Tales 12

Tales 11

Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

Tales NHSP 8

Challenge of Love

Tales Vol. 1

Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

The Silver Locke

Michael Alexander Stories

Breaking My Record - By Breanne Erickson

Part 6


Robert was suffering in front of me, and I would be lying if I said that it was worse for me.  The vibrating ring on the tip of his cock had him quivering.  He was standing practically at military attention, hands behind his back, outstretched cock so hard I could have hung a coat on it and not seen it droop.  As Kari helped me off the couch, I hoped that whatever was coming next would be a little easier on him.  My legs were wobbly.  You try spending almost an hour doing the splits while someone is shocking you into orgasmic ecstasy and see if YOU can stand!  I clung to Kari and she walked me around the coffee table until we were standing in front of her boy toy slave.

“Lay down on the floor, Robert.  On your back, hands beneath your head” she ordered.

Robert immediately complied.  Obviously his torment hadn’t left him wobbly.  Once again I was treated to his rippling muscles, his thick calves.  Of god it was awesome.  I love guys with muscular legs, especially calves. Robert wasn’t a runner, he was more of a weight lifter, but he must have been doing whatever leg lifts were necessary because there were these massive muscles moving under his skin.

I guess I need to quantify here for all of you guys who are suddenly feeling less than desirable.  Yes, Robert turns me on.  I mean his physique.  But I like all sorts of guys.  Just because I was lusting over Robert doesn’t mean that I’m always going to pick some burly weight pumping specimen.  I’ve had some pretty great screws with thin little nerds and I’m hardly about to give that up.  See, men are like jewelry: it’s all beautiful, you just need the right one for the right outfit!

Kari unceremoniously dumped me on the floor next to Robert, sort of without warning, which I didn’t think very nice, but I kept my mouth shut.  I resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, not knowing what my mistress had in mind.  I glanced up at her, my sex still moist, still wanting, hoping Kari would let me screw Robert.

“Bre, please take the vibrator ring off of Robert’s cock?” 

An excellent starting place, I thought.  The ring wasn’t exactly designed for vaginal penetration and would have hampered things if they were to proceed the way I wanted.  I quickly grasped Robert’s cock with my left hand while my right figured out how to get the thing turned off and pulled off.  Actually, it was really easy.  Evidently the band that was sitting just behind the head of his cock was actually rubber, and there was a bulge underneath where the vibrator was actually located.  I managed to get the whole thing off, and then with a few test squeezes, even found the embedded button.  Sweet.  Robert’s cock was standing straight up, like a flag pole, quite colorful at the tip.

I’m beginning to suspect that Robert had taken a rather serious dose of Viagra before my arrival.  It wouldn’t surprise me actually.  Kari is rather extreme and using a chemical enhancement of Robert’s usual sexual demeanor isn’t beyond her.  I didn’t ask, obviously, but in hind sight, that poor guy was rock hard for fourteen hours straight and was still pumping away when I finally left.  I hope she doesn’t do that often to him, because it’s medically unhealthy for him. 

Turning toward Kari, I held out the vibrating cock ring.  She took it without a word and deposited something different into my palm.  I stiffened slightly when I realized what she had given me.

“Coat him with it.  Every inch of his cock.  From tip to shaft.  And use only two fingers.”  Kari’s words were strong, as if she expected not a single word of protest.

And I wasn’t about to protest.  Hey, Robert is HER slave.  He CHOOSE this, and stays with her.  Swallowing hard, because I knew what he was about to experience, I quietly knelt beside him, unsnapped the cap, and squeezed out a generous dollop of cream onto my forefinger, and then began.  I started along the shaft, wanting to do his tip last.  Long strokes spread the white oily substance over his skin and before I had even done half of the circumference of his cock, he was gasping and trembling, his face bearing an expression of torment.  I hurried, moving faster, hoping not to prolong his suffering and I managed to get his cock completely smeared with only one more large squeeze of cream.  His cock was now bobbing up and down, jerking spasmodically as it reacted to the tingling coolness that quickly turned to unbearable heat.  I was so worried about Robert that I didn’t expect what was coming next.

Kari tapped me on the shoulder, getting my attention.  “Mount him.  Fuck his brains out.”

