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Pinkie's Tasks Category

Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

The Demise Of The Three Martini Lunch Isn’t All Bad

The three martini lunch may have ended a few decades ago, but the ways I spend my lunchtime these days may be just as intoxicating for phone Masters — and it might just drive me to drink too.

Master Jim especially likes to make use of lunchtime — his & mine.

Because we are in two different time zones, he assigned me tasks for both our lunches today. First, during his lunch time, I had to do the following:

Print neatly on an index card, “I”m a slut masturbating in the bathroom for Master Jim,” take it to the bathroom and play with yourself for 10 minutes. You will not come, just make yourself so wet that after 10 minutes, you will hold up the index card with your sticky fingers & photograph it as proof and message it to me.

Then, two hours later, when it was my lunchtime:

Take two clothespins and return to the ladies’ room — not your office where you can hide — and wait for my call.

Once he called, he instructed me to pop my big tits out of my bra & place a clothespin on each nipple. Under his direction, I was then forced to twist the clothespins — trying desperately to remain silent in the public restroom so that my coworkers wouldn’t hear. While other women came in & out of the bathroom, Master Jim shamed and humiliated me…

What would happen if I made enough noise to be discovered…

What would they think of their boss, their consultant, found in the bathroom obeying a stranger, twisting her clamped nipples, the pussy juice on her thighs proof that she was a pain slut.

He was right too; the combination of nipple pain and his humiliation of me, telling me what a slut I was — especially after masturbating just hours earlier — had me very wet. In fear, shame & humiliation I whimpered & cried as silently as I could.

To make matters worse, the call only lasted five minutes — five free minutes for him to celebrate my birthday.

And he has five more minutes to use yet…

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Friday, June 12th, 2009

Protected: How Some Masters Use Me In Messages

One of the perks of using NiteFlirt is the ability to pay for services in Pay Per View messages — like this.

Master Jim sent a message for me take very small rubber bands and wrap them twice around each nipple — not very easily done with such large nipples & small rubber bands, especially when you have long nails. But the greater difficulties were still to come…

Once the rubber bands were on, my nipples began to sting — sending waves of desire in my hungry pussy. But Master Jim had ordered me not to touch myself (feeding my cunt’s desire & distracting me from the pain). I was to occupy my time by taking photos of my nipples & sending them to him for 15 minutes, until he called.

When Master Jim called, I greeted him as have been trained to and then I continued to do as I was told.

First, I was to sit with my knees up & legs spread wide in front of a mirror so that I could tell him every visible change in my pussy as well as describe what I felt. (I’ve never done that before; it added a level of emotional discomfort which Master Jim exploited further, using my own body’s reactions to pain to humiliate me.)

Thanks to Master Jim’s willingness to share, Member Masters can see a few of the photos & read more details when they enter their password below.

(If you are not a Member Master & do not have the password to see all protected or Bound Posts, here’s how you get it.)

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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Tuesday, June 9th, 2009

Protected: While Blackie’s Away…

Pinkie will play — but only as Masters direct me too, of course.

Blackie will be away, leaving me completely at your use, for three days & nights. He won’t be back until the evening of June 12th.

He has a few tasks for me to complete, like I had to do some of my work at home today wearing nothing but my new (from “D”!) Japanese clover clamps on my nipples (painful proof for members to see below) and a vibrator stuck in my pussy. (Blackie likes the Natural Contours LIBERTÉ™ for long-term play. The minute he read this review he knew what to do… It’s shape allows insertion as well as contact with my clit, and requires no hands-on work from Blackie. He can just tie it in position or, like today, order me to wear it beneath a tight panty girdle.)

Of course, no orgasms were allowed. When I finished my work, I called Blackie and he supervised removal of the clamps and the vibe to make sure I didn’t orgasm.

Now my nipples are sore as hell and my slick cunt has that hungry ache…

But Blackie’s main wish is that I serve as many of you as possible. In fact, he wants me so used and abused when he returns that simply getting on my knees to suck his cock will be an extreme chore. Just how I get that way will be up to you…

Member Masters, enter your password below to open the Bound Post and see the photos & discounted phone rate information.

(If you are not a Member Master & do not have the password to see all protected or Bound Posts, here’s how you get it.)

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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Monday, May 25th, 2009

Memorable Memorial Weekend

I don’t know how you’ll remember Memorial Day Weekend 2009, but I’ll remember it as an exhausting painful one.

