If You Want Something Done Right

She hadn't really meant for it to be like this. Normally she was so careful getting things set up, but things had been different today. It was the first time she had set up a punishment session for herself without even the pretense of having done something wrong. She just had had a vision of herself bound up like this, impaled on a dildo, and the vision wouldn't leave her. It had been over two months since her escapade on the hike; the horror of being exposed that day had deterred her from any new adventures for quite a long time. Besides, the memories of being bottomless and orgasming wildly in plain sight had given her plenty of memories to masturbate to, and so her need for a new session did not come back as fast. But as always, those needs eventually come back, and she found herself spending more and more of her time thinking about this session, planning it, and waiting for the right time. And then, almost spontaneously, she had decided this morning that she would make today the day, and just do it. She had already had plans for Scott to pick her up this evening to join a group of friends for some drinks, so her safety was already built-in and she decided to go for it.

Unfortunately, the preparations had taken a lot longer than she had thought they might. Usually she planned these things days in advance, but this was almost impromptu. Between the trip to Home Depot, the freezing of the keys in ice, and collecting everything she would need, she didn't get a start until quite late. She had done some quick math in her head, and had decided she still had just enough time if she got started right away.

So here she was sliding her pussy up and down on this monster dildo, trying to find a comfortable position even though there really wasn't one. Her legs were tired, her nipples ached horribly, her pussy lips were in agony, and she was drooling around the gag, with spit falling in a constant stream on her breasts. The frustration from what amounted to a two hour fucking with no orgasm was driving her absolutely crazy. To top everything off, she was terrified Scott would show up in just over 30 minutes. She had put the note as usual on the door, telling him to come in, just as she had her phone taped near her hands so she could dial 911 if she needed to, but those were back up plans. She had them just because she didn't want it to be possible that she might die while she was in the middle if her kinky games, not because she thought she would ever actually use them.

Erin was standing in her office, stark naked and facing the door. The first part of her torment was she was straddling an adjustable height sawhorse. She had set the height of the sawhorse to be about three inches below her crotch. She had attached a large dildo with a long screw to the top of the sawhorse. She had bought this dildo online with the express plan of using it for punishment. At over 8 inches long and an inch and a half in diameter it was far too ever be comfortable, but it wasn't so big that she was scared it would ruin her either. It was made of a very rigid plastic, and had very little give to it, and she was able to screw it onto a board from the bottom. Clamping the board to the sawhorse gave her an upright phallus to impale herself on. Using a small stool so she could get high enough, she had lowered herself carefully onto the dildo earlier. She had lubed it copiously, but the truth was she was so turned on that she didn't really need very much. When she had first imagined doing this, she had briefly considered having a second smaller dildo for her asshole too, but she couldn't figure out a way to make sure it would stay lubed and was scared of permanently damaging her rectum. So it was just the one dildo.

But what a dildo it was! She felt absolutely stuffed. Right after mounting it, she had worked her way up and down on it, covering most of its length. She found that if she stood on her absolute tippy toes she could get to where there were probably still three inches inside of her, preventing her from escaping. She had attached a spreader bar (thankful for her flexibility that allowed her to easily reach even while impaled) which meant that now at her highest she could get no less than 4-5 inches of the stiff rod inside of her, effectively trapping her. She had lowered herself to get all of the phallus inside of her, but found that with about a half inch to go, the dildo had hit her cervix in a painful way. This meant there was no way she could take her weight off of her feet. In fact she could barely put her feet flat on the floor without ramming her cervix. She had taken two of the clips that she had used previously to hook her labia to her stockings, and had tied the two rubber bands at the end so the two clips were strung together. She had attached a clip to each labia, on either side of the dildo, with the rubber bands running under the beam of the sawhorse, pulling her lips down. They were stretched just a little bit when she was at her lowest point, but when she went up on her tip-toes it stretched out her vulva painfully. That would keep her from doing anything to attempt dismounting the dildo before her punishment was over.