My eyes widened in realization.  This wasn’t a torture for Robert.  Oh yeah, sure, he wasn’t exactly feeling all sweet and comfortable, but he was just a prop, a tool, a DEVICE.  Quivering in a mixture of dread and excitement, I swung my leg over him, held myself above his trembling shaft, and lowered myself down.  The tip struck my sex and I immediately felt the cool tingle of the cream as it was transferred to the delicate and rather swollen flesh of my pussy.  Unfortunately, the tip of his cock slid upward through my petals, missing my hole, leaving a patina of white cream along my entire slit.  The head of his cock struck my clit as well and in seconds my entire sex was burning just like Robert’s cock.  I managed to get him in with a few rolls of my hips and a bit of up and down movement, and then I impaled myself, grinding down as my lower half exploded in sexual need, a chemically caused tingle, and a heat that almost seemed to set me on fire.

Lubrication is a very important part of sex.  Too little, and it’s not fun.  Too much, and it doesn’t really work properly either.  Fortunately, the human body, both male and female produces what it needs on a regular basis.  Guys put out a little, but girls do the most and it works pretty well, especially if there is the right stimulation to get the faucets going.  If not, well, there are a variety of different substances you can use, from KY Jelly, to honey.  I did an assignment one day where I used a variety of different lubes to see what was most effective.  Lots of fun.

I’ve used IcyHot before.  Actually I use a knock off brand that’s water based instead, which was lucky for Robert.  The real stuff is oil based and doesn’t come off easily.  My stuff, which is what Kari had given me, was a little weaker and not so extreme, though it still froze and burned like IcyHot.  Usually, when it has been used on me, it was either a punishment or a torture to up the ante.  It burns for a little bit, but it goes away after about ten minutes.  Trust me, it’s no worse than a figging.  I know.  Having ginger root up your ass can be much worse.

As I pumped and ground myself on Robert, the tingling sensation was the first to go, but not after ramping up my own sexual urges back near the top of the mountain.  If the climax of orgasm was the apex of mountain climbing, I was pretty damn close.  Robert was thrusting madly, bouncing underneath me so that I could concentrate on swirling my hips as he moved up and down.  It was incredible.  I was also putting out a lot of personal juice, which probably was pretty bad for Robert.  Not only did it reduce the friction inside me, but like I said, the stuff I put on his cock was water-based.  I’m sure that I was soaking him and no doubt the crack of his ass and balls were soaked, and probably burning as well.

But I didn’t think about that.  All I was thinking was up, down, shudder, oh god, up, down, again, ooooohhh yesssssss.   This went on for a bit and then Kari stopped my bouncing long enough to show me her a cream coated finger.  It danced in front of my eyes for a split second and then she was smearing it all over my nipples.  Back and forth.  Immediately it felt as if ice cubes had been pressed to my nubs.  I gasped, my areola puckering.  To be honest, it pushed me up the last little bit of my personal orgasmic mountain and I got to the peak, looked out over my world, and screamed in triumph. 

Okay, it wasn’t in triumph.  I cried out in pleasure as I had ANOTHER orgasm.  The fourteenth in fact.  This time I collapsed when it was over, my body shaking in a combination of heat and exhaustion.  Robert continued to pump, despite the fact that I lay like a wet noodle on top of him.  In fact, all my weight was on his body.  It felt nice and I was actually starting to doze off, which is saying something when your mattress is in the process of repeatedly running a seven inch muscle cream coated shaft through your pussy.

Kari tapped me on the shoulder, rousing me enough to look up at her with glazed eyes.  “Why don’t both of you go and shower.  We’ll have lunch when you’re done” she said.  Robert nodded and began pushing me up.  I helped him and got to my feet.  I was still shaky and I clung to him, letting him lead me toward the master bathroom.

Robert got the water started, towels laid out, and put out an assortment of trial sized bath soaps and stuff, to give me my choices.  I eschewed them all, preferring to help myself to Kari’s Dove cocoa butter soap.  I’m not finicky about my bath products, but still, it was nice Robert thought of that.  I spent the time getting out of my ankle and wrist cuffs, sitting down on the closed toilet cover.

He was still walking around the bathroom with his cock fully extended and I admit that I had every intention of cleaning him, getting on my knees, and sucking him until he exploded.  It was the least I could do, right?  When the water was ready, Robert held out his hand, pulled me up, and guided me into the glass encased shower.