Even though Blackie was away, I was anything but neglected & ignored; two regular phone Masters, “D” and “MC,” made sure of that. On Sunday, I was even rented out for the day exclusively to a new Master who had lots of new tasks and training for me to do — it was the first time this new service option was put to use and I was so thoroughly used, pushed past limits of sleep deprivation, humiliation, and pain, that I spent the last hour just shaking, crying & desperately trying.

Between Friday and the wee hours of Monday morning, there were more clothespins used on me than I care to count, too-too many adventures with Ben Gay (after sp & a even!), an incredibly painful (and long!) session of service kneeling on dried rice, and a sordid assortment of services that, while I tended to with dedication, I am still too blurry-minded to be able to recall them all correctly…

And I do not have much time to recall and tell of them either because Blackie has returned and I must tend to him and his needs. But I will share this…

Breasts are remarkably resilient, taking punishments that have you crying and coming (or, when you are not allowed to come, have you struggling to hold yourself from falling over the forbidden edge) and leave you with tenderness and aches which are ever present whether awake or asleep — yet looking as if nothing much has happened to them. They are deceptive things.

But the insides of my thighs? Oh, they show their misery.

Since Blackie believes good submissives tell their Masters of their conditions, I had sent both “D” and “MC” photos of the bruising on my thigh. Both of them took great delight in adding to it by paddling (along with their other pleasures).  Here’s what it looks like today:

memorial-memory-thigh

Since I have suffered so much abuse this holiday weekend and Blackie’s long absence has made him miss me and wish to use me himself, I will have very limited availability for the next few days.

This is also to save myself for scheduled continuing training to learn a new task for “MC” as well as be able to service “D” when his gift package arrives. (He says the things inside that package will make me gasp just looking at them — so using them per his wishes will likely require stamina and strength that I currently do not possess.)

So after tonight’s hours (between 10 or 11 PM until 6:30 AM, central time), I will likely not appear as available for calls until Thursday.

If you wish to abuse my current painful state (including my abused tits & thighs), or if you feel you cannot wait a few days to use me, please call tonight, Sirs.

PS I will continue to blog during this time; so please, check back!

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Saturday, May 23rd, 2009

Protected: Member Master Update

Member Masters, below you’ll find three short videos of me using clothespins on my nipple — and some preview news.

(If you are not a Member Master & do not have the password to see all protected or Bound Posts, here’s how you get it.)

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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Friday, May 22nd, 2009

Protected: Intense Nipple Arousal Or Torture?

I had a long, hot call from “D” last night which left me so sore that I couldn’t take any more calls.

Along with his special training, “D” opted to add the tit torture of sp & a (which is what I now call sandpaper and rubbing alcohol — because it hurts so much for so long that I can no longer even bear to say the words).

Since “D” made me sp & a my breasts & nipples, per Blackie’s rules I had to apply another application of liquid fire (the “a”) before bed. And that sealed a night of discomfort on hot aching 36 Es that seem to be everywhere — except anyplace comfortable. This, along with my other aches & pains, made me quite tired when I got up in the morning for my scheduled meeting.

While Blackie’s away, one of my tasks every morning when I wake is to apply K-Y’s new Intense Arousal Gel For Her to my nipples — and film myself rubbing it in on my cell and send the video to him. This way, he knows when I am awake and he gets the thrill of knowing my nipples still rise for him.

Being sore and tired I didn’t really think about what could happen when I started to apply the gel this morning. Normally it just feels good and slippery, the “arousing benefits” aren’t really noticed for a few minutes after my nipples are soaking in it, so to speak. Then it just keeps them “interested” & standing at attention (as if they weren’t already sluts!) for a few hours. But today, as I applied the two instructed drops and began filming my solo-nipple play for a delayed audience, I felt something right away…

At first it was cool & minty — but then it began to sting. Not just surface sting, but deeper too.

When I sent the two video files to Blackie’s phone, I texted him that this was not the usual Intense experience — that this time, Intense was too intense.

The result? Well, it certainly wasn’t pity!

I was instructed to take my shower, followed by the required alcohol bath (because you can’t do it the other way around — the skin has to be kept hot and sore as well as clean!), and then apply more of the gel — video-emailing him as proof.

I dutifully suffered through and then dressed for a morning meeting — one that “D” was already amused thinking about me, with my sore used self-conscious body, standing before a conservative male audience. (Let’s just say it was far worse than even he envisioned.) And then I had more to do for Blackie.

He wasn’t done with me or my nipples yet.

Once the meeting had ended, from the bathroom stall in the client’s building, I had to video myself applying more of the arousing gel, send it to him and then call him when I got back to my office.

“So, what bra did you stuff those sore tits into?”

