tagBDSMIf You Want Something Done Right

If You Want Something Done Right

bykoala011860091©

Erin felt the drip of sweat trickle down behind her ear and under her collar. God, this was humiliating! What if one of the patients from the waiting room looked up at her? Would they notice that she was sweating? Her furrowed brow? Would they be able to tell just from looking how much agony she was in? Would they guess who was punishing her, or why? She looked out at the waiting room, and was grateful that all four women were busy reading or looking at their phones and not paying any attention to her as she did her best not to hyperventilate from the pain she was experiencing.

Well, from the pain, but she had to admit it was the arousal too. Her breasts felt like they were on fire, her pussy was so sensitive that it made her flinch every time she moved, and the burning intrusion in her ass made her squirm almost constantly. In spite of all that, her stomach was filled with butterflies, and she had a warm spot in her core that she knew would grow and grow until it became an inferno that would drive her to an orgasm of enormous proportions. Not that she enjoyed the pain she was feeling. Pain hurt. No one likes that. But the way that she had gotten into this situation, the risk of exposure, the knowledge of how she was submitting to make amends, all of that somehow just felt right to her and the knowledge that she was really doing it aroused her tremendously.

Erin jumped when her phone's timer chimed, signaling that it was 11:00, and time for her to repeat her session. Her stomach started doing flips, knowing what was coming next. She tried to reassure herself that this would be the last session of her punishment, but she knew that this would be the most difficult one yet. She was sure the planning had been perfect, but she hoped she was up for it.

Erin grabbed her purse, let Janice, the Nurse Practitioner, know she'd be right back, and headed to the Ladies Room. Janice probably wondered what the hell their office manager was doing, going to the bathroom every hour exactly on the hour, but it couldn't be helped. If the nurse had any real idea of what Erin was up to, it would have blown the poor woman's mind.

Erin was unbuttoning her silk blouse even before she was into the ladies room, and after checking that no one was in the other stall of the ladies room, she pulled the blouse off entirely. It was hung on the hook of the stall door, followed quickly by her knee length flared skirt. Erin looked down at her underwear clad body. It was amazing how normal she looked, given the pain emanating from her breasts and crotch. Her large breasts did look a little squished in the sports bra she was wearing, but nothing else seemed out of place. Only when she looked closely could she see that the tiny thong was a little small for her, and it was pulled very tight into her pussy, causing her lips to bulge out on either side of the small garment. More unusual were the small clamps, the ones she used to hold stacks of documents together, attached to her pussy lips, and the rubber bands that pulled her pussy lips down to where they were clipped to thigh high stockings.

After that, nothing looked unusual. She couldn't see how the burlap she had hot-glued to the inside of the bra and the crotch of the thong was digging into her sensitive flesh. She couldn't tell how her nipples were on fire from the abuse they had received today. How her swollen clit, completely exposed from her lips being pulled wide by the clips, was beyond tender from the constant rubbing on the burlap. It made her feel a little better that if her torment was mostly invisible while standing in her underwear, it seemed likely that it was not apparent to anyone else once she was dressed.

Erin knew she didn't have a lot of time, so she screwed up her courage, and pulled the sports bra up. Releasing her sore breasts from their confines made her suck in her breath at the sensation of the burlap raking across her tender flesh. Her normally milky white orbs were a mottled and angry red, and even though she knew that within a couple days they would be back to their pristine pale state she felt some pride in how their current condition showed how much punishment they could endure. She pulled her thong down to her knees, giving her tender inner lips and clit some desperately needed relief. She grabbed a small squeeze bottle of oil, flipped the lid open, then reached behind her butt with her right hand, and grabbed ahold of the base of the butt-plug protruding from her anus. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she pulled the plug out, the widest part of the plug stretching her tender flesh painfully. Her empty ass convulsed, trying to adjust to the space where the plug had been.

