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Breaking My Record - By Breanne Erickson

Part 9

Twenty One

I was carried to the shower.  Robert had released me, but evidently I was still dripping chocolate and he didn’t want to stain the floor, so he literally picked me up, kept me at an angle, and carried me to Kari’s bathroom.  I was set down in the stall and he spent a moment removing my cuffs and collar.  Then he pulled the handset sprayer from the holder and quickly turned on the water. 

He at least had the decency to wait until it warmed up.  I was already a bit cold, so the last thing I wanted was a direct stream of cold water on my pussy.  But when Robert directed it up between my outstretched legs, it was bathwater warm and rather gentle.

“Do I make a good bowl?” I asked him.  He grinned.

“The best.”

“So what’s Kari going to do to me now?” I asked, just a tad bit curious.  When we had entered the master bath I had gotten a glimpse of the clock.  It was just a tad bit past eight thirty, leaving Kari with less than half an hour to do anything further to me.  She might just end it there, except I still wondered about that “full restraints” thing she told Robert.  I asked him about it.

“You’ll see” was all he would say.

Robert cleaned me out by spreading my petals and sending a direct beam of water right up inside me.  It wasn’t a douche or an enema, but sort of a mixture and it pretty much got rid of all the chocolate.  I washed myself and then Robert turned off the water.  He handed me a towel and I patted my loins and thighs dry.

Robert led me to the bed in the master bedroom, sitting me down as he quickly put my wrists and ankles back in their respective cuffs.  My collar was still on, so he didn’t have to do that.  The little clock on the nightstand said it was eight forty one. Robert walked over to the clock and then opened the drawer of the nightstand, removing two objects. 

The first was a blindfold, the classic black eye mask.  He slipped it over my head and I took a deep breath as sight was denied me.  I’m not big on blindfolds or gags, but I suppose we have to give in some time, right?  Then he kissed me on the mouth.  I opened my lips and he pulled back, only to replace his tongue with something hard, made of rubber, and vaguely spherical.  I recognized the rubber ball gag I had worn earlier. 

He pulled me too my feet and turned me around.  My wrists were cuffed behind my back and then I was slowly walked forward until I sensed we were back in the living room.  I could hear Sara and Kari chatting, but the conversation stopped when Robert and I approached. 

“Stand right there, Breanne.  Don’t move.”  Kari said.  I felt Robert step away and then I was alone.  I turned my head, unable to talk, barely able to move, and I felt, or maybe sensed someone standing in front of me.  I jumped when a fingernail touched my left nipple, followed almost immediately by the sharp bite of a set of my duck billed clamps.  My other nipple was shortly tormented in the same way, and whoever had clamped me stepped back, leaving me to the direct agonizing pressure of my overly tight toys.

I felt another touch on my leg, this time on my thigh and I took a step, widening my stance as I felt another touch, this one on my labia.  I let out a little moan as something was slid through my petals.  It wasn’t until it was pushed inside me however, that I realized that someone was inserting my vibroballs for the umpteenth time. I let out another muted moan as they were activated, rather strongly too, on what I still suspect was near the maximum setting.

That was when I felt Robert lifting me.  His strong arms picked me up, swinging me, and I could feel the tug of the wire running from my pussy.  We only went a few steps and then I was lowered down.  I put out my feet so that I could stand, but felt nothing.  Then, as we went lower, I felt something graze both thighs.  In a flash I realized what was happening and I let out an agonizing shriek that came out through the gag like a simple squeal.  The blunted edge of the wooden horse cut up into me, pressing dangerously and fingers parted my sex to make sure that I would ride correctly. 

With my hands tied behind my back, I was in no position to support my own weight and even pressing in on the sides of the device only gave me temporary, and rather weak, relief.  In less than a minute I was rocking back and forth, my bruised, abused, and swollen pussy was in no condition to endure another ride on the wooden pony, but evidently that made little difference to my tormentors.  I kicked a bit and felt Robert’s hand helping to keep me balanced.  Then my sex was pulsing and I began to rock in earnest, trying to keep the pressure from hurting me in any one spot.

As soon as my hips were wildly thrusting, someone, or maybe two someones attached the weights to my ankles.  You try having an extra sixty pounds added to your weight when you’re mounted to a semi-sharp edge of wood cutting up into the sensitive and tender spots between your legs.  I went crazy.  The problem however, was that I was getting turned on.  Seriously turned on.  See with every thrust I felt the wooden spine of the horse biting into me.  My nipples throbbed.  My pussy ached and buzzed.  I began literally humping the horse, dragging my sex and then clit along the wooden edge.  Over and over, the minutes passing by as my legs ached and my entire crotched protested in agony.  I rocked back and forth, putting my weight on my ass, my perineum, and then slid forward to run the wooden ridge through my pussy to my clit.  It became almost religious.  Rock backward, hold it as long as possible.  Rock forward, hold it as long as possible and try to cum.  Rock backward.  Repeat. 

