Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut
Ben Wa Balls
Special Assignment: How To Strip
Screw A Banana
Butt Plug Day
Blow Job Friday #1
Clothespin Jumping Jacks
Rubber Bands & Tape
Dress Like A Slut Day
Blowjob Friday #2
Buying A Collar
Toilet Brush Fuck
Blowjob Friday #3
Blowjob Friday #4
Fuck An Egg
Play With Playdo
Blowjob Friday #5
Icy Hot Torment
Duct Tape Top
Blowjob Friday #6
The Best Sauce
For A Good Cause
Basking In The Sun
In The Bed
Getting My Oil Changed
All In White
Breanne On The Rocks
Self Inflicted Pony Ride
How Many Guys Does It Take?
A Knotty Rope Walk
Preparing The Fireworks!
July 4th Special Assignment
In The Bathroom
Corn In The Cunt
On The Fence
Rules For Nympho Humiliation Pain Sluts
It’s seems that it has become quite common place for one author to support and encourage another and I have been fortunate to be not only a reader and fan of Breanne Erickson, but a mentor as well. For almost two years, Breanne has been putting pen to paper (or digital ink to screen as the case may be), telling her avid fans of her adventures. With a creative mind and insatiable sexual appetite, Breanne is perhaps one of the most impressive, up and coming, BDSM Erotica authors of today. She has easily eclipsed those around her, including myself. I’m pleased and honored that she is a co-author of our website, Michael Alexander Stories.
When I started my blog and website back during the winter of 2009, I asked Breanne if she would be willing to write a short “blog entry” each day. It was intended to be something simple, a few paragraphs at most, and would chronicle some miniscule sex act that she would be performing. I imagined her giving a brief description of her day while wearing ben wa balls. For awhile, that is exactly what I received. But in short order Breanne’s “Daily Assignments” became more convoluted, more involved, and her descriptions lengthened, sometimes to short story lengths. When she gave me her first novella I knew that we were far beyond those simple descriptions and what it was like to walk around stuffed with a sex toy.
Breanne is a self proclaimed N.H.P.S., an acronym that has started to become infamous, if not mainstream. Other women interested in the lifestyle are adopting some of the rules involved. But what exactly does it mean to be a NHPS? Well, Breanne has a few specific rules:
#1 A NHPS should keep her pussy stuffed at all times, preferably with cock. If cock is not available, the NHPS should stuff herself with whatever objects/toys are available in order to keep herself sexually aroused and ready.
#2 A NHPS must be ready and able to endure a painful punishment/torture at anytime, for anyone, for any reason.
#3 A NHPS is not allowed to refuse to perform a sexual act that is within her prescribed limits.
#4 A NHPS should always dress provocatively so that she can be recognized as a slut, yet dress according to the requirements of her masters and mistresses.
#5 A NHPS must maintain her physical appearance (fit, shaved, and flexible) in order to be tied or used in whatever position her betters require.
So now you embark on a phenomenal adventure as you accompany Breanne on her “Assignments.” Have fun.
I know that Breanne did.
Hi. My name is Breanne, and I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut. I know… what an introduction right? Hell, I even have business cards that say that! It gives my name and title and even my email address. You can’t imagine how many emails I get. I guess it pays to be popular, right?
So I guess the first thing I should do is thank you for reading “Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut: Volume 1.” Is there a “Volume 2” you ask? Absolutely. And a bunch of others. I’d have put it all together, but to be honest, the book would rival War and Peace, though I admit it would probably be a much more entertaining read. But as cool as that would be, an encyclopedia of my sexual depravities may not be the best thing in the world.
So how did this adventure start? Well, I had sort of been out of the scene for a few years – personal reasons – when my old friend, Michael Alexander wrote to me and begged for me to come back. A rather famous BDSM erotica author, Michael was starting his own website and BDSM Blog and wanted me to provide… um… a daily sexual post to provide fresh content and a reason for people to visit the blog. “Just a couple of paragraphs, Bre” were what he said. Little did I know that it was going to turn into a practically life consuming adventure!
“Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut: Volume 1” starts on that fateful January 14th, 2010. It’s sort of a journal, but it’s also a story. My story…
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Every weekday I will be posting my daily assignment, a series of tasks set for me by friends, fans, and Michael Alexander. Each task will be explained at the beginning of the post, followed by a synopsis of the previous day’s task!
Today’s task: Today is ben wa ball day! Put the ben wa balls inside yourself and keep them there for a full nine hours. You can take two five minute breaks. No masturbation!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Yesterday’s Results: Today is ben wa ball day! Put the ben wa balls inside yourself and keep them there for a full nine hours. You can take two five minute breaks. No masturbation!
It’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with the constant attention of a sex toy, especially for as long as I had to deal with these. I’ve always liked the ben wa balls. They’re sexy, elegant, and totally cool. Not only that, but they’re relatively low key, which means you can wear them to work or school and not worry about hordes of people looking at you funny, which can happen if you’ve got a vibrator buried inside you. I know that from experience!
Anyway, a little foreplay masturbation got me in the mood for the two little golf ball sized spheres and I slipped them in and got my clothing readjusted. Then it was back outside to get my work done. Needless to say it was very VERY distracting. Those little spheres kept me sexually excited the entire day, constantly leaking, desperately wanting. Half way through I would have gladly fucked anything that asked!
At the end I was so horny I broke out my big vibrator, laid down naked on the bed, removed my day’s little tormentors, and replaced them with something large, firm, and with a heck of a lot more juice! I think I beat the world speed record for fastest masturbation session. MMMMMMM…it was awesome!
Special Weekend Assignment
“How To Strip”
Sunday January 17th, 2010
Special Assignment assigned by Mistress Ellen. Breanne, you will dress conservatively and drive out to the freeway. Pull over and stop the vehicle. Get out of the car and move to the very front of the vehicle. You will then remove your clothes, folding each article of clothing neatly, and place the removed item on the hood of your vehicle. You may remove your clothing in any order you desire. Once you are naked, put on your denim duster, return to the driver’s seat, and get in. You will not close your duster. You will drive below the speed limit, in the far right hand lane. Once you’ve passed 610, you will stop somewhere, masturbate in the car, turn around, and proceed toward home, again below the speed limit, in the right hand lane, with your duster open.
I suppose the smart thing would be for me to start at the beginning, rather than the ending, but I’m not sure I can. It’s late in the afternoon, just before dinner and I am sitting in my bedroom in nothing but my denim duster. It is pulled up, scrunched up so that my bare bottom is touching the seat. This is just in case the vibrator inside me leaks a little. It has been pretty busy lately.
My assignment was relatively simple: dress conservatively, stop the car, strip, put on my duster, flash truck drivers, stop somewhere, masturbate in the car, turn around, and flash truck drivers. Mistress Ellen left so much to my own wants and will. It made things so much harder.
My very first choice was whether to take the Saturn or the pickup. The pickup is a huge Ford F-150 that seems to tower above me. The Saturn is a little coupe. Mistress Ellen wasn’t specific and so I spent valuable time deciding what she would want me to take. In the end I took the Saturn. It would put me more on the level I need to be so that Mistress Ellen’s orders could be realized. Of course, it also made me more visible for the most daring part of this whole assignment.
I like my denim duster. It’s heavy, thick, hangs down past my knees, and buttons all the way up the front. I put that on over a decent skirt, my red blouse, bra and panties. Nothing exotic, just your normal run of the mill stuff you can pick up at Target. I can dress up, but why waste it? For shoes I had put on my high heels. There is nothing sexier and I like feeling that way.
I got in the Saturn and immediately made my way out to the interstate. Traffic was relatively light, especially for a Sunday afternoon. Thank God I wasn’t doing this on Monday! Development has really taken off though and if I was going to find a decent place to pull over and start my assignment, I needed to do it relatively quickly, before I made it too far into town.
I only went a mile before I pulled over to the side of the road. My hands were trembling as I watched car after car zip by me. I could practically hear Mistress Ellen ordering me to get out. I took a deep breath and opened the car door.