She held the plug over the toilet bowl, and squirted some of the oil to coat it before its return to its proper sheath. Erin had made the oil herself, leaving some diced jalapeno peppers in a jar of olive oil for a few weeks. She actually used it mostly for cooking, but it always gave her a secret rush to know that it was really there to aid in her punishments when she needed them. She was careful to keep the oil weak enough so it couldn't do any real damage, but that didn't mean it wasn't really uncomfortable when applied to the sensitive areas of her body.

The plug was now coated in fresh oil, and she gently inserted it back into her anus. She couldn't stifle a whimper as the fresh oil began to burn her tormented flesh. She knew from the two times she had done this already this morning that the burning, cramping feeling would escalate over the next 30 minutes, becoming horribly unbearable. She had almost been in tears when she first sat down this morning, the burning in her tits only surpassed by the inferno of the chili oil in her ass. She could barely stand the torment, but she knew that she needed to be punished, and she had made a commitment that she would follow through.

And once Erin had committed herself, she never backed down. Never, ever.

With the butt plug returned to her pain riddled bowels, Erin squirted the last bit of the oil onto her right hand. This was the last session of the day thank God, so there was no need to conserve it. She rubbed the oil all over her pussy and clit and even inserted a finger inside herself. The pleasure of rubbing herself was mixed with the gradually escalating burn of the oil. This was actually above and beyond her planned punishment, but sometimes Erin just liked to go the extra mile. She pulled the thong up firmly, pulling the burlap tight against her burning pussy. The pain made her hesitate for a second, but she knew she had to move on to her breasts.

Erin had always been proud of her breasts, ever since they first developed when she was 14. She thought her butt was a bit too big, her thighs weren't as toned and smooth as she'd like, no matter how many Pilates sessions she went to, and while her belly was smooth and flat, she didn't have the abs she'd always dreamed of. But she did have great tits. Large and full, with pink areolae and prominent nipples, they were still nearly as full and firm as she approached 30 as they had been when she was a teenager. Sometimes she resented the attention they got her, the way guys would stare, the bizarre come-ons she would occasionally receive, but she also knew that having a great rack gave her more benefits in life than annoyances.

Erin was sure that a psychologist could build a career looking into why so many of her punishments involved her breasts, but all she knew was that a punishment didn't seem proper unless her suffering included her tits. She quickly pulled on a rubber glove, opened a zip-lock bag from her purse, and pulled out a handful of stinging nettles. Her breath quickened in fear of what was coming next. She had started the morning preparing her nipples, scuffing them roughly with the green scrubbing pad at her kitchen sink until they were tender and throbbing. The abuse to her nipples had made the rubbing of the nettles all over her breasts even more excruciating than she had expected. She had actually screamed while she stood at her sink, at first stroking the stinging plants all around her breasts, then mashing them against her tits, finally using them to pinch her nipples with all her strength. For a moment it had seemed unbearable, as the tears flowed down her cheeks. But she was committed to this punishment, so not only had she finished, but she had put on the too small sports bra lined with burlap, and had come to work. For the last two hours, on the hour, she had come to the bathroom and repeated the torment, and now it was time to do it again. With painstaking slowness, she brushed the nettles all over her tortured breasts. She bit her lip, she squeezed her fingernails into the palm of her fist, she did everything she could to distract herself from the pain, but she did not stop until the burning fire of the plant's touch had caressed every square inch of her breasts. She focused especially cruelly on her nipples, using the stinging leaves to pinch them as hard as she could stand. If anything, it was worse each time she did it, and she was incredibly grateful this was the last time she would have to do this to complete her punishment. Just the prospect of putting the burlap coated bra back over the irritated flesh of her breasts filled her with dread. She hoped she could survive this last hour.