I’m not sure how long I rode like that, but it seemed forever.  I actually started having a pins and needles sensation in my pussy along my labia.  I shifted again, pain bursting up through my loins.  My chest heaved and then someone was hitting me with a whip, aiming for my rear, which only made me buck more violently.

“Do you want off the horse?”  Kari’s voice whispered in my ear.  I squealed into my gag and nodded violently.  Duh.  Of course I wanted off the horse.  It hurt.  Another stroke of the whip across my rear sent sparks of pain exploding through me.

“I will let you off the horse if you agree to stay until morning, Breanne.  Let me make you cum some more” Kari whispered.  “Otherwise you have to cum to get off.  Just nod yes and I will have Robert pull you off.”

What a terrible choice.  I had responsibilities, people relying on me.  Who would feed the animals at five am the next morning?  I couldn’t stay, could I?  It hurt so bad.  But if I stayed, what would Kari do to me?  I would have to cum more, over and over, and I was so sore.  And then the horrible truth occurred to me.  She would just put me back on the wooden horse at some point, regardless.  I drew in a shuddering breath and shook my head no.

A rather hard stroke across my breasts tugged painfully at the nipple clamps and I shook in desperation, trying to keep my balance, but also to lean forward enough to pinch my clit between my coccyx and the horse.  It was tough and I did it a few times, but not enough.  Kari hit my tits a few more times.  Then the whip was brought down on my pussy, striking my clit and thighs and I cried out, tilting back, exposing myself as a target.  Whoever was hitting me picked up the pace and the whip struck repeatedly smashing against my clitoris.  I let out another scream as my twenty first orgasm rushed through me like a wrecking ball and I endured a major spasm, jerking wildly against the horse as hands moved to grab hold of me, keeping me balanced and firmly seated until I was finished.

When it was done, I slumped against Robert’s arms.  It wasn’t that I was ignoring the burning hurt between my legs.  I just couldn’t do anything about it.  There were hushed whispers around me and then I felt fingers at my ankles, unclipping not just the weights, but ripping the velco fasteners of my ankle cuffs.   In moments I was free and much lighter and Robert lifted me off and deposited me on the couch, wet, sore, and incredibly tender. 

My wrists were removed from the encircling cuffs, as was the dog collar.  Tender fingers stroked me, my hair, my face, my arms, even down to my legs.  No one dared touch me where I had just endured my ordeal.  They left the blindfold on till last, finally pulling it from me with some last act of drama.  I blinked, trying to take in everything.  Both Kari and Sara sat next to me and Robert was sitting kneeling in front of me, a look of concern on his face.  I didn’t even notice I was crying until Kari reached up and wiped away a few of the streaks on my cheek.

“You did great, Bre.  Twenty one” she said, wrapping her arms around me.  I just melted into her arms. 

Epilogue

I think we both cried for a bit, which in retrospect seems a little odd.  Finally, when I regained my sense of composure, I discovered that Robert had very generously packed my duffel and laid out all of my clothes.  Gingerly, and in no particular hurry despite the clock reading thirty past nine, I put my tee shirt, panties, and blue jean shorts back on.  I gave Sara a peck on the cheek, promised her to get together soon, and then turned to Robert.

He was still naked and there was still a thin rubber ring encircling the base of his cock.  I grabbed him, hugging him tight, and thanked him for all the sex.  He gave me a tight squeeze in reply. 

And then I was read to go.  Only one further goodbye awaited me, and Kari was standing at the door, her hands filled with a cup towel from the kitchen.  I stepped up to her with a tiny smile.

“Thanks for helping me out on this one, Kari” I said to my former mistress.  She smiled and shrugged.

“Anytime.  You know that.  You’re always welcome here.”

“I know” I replied.  She cocked her head at me and gave me a knowing look.

“Do you remember the last thing I fucked you with that first night?” she asked.  Her face was inscrutable and I looked at her, eyes narrowing.

Did I remember?  How could I not?  Kari had waxed me, whipped me, and then fucked my up and down with a variety of vegetables, culminating the entire experience by forcing an eight inch long cucumber as thick as my wrist into my pussy.  The truly memorable thing happened the next day however, when Kari’s mother cut up the cucumber and served it to us in our salad.  But for Kari, I nodded.

She pulled the towel away from her hand, dropping in on the floor and I realized she was holding a huge cucumber, at least as big as the one she had forced into me that first night. 

“For old times sake.”

I gave her one of those looks.  “Please, Kari, you can’t be serious.  I’m sore!”

Her eyes hardened and she gave me a look that would have melted solid steel.  “You don’t have to cum, just keep it in until you get home.  That’s all.  Now bend over the table, pull down your shorts and panties, and spread your legs.”

I have a problem with following orders.  It’s not that I refuse to do them; it’s that a well toned order, no matter who it’s from, generally has a good chance of being obeyed.  I’m just wired that way.  My pussy was tender, bruised, swollen, and I really didn’t want to walk out of Kari’s apartment stuffed with a huge cucumber.  But the look in Kari’s eye, the sense of command, it was all there.  Some part of me screamed “no no no no no!” in the darkness of my mind, even as my fingers snapped open the button on my shorts.  I turned around and stuck my thumbs in the waist bands of both my shorts and panties and I pushed them down.  They seemed to move of their own accord, falling down to my knees before my spread legs stopped them.