It was easily big enough for two and Kari had installed one of those dual shower heads.  Robert had activated them both, which I didn’t know was possible, and we both luxuriated under the warm spray.  I felt the remnants of our freezing burning lubrication wash away from my body and I helped it along by using my fingers to gingerly clean between my petals.  Robert didn’t touch his cock, instead stepping back to let the spray clean him off.  I reached over to the shower caddy and got out the cocoa butter soap and managed to get it onto my chest, only to have Robert’s hand move to my body and began to massage and rub the soap in, turning me around and pushing me up against the wall so that he could work.

Have you ever gotten a massage in the shower?  With soap?  It’s awesome.  My back was aching and I hadn’t even known it until Robert found the knots and smoothed them out.   It was incredible.  His fingers played over my back, my sides, he even kneeled down, ignoring the hot spray of water, and did my legs.  Then he turned me around and did my front.  Disappointingly, he stayed away from my pussy and breasts, but I was still basking in the “oh god yes” mode that I couldn’t complain.  When he was done, he pulled me back into the spray and rinsed me.  I was clean, I was relaxed, and I felt renewed.  Sure, I wasn’t ready to have something put back inside me, but at least I was moving in that direction.

Then it was my turn.  I reached down to his cock, watching him stiffen as I poured a liberal amount of soap into my hand.  Quickly, yet as tenderly as possible, I began cleaning him, even soaping his balls and running my hands through his crotch.  He spread his legs wide and let me do it.  I ignored every other part of him.  I suppose I’m a bit sex-centric.  I wrapped my hands around his cock, pumped several times, enjoying the hard length, and then pushed him up against the wall, his back to the tile.

This time it was me who went down to their knees and I let just enough spray strike his shaft to wash it clean of the soap.  I opened my mouth, took him in, and tried to deep throat him.  It wasn’t easy of course, but I did it.  Robert is pretty long and big, which is something I’ve always noticed about Kari’s boy toys.  I wonder how she does it.  I mean seriously, when she’s in the process of selecting a new sex slave does she have this process where she turns to the guy and asks to see his dick, to see if he’s worth subjugating?  I’m trying very hard not to picture a line of guys at a bar, each with their pants down, trying to earn her attention.

I’ve been told that I’m pretty good at sucking cock.  I can actually make guys cum with just my mouth and hands and that actually is pretty good.  I made every effort with Robert as well, and I could tell that he was getting close.  I redoubled my efforts, eliciting a groan from him that only confirmed my suspicion that I was doing a damn good job.

And then he pulled away.

I glanced up, his eyes were closed, his face an inscrutable mask.  I still had his cock in my hand and I dipped my head again, wondering why he had yanked his dick out of my mouth.  He stopped me, his hands on my head.  Then he bent down, put his hands under my arms, and pulled me to my feet.

“Thank you, Bre.  That was wonderful” he said softly.

I blinked.  “But I’m not done yet!” 

“I know, Bre. But you have to stop.”

I frowned and I think I probably fumed too.  I wasn’t angry at Robert, but I admit I felt a surge toward Kari.  If Robert was mine I wouldn’t keep him from orgasming.  I’d make him pop as often as possible.  That’s what I would do. I HATE orgasm denial.  It’s just cruel.

I moved away from Robert, a mixture of hurt and anger running through me.  We finished up, doing our own hair and he didn’t touch me again, though what I wanted him to do was pin me up against the wall and use me.  I would have even been willing to let him have my ass if that would of resulted in his explosion.  In fact, I may have actually presented to him a bit, which in hindsight must have been pretty cruel.  Having me wave my pussy and well soaped ass around right in front of him, actually bumping his cock on occasion (deliberately), probably wasn’t very nice.

Robert turned the water off and grabbed one of the huge white fluffy towels and wrapped it around me.  We dried off, combed our hair, and then Robert got down on his knees again and began buckling the ankle cuffs around my legs.  With a sigh, I held out my wrists and he not only cuffed me, but actually clipped the little plastic buckle together, locking my hands together.  It was cute.  My collar came next and I tilted my head as he buckled it in place.


Would you believe his cock was STILL hard?  Definitely Viagra.  Or Cialis.  Or whatever.  He led me back out into the living room, pulling me forward by the arm.  Neither Sara or Kari where there, and Robert walked me toward the kitchen.  Exciting smells suddenly made my stomach rumble.  Kari was a decent cook, though I’m better.  When we lived together we swapped days for cooking and frankly my meals were always just a tad better done.  Kari made the comment once that my meals taste better because I cook them naked, while she wears clothes.  I’m not sure how that affects the taste of a meal, but whatever. 