As always, Erin persevered, and soon she had the bra back in place, dressed herself, and was walking gingerly back to the front desk of the medical practice. Fran, the nurse practitioner gave her a funny look as Erin sat back down, but the older woman quickly went back to her work. Erin did her best to keep a fake smile on her face as she handed over the necessary forms to a new patient before she considered the final piece of her penance. While this wasn't the most physically painful thing she had to do this day, in some ways she found it the most difficult. She pulled her chair in tight against her desk, and reached under to pull the front of her skirt up high enough for her to play with her crotch. She spread her legs a bit, and slowly rubbed herself through the thong, caressing her tender, burning flesh. In spite of the pain that she had caused herself, she had to stifle a moan, and it took all her self-control to keep her hips from responding to the teasing.

Okay, who was she kidding? Not in spite of her punishments. Because of them. She would often ponder about what it said about her that she inflicted these punishments upon herself. The whole thing was a bit of a pretense, actually. She had messed up some of Dr. Conrad's files, that was all. Scott had been very understanding, even though it meant it would take longer for him to get reimbursed from the insurance companies. He was great that way, but Erin couldn't let it rest at that. She felt that she needed to be punished. She didn't really understand why she sometimes put herself in that mood, but when it hit, she knew it would not relent until she felt she had been properly punished.

So she had created this punishment to atone for the inconvenience she had inflicted. Not that Scott would ever know about it. He was incredibly sweet, and he didn't even so much as frown at Erin over the mix-up with the files. He would never understand what she was doing now. Over the last year they had become good friends, but it was clear that he didn't look at her as anything other than a friend. On top of that, he was way too much of a sensitive, post-feminist kind of a guy to have anything like the kind of crazy kinkiness that Erin's fantasies demanded.

"Yep, that's what I am, I am one kinky freak," Erin thought to herself as she rubbed the rough burlap against her clit, giving herself that exquisite combination of pain and pleasure.

Erin bit her lip as she could feel herself getting close to orgasm. She tried very hard to stay absolutely still, but she couldn't stop her body from tensing up. Her fingernails of her left hand dug into the armrest of her chair as she began to rub her clit faster and harder. The burlap scraped her poor tender clit, but she was still getting very close. Almost there... She could feel the orgasm just beginning to start...

Erin whipped her right hand away from her pussy and gripped her other armrest as tight as she could. It took all over her will to snap her thighs as open as wide as they would go. Her hips bucked all by themselves, and her legs spasmed wildly trying to bring on the orgasm that was so close. For a second Erin was terrified that she had gone too far, that she would cum. Breaking that rule meant that she would have to do the whole thing over again, a level of pain that she wasn't sure she could even begin to bear. Thankfully, she held out, and after about 30 seconds she could feel the danger pass, which unfortunately left only the frustration of being so close to an orgasm without any release. She almost started crying when her sore clit began to throb as the pleasure wore off and the pain moved to the front of her consciousness. She had almost been able to forget how much her breasts stung and itched in their burlap prison, or how her stretched anus burned from the capsaicin coated butt plug buried in her backside. But with no more pleasure to mask it, the pain rushed back with a vengeance. She blinked back the tears, and tried to get back to work.

She looked around guiltily, suddenly worried that someone might have noticed her state, but none of the women in the waiting room were paying her any attention at all, and Fran had taken a patient back to an exam room, so thankfully she was safe. Now she just had to survive one more hour.

It was amazing how slowly time could crawl. Every motion she made caused the weight of her breasts to shift, re-igniting the itching and burning from the nettles and burlap. Every time she got up to do some filing the clips spreading her labia stretched them painfully, and when she sat back down the butt plug rammed back up into her ass. She accidentally let a moan out one time after sitting down too quickly, causing a couple of the women in the waiting room to look up at her. She quickly looked down and shuffled the papers on her desk, trying to look busy. Would everyone notice how flushed she was? See how she kept tensing up from the pain? Wonder why she was sweating slightly?

She kept thinking she should just run to the bathroom and rip off her torturous underwear. Or maybe just tell the doctors she was sick and go home to soak in a bath and try to salve the pain. But Erin would never do that. She had determined that the punishment would go until noon, and once started, she never went back on a punishment. It was a matter of fierce pride with her that she would endure any punishment she set for herself. She had also endured any punishment anyone else had ever set for her, although that wasn't saying much, she thought ruefully.