Kari keeps a little table by the door, ostensibly for keys and not for the occasional vegetable rape of nympho humiliation pain sluts.  I bent over it, my heart racing, as I stuck my rear end out, arching my back.  Kari put her hand on my back and then I felt the cool rounded end of the cucumber touching me.  Kari didn’t just ram it in.  She slipped it along my petals until the remnants of my last orgasm along with some rather fresh reactionary juices coated the tip.  She twisted it, swirling it through my pussy, and then positioned it directly at my hole and began to push.

Yes, I am equipped to take something that size.  No, generally I don’t do it standing, or bent over.  I grabbed hold of the table, knuckles white as Kari worked it into me.  And when I say work, I mean it.  She had to really screw it in.  The angles were wrong.  I squirmed as she inserted the vegetable into me and a few whimpers later and quite a bit of discomfort, I had the majority of that eight inch cucumber stuffed into my pussy.

I wasn’t wet enough for us to worry about it slipping out, or maybe it was the angle.  Kari let go of it and then reached down, pulling up both my panties and shorts.  The giant pickle made a huge bulge in my panties, but my shorts were more of a problem.  They were really short and pretty tight, so when Kari managed to get them in place, she had to pull up several times, even as I straightened out.  This only managed to force another inch or so of the cucumber into me, almost making my eyes pop out.  It was tough, but Kari managed to get my shorts in place and snapped.  I felt full and very uncomfortable, but sexy too.  How many girls walk around with a cucumber shoved up inside them?

Kari gave me a kiss and we hugged.  Then my bag was put in my hand and everyone crowded to the door as it was opened and I stumbled out onto the landing.  There was no doubt I was walking funny, and I thanked god that all of Kari’s neighbors were in their own little domiciles and not out walking around.  I waddled (yes waddled) down to the stairs and then started down them.  Each step forced the cucumber in and out of my pussy, and by the time I reached the bottom I could feel copious amounts of juice wetting my sex.  When I got to my car, I realized my shorts and panties were soaked.  I grabbed a towel from the back seat and tossed it down, and then very carefully, sat down.

Never ever drive a stick shift sedan, while stuffed with a cucumber, after riding a wooden pony.  Twice.  Every time I moved the stick I felt the cucumber shift inside me.  By the time I was half way home I was thrusting involuntarily, moving crazily.  I realized I wasn’t going to make it, at least not without wrecking.  She knew this.  She knew it and did it to me anyway.  I pulled over to the side of the freeway, slid my seat back as far as possible, and managed to get my shorts and panties down. 

This time, the angle and lubrication were enough and I barely caught hold of the cucumber as it shot out of me, no longer held in place by my clothing.  I shoved it back in, rather violently, one leg stretched across the center console with one foot up on the dashboard.  My left hand pumped the cucumber in and out while my right found my clit.  It wasn’t that long before I let out a car rattling scream, exploding with a wet squirt that literally splattered the brake and accelerator pedals.

It took me a few moments to calm down.  The cucumber was mostly out, but I remember Kari’s orders.  She wanted me to keep it in till I got home.  Well…okay.  I gently pushed it back in, brought my leg back to the driver’s side compartment, and shifted until the bottom end was pressing down into the towel.  I kicked off my shorts and panties, put them on the passenger seat, and got back to driving.

Sure, I was naked from the waist down.  I had an eight inch cucumber stuffed inside me.  I had just spent almost a full day being sexually tortured to the tune of twenty two different orgasms.  I was bruised, tender, sore, achy, wet, horny, desperate, satisfied, dissatisfied, demanding, needy, scared, eager, willing, reluctant, and everything in between.  That first night, almost ten years ago, was repeated perfectly.  A whipping and a waxing, followed by phenomenal fucking, and ending with a powerful orgasm, while wrapped around a giant cucumber.  How’s that for yin and yang?

I made it home without incident, which is good, because I’m not sure I would have been able to explain my lack of lower attire, much less the cucumber to a police officer.  When I pulled up to the farm, I tugged out my cucumber, with much regret I might add, and got back into my clothes. I wiped the thing on my towel as I grabbed my duffle bag and carried both back into the house.  There was just one more thing to do.

My mother was in the kitchen and she smiled warmly as I walked in.

“Hi, Bre.  How was your day with Kari?”  She asked.

I grinned.  “Explosive.  You know how Kari is.”  My mother nodded.  She was blissfully ignorant of Kari and my relationship, but she had known Kari for over ten years.

“What did you do today?”  My mom asked.

“She redecorated and had some new furniture she wanted my opinion on.” I replied blithely.  “And her friend Sara came over so we ate together.”  I held out the cucumber.  “Oh, and Kari gave me this.  Said I should eat it tomorrow in my salad.”

My mother took it.  “Is it washed?”  She asked.

I didn’t hesitate, shrugging.  “You know Kari.”

“Yes, Breanne.  I do.”

 

The End

 

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