Freeways are noisy, windy places and the spot I had chosen wasn’t any different than most other spots. There was a large empty field to my right, no doubt for sale to developers for the right price. On the other side of the freeway was a large movie theater and about a mile further down the road were a couple of restaurants. I-10 is a six lane divided highway so I wasn’t really concerned about the other side of the freeway seeing me, since I would just be a tan speck in the distance.
I moved to the front of the car and suddenly had my next moment of choice. Do I stand in the very middle of the car, or off to one side. Mistress Ellen had only said “in front” of the car. I decided that I needed to be in the very center. I took off my duster. It’s still winter time and the measly fifty degrees of sunshine we were experiencing certainly was not conducive to me removing my jacket, much less everything else. The wind made me move quicker than I might have, despite my impending nudity. I laid the duster on the hot hood of the car and quickly pushed my thumbs into the waistband of my skirt. The elastic stretched and I tugged it down, cold wind from passing cars striking my thighs and bottom. My white cotton panties were absolutely no protection. I folded the skirt, just like I was instructed. It then went on the hood next to the denim duster which was hopefully sucking up the heat from the engine. My blouse came next, my skin raised in goose bumps. As I folded it I realized that I had totally forgotten that every car driving past was seeing a girl standing in front of her car wearing nothing but a bra and panties. When I put the shirt down I reached behind me to unclasp my bra. This was hard and my fingers fumbled. I heard a honk and looked up, seeing eyes glued, a car slowing down as it passed me. Then the bra came loose and I quickly folded the cups together and put it down on top of my clothes.
Bare breasted with everything showing I tugged at my panties, finally removing the very last bit. I stood there naked, cold wind on my very wet and bald slit, knees knocking from fear and cold. I folded my panties, ignoring the looks that I knew where directed at me as every car whizzed by.
I picked up the duster and wrapped it around my body. It radiated heat and I shivered in the sudden warmth, my body releasing some of its tension. I scooped up my clothing and returned to the driver’s seat, not even closing the duster as I settled behind the wheel. I cranked the heater up and closed my eyes. I was sure that this had been the hardest part. I reached up over my shoulder and grabbed the belt, pulling it across my still visible breasts and buckled up.
Moving back into traffic I looked for the first available truck. I stayed to the far right, driving slowly enough for anyone to get a good look at me. I kept the duster open and I know it wasn’t just truckers who were getting to see my breasts, not to mention the top of my slit. There were a number of vehicles that matched my speed, but I ignored the honks. With every mile and every truck I drove along side I felt my pussy getting wetter. I pressed my thighs together, desperate, realizing that Mistress Ellen was actually being very nice by having me bring my vibrator. At least there would be relief.
Just after passing 610 I turned around and headed back west, looking for somewhere to pull over, park, and ram my vibrator into my pussy. I was soaked. I felt as if a thousand people had looked at me, and from the various honks and waves I certainly had been seen by enough. I passed Hwy 6, my body desperate for relief, my flesh crawling in humiliation. I had just displayed myself for the entire west side of Houston. I pulled off, finding an empty parking lot. I know that Mistress Ellen would have preferred me in the crowded Wal-Mart Parking Lot, but I knew I couldn’t do it, even if it earned me a painful punishment. I put my right leg over the center console, the stick shift pressing into my thigh, and slipped the vibrator into myself with a sigh.
It was on high of course. Low settings are nothing more than a minor stimulation for me. I’ve been known to sit on vibrators for hours at a time, letting the buzzing slowly build the flames inside me. On high however it was only seconds before I came, and then, not wanting to stop, I came again.
After my second orgasm I changed the setting back down to low and contemplated the rest of the drive home. Mistress Ellen said I didn’t need to keep the vibrator in, but I slipped the seven inch plastic toy in deep. There were two reasons; the first being that I hoped it would mitigate some of her displeasure at the empty parking lot I masturbated in. The second was because it felt good. It made me feel sexy. Admittedly, it was a stupid and dangerous thing to do though. By the time I made it back to my own small little neighborhood my pussy was brimming with need again and I wanted to pound away at it. I pulled up to the house, buttoned up my duster, and headed inside. I made it too my room, sitting down at my computer in order to write everything down.