Erin had had her share of boyfriends, but she had only revealed this side of herself, the part of her that felt the need to sometimes be punished, to just 3 of them. The first one tried to act like he was all sophisticated and accepting of Erin's "differentness," but when it actually came for him to do something, even just give Erin a spanking, the poor boy couldn't do it. It had made Erin sad, because he was really sweet, and he obviously loved her dearly, but he was just too nice to fulfill the dark needs that she sometimes had.

She had told a second boyfriend not long after graduating from college, and he just simply freaked out. A conversation that started after a couple bottles of wine about each other's' fantasies had quickly degenerated into a crying fest that ended the relationship when Erin had been a little too honest. It took a lot longer and a lot more trust building before she shared her secret with anyone else. The third guy had handled it better, and they had spent a few wonderful months playing. But Erin became more and more dissatisfied with his inability to be truly cruel when Erin really needed it. They had finally drifted apart, probably because he could sense Erin's disappointment, and the feelings of inadequacy that gave him.

Nowadays it was purely her own deviant mind that constructed her punishments. She still dated from time to time, but she had never found someone with whom she even felt close to being ready to share her secret. Because of that, she hadn't had anything that resembled a serious relationship in several years. She might date now and again, with more casual hook-ups mixed in between, but the fact that she was never really sexually satisfied with any of them always drove a wedge and prevented her from getting closer.

All of this left her alone to deliver the punishments that she craved. She spent quite of bit of time online, researching the options for punishment. She pulled a lot of ideas from kinky stories, and she also studied serious bondage and self --bondage sites to be sure things were practical and safe. She would fantasize that some Master was making her do these, that she really had no choice in the matter. It made it easier to do the things she knew deep down she needed. Using her imaginary Top, she had started by punishing herself lightly, and as she learned more and read more stories, she did it more often, and the punishments became more severe, and more elaborate. She was proud with how creative today's punishment was, but she was getting worried that she'd gone too far.

The agony was escalating steadily, and she still had 30 minutes before she could take off her punishment underwear, and even then she knew she would be horribly sore. Yet underneath all that pain, she was still unbelievably turned on. She tried to focus on that, thinking about how horny she was, and how good it would be to cum as soon as she got home, no matter how tender her pussy was. Subconsciously, her thighs began bouncing together and apart, getting her more turned on again, as the straps from her thighs to her pussy pulled and pinched her labia. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and she squeezed her arms across her breasts, driving the prickly burlap hard into her nipples. She moaned out loud again and the mix of pain and pleasure, but thankfully the waiting room was empty, since the office was closing soon for lunch.

Erin survived the time until noon in a haze of erotic pain. She did her best to pretend everything was normal as patients left and she helped them set up new appointments, but she was pretty sure that a couple of them wondered what was wrong with her. Their stares and confused looks let Erin know that she was not hiding all she was experiencing. When the time finally came, she got up from her desk, walked unsteadily to the ladies' room for one last visit. As soon as she was in the stall she almost ripped her blouse off and then peeled the infernal bra from her abused breasts. The scraping of the burlap made them scream in pain, but at least they were now free of their torment. It almost made Erin cry to look at them, all red and mottled, the nipples swollen and purplish. She rubbed them tenderly, but even that slight stimulation was painful. She hiked her skirt up to her waist, and very gently unclipped her pussy lips from her stockings. Again the act of removing the torture devices caused even more pain in the short run, with the rush of blood to her labia bringing all the nerves to life and making them pulse. She had to bite her fist to keep from a wail from escaping her lips. Once she could stand it, she pulled her thong out of her pussy, down her legs, and stepped out of them. Reaching back to her asshole, she got a good grip on the plug lodged there, and soon she was free of any the devices she had set up to punish herself. Of course her tits, pussy, and asshole all still burned and ached horribly, but she took some comfort in that at least it wasn't going to be getting any worse.

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bykoala011860091© 18 comments/ 62165 views/ 68 favorites

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