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Blogs > Amy84 > Milk Slut's Stories > Fantasies of a Milk Slut Chapter Fifteen

Fantasies of a Milk Slut Chapter Fifteen  

Amy84
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5/9/2006 7:05 am

Last Read:
6/8/2006 7:44 pm

 The sun has just set as we drive back to pick up Anna at your parents’ house. She’s sleeping when we arrive so we decide to leave her there for the night as we wouldn’t want to wake her. When we arrive back home we go into the house. We get ready for bed; just before going to sleep you have your bedtime snack. All that my nipps have endured that day makes the feeding excruciating, but nonetheless it causes me to cum. When the alarm goes off in the morning, I wake to find that you’ve already gone to your parents’ to pick up Anna. You bring her into the room so I can feed her breakfast before feeding you yours. Due to all the milk training you put me and my teats through the years before we had Anna; I’m able to feed her only half of the contents of one boob leaving you the other one and a half for your breakfast. After the nursing sessions are finished, I take my shower and begin to get ready for work. As I’m dressing you enter the room with an evil look in your eye and a wicked smile on your face. Lately, you’ve begun working on pushing my sexual limits again; you had let-up a bit on that during the last few months of my pregnancy and the first year and a half of Anna’s life. You pulled the weighted nipple clamps from our bedside drawer and tossed them on the bed, you also picked out a nice butt plug that’s about an inch in diameter. “You’ll be wearing these during the day” You say. You pull my left nipple and attach the clamp with a five ounce weight attached to it. You proceed to do the same to my right nipple. My nipples are in agony from the previous day’s adventures and this only adds to the pain pulsing through them. You give my ass a quick slap, “bend over mommy.” You’ve quit calling me “slut,” “bitch” or “whore” while Anna’s around. How would we even begin to explain it if she happened to pick up those words and repeat them?

You lift my skirt and spread my legs about a foot apart. You push the plug up my hole. When you’ve finally got the plug inserted to your liking, you help me put my bra on so that the clamps are pushing my nipple into my tit flesh, increasing the pain they cause. You leave the weights suspended outside my bra so they can still pull on my nipple nicely. I put on one of the shirts I wore while I was pregnant, it allows for the weights of the clamps to be somewhat concealed. You kiss me goodbye and inform me that I’m allowed to take the clamps off during my morning breast pumping session but must reattach them precisely the way they were. You’d come with Anna around lunchtime and you’d check them to make sure it was done correctly and to see how much more I’d be required to endure. Driving to work, my nipples started to numb so I thought I’d be able to last the entire day with no problems, as long as they stayed numb. How wrong I was soon to be. When I reached work and got out of the car, the weights began swaying with every step I took, reminding my nipples that the clamps were there and keeping them from re-entering the state of numbness they were previously in during the car ride.

I wondered as I walked through the hallways to my classroom how noticeable the clamp weights were underneath my clothing. It was bad enough my boss knew about my lifestyle because you chose to include him on an experience we had several years ago, I didn’t really care to have any more of my colleagues knowing I was a dirty little slut. I had three choices: I could walk nonchalantly through the hallways grinning and hoping nobody would notice, I could hold my books to my chest causing the clamps to dig further into my tit flesh but keeping the weights from swinging noticeably, or lastly I could walk faster to my classroom increasing the swinging but decreasing the amount of time I’d spend in the hallways for others to notice but this choice might also draw more attention to me because I’d be speeding through the hallways. I decided the best option would be to hold my books to my chest which would cause me more pain but less humiliation. The pain I could conceal by just grinning as I walked to my room.

Around an hour and a half into the day, an hour before I’d have free time to do my morning breast pumping session, a student walked up to me, tapped my leg and said “Miss W, your shirt is getting wet,” Oh shit, I thought. My knockers are almost fully refilled and the clamps are causing them to keep a constant drip soaking through my shirt. As long as I could stay behind my desk I’d be okay, if I had to get up for any reason I’d be showing off my wet shirt to everyone. Of course, as a kindergarten teacher, there’s never more than five or ten minutes where I’d be able to remain sitting. Soon enough, the children needed me and I had to leave my seat behind my desk. Now the public humiliation worsened, I’d be walking around the classroom with a soaking wet shirt, the weights would begin swaying again and the butt plug would rub against my asshole as a constant reminder that it was stuck up there. Amanda came up to me a few minutes later. “Miss W, why’s your shirt moving like that?” she said. “And why are you making those funny faces?” I just smiled and told her to go back to her work. The next hour couldn’t go fast enough.