And that’s why I’m sitting here, naked except for a heavy denim duster pulled and scrunched up so that my bare bottom is touching the seat. So what comes next?
I think you know. Excuse me.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Last Assignment: Get a banana and find some private time. Screw yourself with an unpeeled banana until you cum. After you cum, peel the banana and put it back in. Screw yourself until you either cum a second time or the banana breaks.
I’m no stranger to bananas. They are the perfect fruit for a number of reasons. First of all they are sweet, soft, and tasty, come in their own biodegradable package, grow quickly and are easy to transport. There are usually five edges which conforms nicely to the hand and the fruit doesn’t need to be cut up to get in the mouth. Bananas are pretty cool.
Of course from a sexual perspective, bananas take on whole new possibilities. First of all, bananas are usually just the right length to be pushed up into a girl’s pussy. The peel is water and sex juice proof, and the nice edges give you something firm to grip when it’s going in and out. For me, it was sitting on a bale of hay, legs spread, my jeans and panties around one ankle. I started with a little oral, not that I needed it. I was already wet. Then I slowly began pushing my banana in and out. It took a long time to cum that way, just slow fruit sex, but I managed. Then, as per instructions, I peeled the banana, carefully repositioned it, and pushed it back in.
Fucking a peeled banana is not as easy as screwing one with its biodegradable covering on. Bananas are soft, which means they break easily. I think I managed about ten thrusts before the one in my hand broke off, leaving about five inches of mushy wet banana stuffed up inside me. It took a little bit of effort to get it out, but I managed. I held the remains of my fruity, all natural, fun little dildo and took a little nibble. Sweet, salty, tangy and a decidedly familiar flavor. And that took care of that. Maybe next time I’ll add ice cream, hot fudge, and a cherry.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Last Assignment: Find three odd ball objects you’ve never fucked before and do them. Can be ANYTHING!
I was a little concerned about this assignment because I’m really into objects. The list of things I’ve had sex with is long and distinguished, running the gambit from a typical garden hose to the business-end of a baseball bat. Maybe at some point I’ll let Michael publish the full list, but needless to say, I had some problems thinking of new things to put inside me. And before any of you guys say “I would have volunteered” remember the assignment was “odd-ball” objects. So what might that say about you?
To be honest, I put off the assignment until the very end of the day. Oh, I kept my eyes open for stuff, but at ten o’clock in the evening I was sitting at my computer, doing a little bit of writing and wondering how I was going to complete my assignment. And then a long time friend and dom named Stone logged into messenger.
After just a little bit of mental stimulation and encouragement from “Master” Stone, I had my first item. True, it had been circulating in my head before, but Stone firmed up the idea. So I left my room, still dressed in tube socks, pajama bottoms, and a tee shirt and headed to the bathroom. Once there I grabbed the extra toothbrush (the brand new clean never used one) from the medicine cabinet. Then I headed back to my room.
I shucked off my pajama bottoms and my panties before sitting back down. I admit, I felt a little scared of what I was about to do. I mean, really…a toothbrush? I opened the package. I was already wet from my writing so I didn’t really need any preparation. The only question to answer was which end. Dumb question, right? I put the bristle end against my pussy, the little strands pointing upward, and pushed. Surprisingly it went right in, no trouble, and didn’t hurt. For a girl who has fucked the business end of a bristle hair brush you’d think I wouldn’t be so squeamish.
It took me a moment to settle and let Stone know it was in and then I started pumping it a little and moving the toothbrush around. Wow…what a difference! I could feel the bristles against the inside of pussy, and while it wasn’t really something that could make me cum it sure heightened my sensitivity. I was gushing, soaked. Maybe it was the sensation of the bristles rubbing inside me. Maybe it was the weird position I was in: feet up on the bed, twisting to my right in order to type, slouched in my seat, knees wide open.