To prepare her breasts, she had chosen the same route as when she had made the dowel swing, swatting each nipple 20 times with the wooden spoon, leaving them swollen and screaming in pain. Apparently she is getting better at striking herself even harder, because attaching the nipple clamps had been obscenely painful. She had moved swiftly to tie them to a cord going to her ceiling hook and had pulled her nipples up forcefully. Even standing on her tip-toes, with her tortured pussy lips burning in agony, her breasts were being stretched up slightly by the clips. Before she had a chance to reconsider what she was doing, she had quickly pulled a small ball-gag into her mouth, buckled it, and cuffed her hands behind her back, with a string tied to the handcuff chain leading to the key frozen inside a small Coca Cola bottle. The key in a bottle was a new trick for her, holding the key where she couldn't get at it, and insulating the ice from her the warmth of her hands so there was no way to speed up its release.

This was the vision that had captivated her for the last couple of weeks. She was trapped, impaled on a giant dildo, pulled up by her nipples, pulled down by her cunt lips. (She didn't really like the word cunt, but when it came to punishments she often used the dirtiest words she could.) She could neither rest her weight on sawhorse, nor get high enough to free herself from the dildo. Remembering the agony she had felt when she had ripped the nipple clamps off before, there was no way she'd try to tip the whole thing over as a way to take the weight off her feet. Besides, unless she was willing to try to rip the clips on her labia off, she would still be stuck, impaled on the dildo until her hands were free. There was no guarantee that the clips on her pussy would come off without tearing her extremely sensitive flesh, so altogether she was absolutely positive that she would not do anything to try to escape before she had the key from the bottle.

So now all she could do was stand here slowly pumping the dildo in and out of her pussy. The non-stop self-fucking was making her incredibly turned on, but without anything actually touching her clit, she couldn't get any real traction towards an orgasm. She kept lifting herself up and down, alternating the pain between her nipples and her twat, and tried to focus on the sensations of the unnaturally hard phallus sliding in and out of her. Occasionally, she got close, but the orgasm always eluded her. It was doubly difficult now, as it was now down to 20 minutes until Scott was due to arrive, and her nervousness did not help her towards the climax. She began to panic, which made her tug the string harder and harder, praying for the key to come loose.

She thought she could feel the string just starting to move a little, and hope began to spring up. She could probably get herself out of all this bondage, pull on a robe, close her office door behind her, and if Scott showed up he would just think she was a typical girl who was never ready on time. She began to tug on the string in time with her bouncing on the fake cock. Just a little bit more and she was sure she was going to be free.

And then she heard the knocking at her door.

Shit! Scott was almost 20 minutes early. How could that happen? He was never early! But the knocking continued, and she could hear Scott's muffled voice calling through her door. She began pulling on the string as heard as she could, tugging franticly. She felt a rush of relief and gratitude, as the string came loose. As fast as she could, she pulled it up to get the key and unlock her hands.

The only thing she found was the frayed end of string.

Cursing her own stupidity for breaking the string, she heard Scott fitting his key into the door.

Erin's whole world began to fall apart. There was no way she could escape this, Scott was going to come in and find her, learn all about what a horrible pervert she was, learn all of her humiliating secrets. Her life would be ruined, she'd lose her job, her friends, everything. It was all beyond comprehension.

"Erin," Scott called as he entered the apartment, "where are you?"

Erin panicked. She tried to tell him to go away, but it came out all muffled through the gag. To make things worse, she just couldn't stop herself from gyrating and bobbing on the cock that was impaling her. She kept bouncing up and down, moaning and drooling around the ball gag. She was beyond depraved, she was a total slut, more into her wantonness and perversity than in doing anything to protect her dignity. She was almost jumping up and down to pound the fake cock in and out of her.

"Erin, are you ok... Oh my God," Scott stood in front of her shocked, struck speechless as he watched her piston on the dildo.

Erin took one look in his eyes and completely lost it. Her legs locked tight and trembled spasmodically, her upper body jerked back and forth as an orgasm of unbelievable power hit her like a Mac Truck. This was not like a wave washing over her, but like a series of sharp jolts, hammering the ecstasy into her body. She bucked and shook as each one hit her, obliterating her conscious mind as she retreated into focusing just on her body and the intense sensations of the orgasm.