In this case, Kari had managed a fairly impressive beef fajita dish with fresh guacamole and grated cheddar cheese with sautéed onions and red bell peppers.  Yummy.  I sat down across from Sara and we all chatted like we were real friends and not sexual partners.  It was… homey.  Of course, we all ignored the fact that both Robert and I were buck naked, while Sara and Kari were still dressed in their respective outfits and I admit I kept glancing at Kari’s bare breasts and hips.  It was quite distracting.

What did we talk about?  Oh, Sara told us about some of her recent cases, no details or names of course, but some funny anecdotes that had me laughing hard, my breasts bouncing up and down.  Kari told us about a new client who wanted to decorate in lizards.  Lizard wall paper, lizard lamps, lizard everything.  She was going nuts trying to locate lizard crap to put in his house.  Talk about weird fetishes.

Oh.  I guess people who live in glass houses….  Where was I?  Oh yeah, weird fetishes.  When Kari was done and started to pile things on the platter, she turned to Robert and asked him to get me seated.  He stood, taking my hand, and I followed him to the dining room.  Part of me was like “oh god, not again”, but part of me was ready.  The shower and the slight break from sex had been restorative and I felt that, while not actually ready, I could handle just about anything they did to me.

Robert had left a small bottle of lubricant on the hutch in the dining room.  Don’t worry, it wasn’t icy hot or even my generic water based version.  This bottle clearly said KY on it and he quickly managed to douse both the anal probe and the vaginal phallus with the clear fluid.  I moved without being asked, straddling the stool and lowering myself down until I felt the vaginal rod touch me.  It was a bit of work to get it in.  I had to literally prepare myself, working it in slowly due to a bit of tenderness.  Lets be honest, after being fucked up, down, and practically every which way, taking a nine inch tall, three inch wide robotic multi-jointed electrically operated vibrating dildo is no easy thing.  Oh, and don’t forget that while I was squirming around there was a thin four inch vibe sliding into my ass.

Once I got seated, I put my knees up on the padded leg rests and Robert quickly got me strapped and buckled in, once more providing me with just enough room to bounce up and down madly.  Things progressed rather quickly from there.  Plates were brought in, tortillas passed around, and just as I was getting used to being stuffed by the inanimate probes that were currently embedded in my ass and pussy, Kari hit the controls.

The first time I rode the stool Kari had started me off easy, with just the top two inches of the vaginal probe slowly corkscrewing inside me.  This time she went hog wild and it felt as if I was being fisted, pussy whipped, sodomized, and raped all at the same time.  The only thing that kept me from crying out was the large wad of fajita in my mouth, which I swallowed quickly to keep from choking.  My eating companions continued their subdued conversation, seeming to ignore the fact that I was gripping the table hard and was bouncing up and down in an effort to get as far away from my attacking stool as possible. 

Kari didn’t touch the controls at all and eventually I settled back down, my body becoming accustomed to the brutality.  The vibrator in my rear was buzzing at what I was sure was full power.  The thing in my pussy was writhing like a live snake, bending, screwing, and yes, vibrating too.  I tried to eat, but it was impossible and I ended up just sitting there, holding on to the table as my body dealt with what was happening.

Surprisingly, it dealt with it by turning up the heat.  Within the space of three or four minutes I was grinding DOWN on the damn thing, eyes closed, as my impending orgasm built up behind me like a flooded river held back by a dam.  I could FEEL it.  I began rocking, moving my hips back and forth and everyone watched me.  Kari suddenly got up and went to the kitchen, returning before the dam broke.  She moved around behind me, knelt down and put a hand on my bare foot.

A sharp pain blossomed in the center of my arch.  I heard the snap, so I knew what she was doing.  I glanced down and saw that a thick rubber band was stretched between her thumb and forefinger.  With the other hand she had pulled it back like a slingshot and let the elastic rubber strike my tender foot.  She moved to my right foot and my toes curled reflexively as she let another stroke of the band land right in the middle of my arch.  Back and forth she went and it was only maybe for or five repeats before my burning feet were now part of what was going on inside me.  Kari hit me across the toes, the balls of my feet, the heels, but she concentrated on the soft arches.