Stone was very supportive, giving guidance, encouragement, and then orders. I have trouble saying no when ordered to do something, so when I confessed I had no idea what else to screw, he ordered me to leave the toothbrush in there until I had an idea. Now that’s encouragement. I complied, like I usually do when given a direct order, no matter where it comes from, and tried to keep from squeezing down on the toothbrush. It didn’t work and I sat their watching the handle bounce up and down in accordance to the involuntary spasms of my pussy. I made a comment about Stone being cruel and sadistic. While he laughed, a light bulb went on in my head.
When I think of cruel and sadistic, I usually think of clothespins. I actually have about half a dozen in a tin sitting in my desk drawer. They’re nice wooden ones, a little old, a little stained. I’ve had and used them for years and they’ve been attached to all sorts of spots on my body.
But I’ve never fucked one.
Stone thought it was a great idea. He allowed me to take out the toothbrush, but rather than toss it aside or put it on the desk (or better yet, throw it away), he said it needed to go back inside me. At first I was a little confused. It would probably fit with the clothespin, but why take it out? Then I made a face at the thought of brushing my teeth using my own sex cream as a paste. I mean, you should have seen this thing! It was literally gooey! That’s when Stone told me to stick it in my ass. Damn, I never should have told him I was going to throw it away after this.
Sticking a toothbrush into your ass is a lot more difficult than sticking one in your pussy. First of all, your bottom isn’t designed for entrances, just exits. One of Michael’s standing rules is that the “anus is an exit, not an entrance”. He doesn’t write anal sex much. For me, getting the toothbrush in my ass was a very uncomfortable experience, especially since I knew Stone didn’t mean the handle end. I scooted even farther down my seat, smeared as much goo around as possible, and then pushed gently and firmly, trying very hard to relax.
Never ever clench your ass when you have an inch of toothbrush up it.
After a moment of extreme discomfort I managed to get it deeper, almost three inches. My ass continued to tighten around the brush, but I suspect I had managed to crush all the bristles down since I wasn’t really feeling any prickling from them. Now it was just an odd, angular shaped object up my rear. I let Stone know that the brush was firmly implanted and he told me to get out my tin of clothespins.
Oh yeah, and to take off my shirt.
I was already half naked and a quick moment managed to get me all the way except for the pair of white tube socks. Stone ordered me to get out two clothespins and put them on my nipples. I actually was expecting this so I asked if they should go on straight or from the side. This actually matters since the pinching is different. Stone said both so on my left side I did it straight, while my right I did it from the bottom. I was asked which hurt more and decided it was the left. My nipples ached, my bottom burned a little, and I felt a deep sexually longing in my pussy. I was now soaked, really soaked.
Stone then had me use three more of the clothespins, admonishing me for not having a full dozen of course. At first he wanted them on the back of my arm, on that tender skin where it would really hurt, but I kinda objected. He was cool about it and instead made me put them on my breasts. Since my nipples were already clamped I just picked random spots.
After I was done Stone gave me the order I hated. He wanted me gagged. I hate gags, always have, and always will. Especially ball gags. Those and dildo gags. Anything that keeps my mouth open and worse: “drooling” is on my “shit list”. I don’t own any gags, which Stone knew damn well. That’s why he ordered me to get my panties and put them in my mouth. I grimaced, not that I was concerned about dirty panties, but because I didn’t want anything in my mouth! I I did it though, taking my panties and wadding them into a ball. I stuffed them in, feeling the dry cottony taste, the faint scent of my own sex tickling my nose.
When I was done I looked down my body and realized how stupid I looked. Here I was, totally naked except for a pair of white tube socks, slouching in almost a horizontal position in my chair with my feet up on the bed, knees wide apart, a toothbrush handle sticking out of my ass, my mouth stuffed with my own panties, and my breasts covered in clothespins! I looked like a fucking porcupine trying to hang the wash out to dry! With only one clothespin to go, I had no doubt what was coming next so I picked it up and was totally ready for Stone’s command. I slipped it in and was immediately overcome.
With disappointment. I hate fucking odd-ball things. Give me something large, smooth, and long any day of the week. Fucking a clothespin is not something that will make you cum. It was strange feeling and I pushed the wooden clamp in all the way, closed of course. I got more pleasure from my fingers working it in deep than the actual item. I even tried pumping it, too no avail. Oh well. Not everything I’ve stuck inside me actually felt good. Stone thought the whole situation funny and asked if I had thought of my final object.