"Oh my God," she dimly heard Scott blabber, "are you okay? Who did this to you? What happened? Are you all right? Should I call the cops? Oh fuck, what do I do?"

After a bit, Erin opened her eyes again, barely able to focus on him. Scott's talking slowed down and he began to take everything in. He stared at her naked and trembling body, the dildo penetrating her, the bottle with the ice and key. She could see him slowly put the pieces together.

"Oh, fuck. You did... you did this yourself. Oh fuck, I'm not supposed to be here, am I? Shit... Erin, I'm sorry. I should... Do you want me to go? Do you need anything? God, I'm such an idiot -- of course I should go."

Erin shook her head vigorously and moaned through the gag. Now with the orgasm over, the pain and humiliation of her situation was much more intense, and she wanted nothing more to escape her bondage. Besides, she had no other way to free herself now that the string was broken.

"What... oh, right... the gag off. Okay hold on"

Very tentatively and gently, he fumbled with the buckle on the gag and pulled if from her mouth. As soon as she could speak, a torrent flooded out of her mouth. She was still so dazed from the orgasm and humiliated by her situation that she was barely coherent.

"Ohmygod, I am so humiliated. I can't believe I let this happen. Scott, please you gotta get me out of this. Oh fuck, you can't tell anyone about. I swear I'll die. Oh God, this can't be happening. Please, I'll quit and go away, just.... Shit... just please don't... please... no..."

She trailed off into a stifled sob. Scott's faced switch from confusion to concern.

"Hey, hey, hey," he comforted her, "it's going to be okay. Christ, why would you quit? I need you, you're great. This is none of my business. Fuck, what am I thinking, I should cover you up. Or should I help get you out... shit... I don't know what I should do"

"Scott, oh God, you've got to get me out of this. Since I came, this shit is really starting to hurt. There's a key for the handcuffs over there on the desk. Please, get me out of them. Now. Please."

"You just had an orgasm?" Scott asked as he grabbed the key and tried to unlock the cuffs. "I thought that's what might be... At least it kinda looked that way, like you were... I wasn't sure because you were all... y'know... and it was kind of a shock seeing you. I mean it looked like you were in trouble, and then it looked like you were... and then I didn't know what... ahh crap... you were... uhh... shit, let me just get these off."

Erin could see that his face was bright red, and in spite of the situation she felt a slight smile creep onto her face at his predicament. The whole thing was still horrifying, but at least he was being decent about it. She could some guys being all moralizing and disgusted by her behavior, or she could see other guys being all creepy and trying to take advantage of her. Scott seemed to be concerned only that she was alright, and beyond that he seemed to be embarrassed that he had barged in on her like this.

Once her hands were free she motioned that she would do the rest. Scott stared at her naked body for a few seconds while she removed the clamps from her nipples and her pussy lips. She bit her lip and was grateful that she didn't let out a moan as the blood flow returned to her tortured flesh. As she bent over to untie the spreader bar, he seemed to come to his senses and turn away from her.

"Hey.. uhm... look... I'll leave you to... uh... take care of... uh.. of all this," he stuttered, waving his hand at her and her toys. "I'll just go into the living room, and when you're... uh... you're ready, maybe you and I can talk just a bit."

"Oh, Scott, just... just go. I'm sorry I've put you through this. I'm fine. This is all my deal. I never meant for you to find out. I don't need... I don't want... no, just go..."

"No, Erin I can't. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I there's a couple things we need to get clear. I need you to know that I'd never do anything to hurt you, but I've also got some things I need to understand. Okay? Just give me a chance"

She didn't have the strength to argue with him, and he walked out of her office, presumably to wait for her. As quickly as she could, she got herself off of the dildo, and ran to her bathroom. She used a washcloth to quickly clean her crotch and armpits. All that time spent bouncing and fucking herself had left her sweaty and smelling of sex, but there was no way she wanted to be like that when she talked to Scott. She debated putting on underwear, but her pussy and nipples were too sore, so she pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt, and then put her bathrobe on over that. She was basically dressing to be the opposite of sexy, she just didn't want Scott to get any crazy ideas like she was a nympho slut or anything.