As my shirt was completely drenched in my milk, the morning bell rang and the children were released to gym class. It was my only opportunity to pump this morning. As the children filed out of the room, I removed the pump from my closet and plugged it in, I decided to make myself comfortable and lean against the pillows in the reading corner on the far side of my room. As long as someone didn’t come looking for me, I’d be left in privacy to relieve my aching breasts. I quickly removed my shirt and unhooked my bra. I slowly released the tension springs on the clamps and prepared myself for the pain of blood rushing back to my areolas and nipples. As I unclamped my nipples, I let out a quick yelp. I prayed nobody heard me. As my time left to pump dwindled, I hurriedly attached the teat cups and turned the pump on as high as it would go. The pain was unbearable, I wish I had time to pump at a lower power but the truth was that I didn’t, the other truth was that part of me was really enjoying the pain caused by pumping my sore nipps. As I pumped I thought about how harsh you were being on my tits lately, it was all good and fun, but how long was I realistically going to be able to handle it? Luckily, as I pumped my shirt dried most of the way, maybe I’d be able to keep the milk from spurting out again before you and Anna stopped by on my lunch break—or should I say your lunch break, since you and Anna both got to eat, but I really didn’t. The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful, not to say that it wasn’t painful.

Lunchtime came and you and Anna arrived. My coworkers love seeing the two of you coming every day at lunch. They figure you’re just doing your husbandly duties of bringing Anna by to see her mommy, if they only knew what was really going on behind those closed doors. You set Anna down in the corner to play with some toys while you inspected my butt plug and clamps. I begged you to allow me to go the rest of the work day without the clamps; my nipples had already been through so much. You agreed to go easy on me for the afternoon but told me I’d make up for it after work. You could tell my teats were exceptionally full today, I explained that I didn’t really get my full pumping session in during my morning break. You ordered me to sit in the chair behind my desk; you collected a few items from around my classroom before sitting down in my lap facing me.

You cut out a hole in the bottom of two plastic cups and applied them to my nipples, pulling my nipples through the holes you cut. This caused a constant stream of milk to filter through my nipples. You covered the stream of milk with another plastic cup on each side. The second cup on each tit was the kind of plastic that could be compressed to form a sort of vacuum. The vacuum caused the milk stream to flow even faster. When you were satisfied with how much milk you had released from my teats, you removed the cups. You fetched Anna and placed her in my arms for her lunch feeding. You sat down in front of my desk and watched Anna suckle away at my boob. You sipped the milk you had collected in the cups. When Anna had her fill of milk, you took her back to the corner to play and then you kneeled down in front of me, I leaned forward a little and you began to suck fiercely at my breast. After lunch you took Anna and went home. When I got home you and Anna had your afternoon feedings before you put her down for her afternoon nap. After she was finally asleep, you made me strip completely nude and then you put my collar and leash on.

You lead me down to the basement. You bound my hands and feet together and then to the chains in the ceiling and floor. You said in a cold voice, “this is your payback for begging me to spare you this morning. You are pathetic. You should be grateful I didn’t punish you right there.” You proceeded to put my nipple clamps back on my nipps before attaching them to the chains in the ceiling. You instructed me to kneel which strained my arms and pulled intensely at my nipples. You picked up your favorite whip and began whipping the underside of my knockers. When my eyes were filled with tears you stopped whipping my tits. With one swift movement you released my nipples from the clamps. You then went on to whipping the top of my boobs and across my nipps. When purple welts formed across my breasts, you finally put the whip down. You helped me to my feet and put the clamps, still attached to the chains in the ceiling, back on my nipples. You told me to squat and spread my legs.

Kneeling behind me, you released the last of your punishment on my ass and cunt with a flogger. “I hope you understand why you needed to be punished,” you say sternly. “If I am to continue to stretch your sexual boundaries and test your endurance I cannot allow you to beg me to go easy on you.” Tears ran down my face as I sobbed. I knew what he was saying was right. I knew I needed him to stretch my boundaries and increase my stamina. I knew I needed to be punished; I emotionally craved more but physically didn’t know if I could handle any more.

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