I looked around my room. Everything in my toy box was out, since I had already screwed everything in it. My computer desk was pretty bare, not even a stapler on it, not that I would be able to screw that since I’ve had a stapler inside me before anyway. My mind seemed to go blank and I couldn’t think of anything new. In hindsight, it could have been because my breasts were throbbing painfully, my nipples tingled, my ass kept clenching around the toothbrush, and I had a full sized clothespin rammed up inside me. But hey, no pressure!
In the end Stone came to my rescue. He asked me if I had ever fucked one of my high heel shoes. At first I was astonished. I had never thought of that. I even checked my list to be sure! He was right! I had never ever put a shoe inside me. Slowly I got up. And I do mean slowly. Walking with a toothbrush up your ass and a clothespin in your pussy encourages a waddle, rather than a strut, and I made my way to the closet carefully. I don’t have a large selection of sexy footwear, but I have enough to make the decision a little more complicated. Should I choose the spike heel, with the long thin point? Or something with more width? I knew I would be pushing the actual heel of the shoe into myself, rather than the front, but it still was a major decision. In the end, I grabbed a pair of Franco Sarto black patents, with a heel an inch wide and three inches long. I made it back to my desk and reassumed my position.
Stone reasserted his control over the situation by ordering me to remove the clothespin. I did, expecting his next order which dutifully came. You know where I had to put it, don’t you? Ah…does it suck knowing what comes next? Or are you just waiting in breathless anticipation for my description?
Yes, I squeezed it open. The entire thing was wet and slimy, but that didn’t matter as I positioned it where Stone had ordered me to put it. The clothespin closed on my clit, eliciting a moan from me, right through my gag. I bit down on the panties as a spark of pain exploded between my legs and I shifted my hips, letting the clothespin wiggle as I waited for the hurt to subside and the ache to begin. When it did I was ready. I took the shoe in my hand, turned it so it was pointed toward me, and started playing footsie with my pussy.
Shoe heels are hard, angular, and come with a lot of baggage. The first thing I realized was that every pump and thrust was going to result in the sole of the high heel banging into the clothespin precariously swaying from my sore clit. The penetration wasn’t anything to write home about, since three inch heels don’t go very far. But after the third or fourth thrust I felt something happen. My body tightened and it all came together. My breasts didn’t hurt so much as ADD to the sensations I was feeling. My clit seemed to swell and each movement became sexual stimulation, the pain radiating outward and turning into something more. I was like molten iron tempered in the heat of torment, the high heel pumping in and out.
I was glad I was gagged. I wouldn’t want to wake anyone. Yes, I screamed into my own panties. I bashed the shoe against my clothespinned clit. I shuddered as the orgasm rocked through me, my thighs trembling as I stretched my body in orgasmic bliss.
When I opened my eyes it was over. The most incredible euphoria of my explosion seemed to seep through me, too every pore. Nothing hurt anymore. I just lay there, basking in the warm afterglow. Slowly I responded to Stone’s polite inquiries as to my mental and physical state. He let me take out the shoe, take off the clothespins, and then we turned our attention to the toothbrush. I yanked it out, trying hard not to clench my ass. That got thrown in the trash. Duh…did you think I’d brush with it after it had been in my ASS?
And so I managed to fuck my three odd-ball objects. Did I enjoy it? Absolutely! It was a fantastic evening that I would do again in a heartbeat. Stone did a great job…didn’t he?
So what’s the next assignment? I’m ready!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Last Assignment: Pick out your favorite vibrator. During the day, anytime you are alone, sitting down, you need to put the vibrator in, turn it on low, and keep doing your stuff. You are not allowed to cum. It doesn't matter if you're driving or at the computer. Good luck...and stay wet!
I’ve always felt that honesty is the best policy when it comes to life. You know “the truth will set you free” crap. Telling lies makes life confusing because not only do you have to keep track of what’s true, but you have to keep track of the false stuff you’ve told. So I have to admit that yesterday’s assignment wasn’t my finest hour.
