony. To be honest, it looked awesome. As much as I crave riding these things you would have thought I would have done something like this before. Without me on it, the shovel handle was pointing upward at the cross beam at almost a forty five degree angle. The weight swayed slightly a feet above the ground. My heart was trembling in excitement and I was already very wet as I took off my clothes, leaving my pile of boots, socks, blue jeans, panties, shirt and bra on a bale of hay. Next I picked up my two clothespins, positioned them carefully on my breasts, and let them close. Ooohh…I love clothespins! I grabbed the timer and set it to twenty three minutes (a few extra to get on and settled!).

I stepped up to the pony and pushed down on it, watching as the weight rose up to almost my height. Gingerly I mounted it, just like I do with my horses, my hands pushing down on the shovel handle. Then, once I was in the correct position, I slowly decreased the pressure I was putting on the handle. I watched the weight drop a bit and then I felt the handle between my legs. Like I suspected, tilting the shovel handle moved the pressure point a bit further forward so that the wooden dowel pressed up right on my perineum. I shifted a little because with the angle, it also slipped just a bit into my pussy and I reached down and spread the petals.

Can you say soaked? I was wet and slippery almost from the moment I started. At first, I just felt the pressure. But after maybe a minute or two I started to feel a bit of discomfort. I’ve ridden real wooden ponies before and enough makeshift ones to know right off where I stand. I knew almost immediately that this one was only going to be uncomfortable. It wasn’t going to hurt. Not really. I think the problem was the nature of the beast. See, because one end was weighted and applying pressure upward, it didn’t matter if I was on tip toe or not. That meant that while I might be able to change the pressure point, I wasn’t going to be able to relieve the pressure. It’s the up and down movement of your slave’s body that makes “riding” the pony so much fun to watch. As her calves tremble in exhaustion, she has no option but to lower herself back down on the point, letting it dig into her pussy. Eventually she can’t even lift herself up and so she settles down, but begins to pump her hips, rocking back and forward in an effort to change the pressure point. This is why it’s called “riding” the pony. Frankly, it looks a lot like riding a real horse.

So I stood there and even found myself going up and down on tip toe a few times. It changed the pressure point. Juices began leaking downward along the shovel handle and it wasn’t long before I was sliding slightly. Whenever I rose up on point, the wooden dowel would slip deeper into my pussy and I would thrust my hips forward, desperate. It was tough to keep my hands behind my back. I kept looking down past the two clothespins dangling and jiggling from my tits and had to seriously ignore the desire to reach around to my clit and do a little frantic rubbing.

At about ten minutes I was starting to get sore. My crotch was aching and I was literally humping the pony in a desperate and pointless attempt to orgasm. I wish I had brought my cuffs with me, and maybe my collar. I could have attached my wrists to my neck and prevented what happened next. I couldn’t help myself. I brought my hands around. My left went to my breasts and started playing with the clothespins. The right went down to my crotch, found my clit, and began doing what really needed doing.

I think a minute or two later I was done. I cried out in orgasm, thrusting back and forth on the shovel handle. The weight on the end of the rope was jiggling and bouncing like crazy, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was the massive explosion I was experiencing. It was really awesome. It was very wet, very intense, and wild. All at the same time.

The pony didn’t really bother me that much during the last couple of minutes. The pressure was uncomfortable, yes. But due to the rush of adrenaline and endorphins flooding my brain, it was a mild discomfort. Maybe if the pony had been solidly mounted it would have been worse. In fact I know it would have been. When the timer dinged I pushed down on the wood, and stepped off. True, I was glad to be off the thing, but it wasn’t so bad.

In retrospect, I should have just tied the other end straight to the beam with none of this weight crap. Then it would have been a “true” wooden pony.

But hey, we learn from our mistakes, don’t we? And I still had a phenomenal orgasm, so I guess everything worked out for the best, right?

LOL. Somehow I have a feeling I’ll be doing this one again, but with a few key differences. Talk to ya tomorrow!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Website Redesign

Well, the latest version of the website, incorporating all the crap I've learned recently, is now up and running. I've even managed to get "Sigma Epsilon Xi" up and running on the Free Story Archive, so now all that's missing is "The Silver Locke". That's my next project. I'm still a little unhappy with some of the link colors and I'll work on that shortly. Please feel free to let me know what you think of the whole thing. I love constructive criticism.