Let me tell you about my feet.  I’m very sensitive, and Kari knows that.  I’ve always loved having my feet rubbed, especially on the arch.  Kari used to run her finger nails along the soles of my feet, slowly and I would just quiver, right on the edge between blissful pleasure and being tickled.  Anything faster would send me into giggles.  She knows it.  Kari on the other hand, loves feet.  I’m not saying she’s got a foot fetish, but clean feet, especially mine in the right sort of shoes, really turned her on.  I don’t know about Robert, but Kari usually kept me either barefoot around the house, or in flip flops, or high heels.  And the heels were always open toed with the sides exposed.  That way she could see…you guessed it…the arch of my foot.  Now I’ve endured bastinado before from her.  I was tied down on my stomach and she had just done a rather brisk number on my rear end, leaving me criss crossed with welts, when she moved her little white plastic stick down to my bound feet.  There was nothing I could as she smacked me except cry and scream.  She grabbed hold of my big toe and went to town, turning the white soles, the soft arch, into a mass of red lines.  I couldn’t walk afterwards and spent several days limping.

As my rocket began taking off, the little strikes of the rubber band were almost lost in the rush, fire exploding through me as I began to orgasm.  I know now that it was my fifteenth one, though at the time I wasn’t thinking to clearly.  My vision turned red with little black spots running all along it and I let out a teeth grinding groan that would have turned heads, if everyone wasn’t already staring at me.  As I popped, Kari continued her little foot torture and I didn’t even feel it.  At least not until the wave started to subside, leaving me a blubbery gelatin filled mass of girl that wasn’t really good for anything.  Had Robert wanted to fuck at that moment all he would have had was a real blow up doll who just laid there with glassy eyes.

But it was the sharp snap on my arch that brought me back.  Sure, everything inside me was still buzzing, moving, shaking, grinding, but it was that little pain that made me gasp and turn.  The word “please” escaped from my mouth before I could stop it and Kari gave me one extra hard strike on my other foot before standing up and returning to her seat.  I expected her to stop the stool.  But she didn’t.  I began trembling in sensory overload, my legs pulling and pressing against the stool.  My pussy was at the edge of…something.  I can’t really describe it.  Maybe a metaphor?  Try sitting in your living room with the radio, television, and your laptop computer all on, all playing music or a show.  Different music and different shows.  Make them all just a tad bit too loud.  Now have someone start ringing the doorbell, calling you on your cell phone, and have someone tapping you on the shoulder to hand you a sandwich and a drink.  Lastly, imagine all this going on while I’m kneeling in front of you, my mouth wrapped around your cock while one hand strokes your balls.  Or if you happen to be female, imagine my tongue on your clit making you very very happy.  Hey, I’m bi.  Everyone knows that!  Okay, so does everyone get the picture?  Sensory overload.

I passed out.  Yep.  Fell right into my fajitas.  I’m told that I was very graceful about it.  My eyes rolled up into the top of my head, I gave a little shake, and then closed my eyes and fell forward into my refried beans.  When I woke up I was lying on the couch, covered in a blanket.  Kari was hovering over me, a concerned look in her face, and she told me I had been unconscious for about a minute.  I blinked, still having trouble understanding that I was no longer seated at the table, or stuffed to the brim with sex toys.  Kari hugged me, tears in her eyes, apologizing.

Wow.  Talk about weird.  It’s not like this is the first time she’s made me pass out from sex before.  It’s happened several times, and not just with her.  Really intense orgasms will do that to me.  As long as I’m not in a bathtub when it happens, and alone, I’m usually okay, and frankly, I’ve never managed to be able to make myself pass out, no matter how awesome a masturbatory session is.

I guess I need to buy a stool like Kari’s, right?

I spent several moments reassuring her, holding her, hugging her, stroking her hair and then the soft vulnerable apologetic Kari was gone.  In her place was the dominatrix Kari, Mistress Kari, get your ass back on the stool Kari.  Oh shit.  Robert was there to give me a hand, and Mistress Sara led me back to the dining room table.  There was no discussion as I was reseated, my punished sex once more getting speared as my ass was parted by the small, currently silent, vibrator.  This time it was Sara who strapped me in.

Kari didn’t touch the controls.  I got to eat.  Nothing moved inside me.  I was just stuffed, but I guess that was enough for Kari and Sara.  Lunch was excellent.



Read Part Seven

Return to the Free Story Archive