When I first read the assignment I was relieved. It was relatively easy, benign, and not too complicated. I mean really...put your vibrator in when you are alone and sitting down isn’t exactly difficult to understand. On low the vibrator would be hard to hear, not terribly intense, and more of an intensifier than a stimulant. I’ve spent HOURS with a vibrator up inside me, buzzing away at the low setting while I chat online, play online games, or just read Michael’s stories!
So yesterday morning after my chores, when I sat down to do some writing for the blog and website, I was embarrassed when an old friend messaged me and asked if I had my vibe in. Ooopps. I forgot.
Well, in my defense I was wearing jeans, which aren’t really suitable for easy implantation and extraction of sexual toys. He promised not to tell anyone, but it was my own conscience that got to me. I was SUPPOSED to be following the Daily Assignments faithfully. I got up, went to my toy box, and got my vibe. Getting my jeans and panties down was a triviality, as was getting my vibe in, since I was already wet. I tugged everything back into place and sat down.
There were only a few more times during the day that met the criteria: a quick drive to the store, watching an episode of Fringe on my computer, sitting on my bed after my shower, that kind of stuff. I did my best. But to be honest, my morning’s failure still gets to me.
I failed the daily assignment. The fact I did eventually put the vibrator in is immaterial. I failed the daily assignment.
I’m wondering what punishment that’s earned me. I guess I’ll find out, won’t I? And my guess is that it will be a lot more complicated, certainly not easy, and truly punish me for my lack of attention.
Yesterday’s assignment wasn’t my finest hour.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Last Assignment: Au Natural: Today find a quiet spot outside. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining, snowing, hot or cold, just head outside. Strip naked, totally and lie down looking up at the sky. Spread your legs wide and lift your arms over your head. Feel the earth, the sun, the rain…whatever. Reach down and run your fingers through your sex until you ripen. Then stand, redress, and don’t masturbate or cum for five hours.
There is something magical about being naked outside. It’s a feeling I’ve always loved. First, there is the thrill of doing something vaguely naughty, making you so much more aware of your own body. And unless you are on a nude beach, there is always that tiny bit of risk that you will be seen, observed, eye-fucked, whatever. For me, I choose one of the grazing fields that we’re resting right now, keeping our horses off to let the land replenish. There are roads nearby, but they’re far enough away that I felt totally comfortable. I rode Star, my own mare out to the field and let her loose to find a snack while I quickly shucked out of my boots, socks, jeans, my shirt, and then my bra and panties.
I lay down and looked up at the cloudy sky, the grass against my back, and I spread myself wide, imagining myself bound and staked. I must have stayed that way five minutes, enjoying the feel of the breeze, the wind somehow becoming synonymous with unknown watchers caressing me with their sight. I felt myself getting turned on and my fingers found their way downward to my pussy, softly caressing, working my clit until I was soaked.
I pulled my hand away, knowing I wasn’t allowed to cum. With a sigh, I stood up, still enjoying the sensation of total exposure and realized I had an opportunity: one that I had never taken advantage of before. Ignoring the fallen heap of my clothing, I grabbed Star’s saddle, put my bare foot in the stirrup, swung myself into the saddle, and kicked her into a gallop.
I’ve never ridden naked before.
Suddenly I was even more exposed, higher up than any vegetation, totally visible to anyone driving down the road. And even more incredible was the movement of my body against Star’s saddle. My pussy kept sliding, wetness leaking onto the leather, my clit getting pinched as I rocked with each powerful stride of Star’s legs. I couldn’t help cumming.
Can you believe it? That’s the second day in a row I’ve broken the rules about my daily assignment? Damn.
I turned Star around after I regained control of my orgasming body and hurried back to my clothes. Sliding to the ground I gathered everything back up, re-dressed, and then cleaned my saddle of the wet mark that stretched down the middle. I rode for home, enjoying the sensation of Star moving between my legs, wishing I was naked.
Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 1
can be purchased for
99 cents from these fine booksellers!