She walked into the living room, dreading what might come next. She really didn't have any idea what was going to happen, but everything she could think of was horrifyingly embarrassing and uncomfortable. She sat down on a chair across from Scott, and covered her mouth with both her hands. She looked at him but didn't know what to say. Fortunately he started.

"Look Erin, we're friends right? I don't want to make a big deal of this. What you do in your private life is your own business, and I don't see why this should change anything. Absolutely not at work, and I hope not between us as friends. Okay? Good." Scott seemed reassured by the barest of nods that Erin had given him.

"You know, I kind of want to just leave it there," he continued, "but I've got to ask. Do you do this very much? Was this like a one-time thing, or, you know, have you been doing it a while?"

Erin cringed inside, she really didn't want to talk about this. It wasn't like Scott was being critical or judgmental, it was just that she didn't want to expose all of her emotional baggage to him.

"I don' t know. Some....," she replied sullenly.

"Hey look, I'm a doctor, right? It's not like I haven't seen a lot of weird shit over the years," he allowed himself a slight smile. "And I'm not a psychologist, but you know I end up talking with a lot of women about all kinds of sex stuff, and I can tell you there are all kinds of folks out there. Everybody is into their own thing, and as long as people are safe, I am cool with it all, and it's all good."

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm in no position to judge you or anything, but I want you to be safe. Do you always do this alone?" Scott asked directly.

Oh great, he was rubbing it in that she was so twisted that no one would participate with her. What business of his was it that she had to do this alone?!?

"Yeah, well, mostly"

"Mostly?" Scott wasn't buying it.

"Okay! I do this alone, okay. I have to, because I don't have a boyfriend, all right? So leave me alone, okay?" she snapped.

"Hey I'm sorry, I'm not trying to pry into your private life. Really. I'm just worried about you."

"Oh cuz I'm so screwed up in the head and such a perverted freak?" Erin was getting angrier.

"Fuck no! Hey, I'm an OB/Gyn. You wouldn't believe the things I've had to fish out of women's orifices. Believe me, I seen shit that would blow your mind, and I am totally fine with whatever floats your boat. But you were here all alone, and you had a gag in. What if your nose had stuffed up? You might have suffocated. You wouldn't want to end up all over the news for getting naked and strangling yourself like that Kill Bill dude, would you?"

"He was into autoerotic asphyxiation," she retorted, "this is just self-bondage, I would never deliberately try to choke myself"

"Oh yeah, that's compleeetly different," he deadpanned. In spite of herself, Erin giggled a little at the absurdity of her own comment.

"Okay, okay" she answered, "I get what you're saying. But I'm really careful. The ball-gag was small enough I could always breathe around it through my mouth. I was safe, okay?"

"Maybe. But you had broken the string to the key. You could have been stuck there for days, died of dehydration."

"I only did that because I was scared when you knocked on the door. Anyways, that's why I had you come over. You were my safety net. And if you didn't come for some reason, I had the phone set to auto-dial 911. The police would have rescued me before I died or anything."

"Wow. Okay, you really did think this out. But what if the police just thought you were a crank call? What if the cop turned out to be some kind of serial killer whacko? There's a lot of stuff that could go wrong here."

"Fine, fine," Erin held up her hands, "I get it. You make good points, and I promise I'll think about ways to make sure I'm being really careful, okay? But you know, life isn't risk free"

There was a long silence. Erin knew Scott was right, there was a lot that could go very badly here, but she also knew herself. There was no way she would be able to stop. When those feeling hit her, there was no way she could deny them. Part of her felt like she should just lie to him, tell him that she'd never do it again, but she didn't want to. She didn't think she should have to. Besides that, he knew her pretty well, so he'd probably see right through her anyway.

"How about we meet in the middle?" he finally broke the silence. "Since you're using me as your safety net anyway, how about you at least let me know? That way I'd be absolutely sure to check in on you. Or rescue you if you need it."