“One of my t-shirt bras.”

“To stabilize ‘em, hmm?” he knowingly laughed.

“You know it,” I replied.

“So the gel hurts my poor baby, hmm? But I bet those slutty nipples of yours are still standing up, begging for more.”

“Amazingly, even with this softly lined or padded bra, you can still see ‘em poking out through my blouse — I had to leave my jacket on in that warm office or risk looking like a slut.”

“Not looking like just any slut — looking like the slut you are,” he mocked. “But we’d better give those nipples what they want…”

“You mean washing them off? I’m not sure if even soap and water would remove this gel — it’s like an oil. It seeps right in there. I don’t think it would be worth the agony of scrubbing them.”

“Get rid of it? Why would we do that? I was thinking of applying some more…”

“No,” I laughed, “I think they are just fine.”

He lowered his tone a notch and softly growled into the phone, “I’m not joking. Pop out those sore titties and let’s torture those nipples some more.”

I paused.

“Now, Pinkie.”

With a sigh I began to gingerly remove my tender breasts from their holding place. I fumbled for the K-Y Intense tube in my purse and, as I dispensed two drops onto the index finger of my left hand, I tried one hopeless last-ditch effort to spare myself. “Are you sure? They sting pretty bad…”

Now it was his turn to sigh — a warning sigh.

So I gently placed the minty oily gel onto my left nipple where it oozed with a sizzle. I swear it sizzled, but Blackie claimed he couldn’t hear it — not over my own hiss.

“Really rub it in; pinch and twist hard,” he commanded.

“I’m trying, but it’s slippery,” I whined.

“And it hurts, right?”

“Oh gawd yes,” I moaned back at him.

He sighed again, but one of those contented dick-in-his hand sighs.

“Are you masturbating?”

“Damn right I am. It’s been days since I fucked you and looking at the videos I was imaging your cute coos, but hearing them now… ug.”

“Is that your way of saying you miss me,” I giggled — pleased to be rising up above the physical hurt on a little cloud of affection.

“Yeah, baby — do the other one now.”

I dispensed two more drops on my right nipple & began rubbing, pinching and twisting the gel into it. I must have been making little noises of complaint & injustice, because Blackie said, “I love your little whispered grunty groans, my slut.”

“It hurts…” I breathed into the phone — nonsensically explaining what he already knew.

“If I can’t be there to elicit them personally, at least I can force them this way,” he breathed back.

“I love you too, Blackie.”

“Then show me, baby — get real rough with both of those hurting nipples. Make me come with those moans and groans of yours. Show me how much you love me, how much pain you’ll take for me…”

Thankfully it was lunch for everyone in the office — because knowing I was pleasing Blackie added passionate volume to the low hiss of my whimpers and I voiced my nipples’ displeasure with their treatment loud enough that I’m sure anyone just outside my office door could have heard.

It didn’t take too long, and Blackie grunt-groaned his release.

Satisfied with himself (and my dutiful service), he left me the following instructions:

* to video myself reapplying the gel at 4 PM and every 2 hours after (and email him the videos)
* to post a few of the videos here for Master Members

And then he ended the call with the reminder that I’m not allowed to masturbate unless it’s directed by a Master on the phone. “Just want to make sure you’re waiting & real good for them.” I could hear his wink, even if I couldn’t see it.

“And Pinkie?”

“Yes, Blackie?”

“I do miss you, my little cock slut — I love you.”

Member Masters, enter your password below to open the Bound Post to see the three videos and get an update on Pinkie’s condition.

(If you are not a Member Master & do not have the password to see all protected or Bound Posts, here’s how you get it.)

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

D/s PSA

I’m back, but Blackie isn’t. I had meetings on Monday & Blackie stayed for a conference — possibly some meeting on the coast too. I don’t expect him back until Thursday at the earliest. He has left me, however, with specific instructions & tasks for while he is away…

One of which is to tell you of our Saturday night.

After dinner with some colleagues of his, Blackie drove the rental car downtown. I thought he was looking for some bars, but he pulled into an alley and told me to position myself up against one of the old brick walls — back arched, ass up and out, while he stuck his hand beneath my skirt and rubbed along my pussy lips. Assuring I was nice and wet (not to mention a bit buzzed from the wine at dinner), he ordered me to get on my knees & suck his cock.

I knelt before him in the dirty alley while he took his cock out of his suit pants. I had just begun sucking his cock when we heard voices. I stopped and looked in the direction the voices came from — Blackie told me to keep sucking while he turned his head toward the intruders and taunted, “Like what you see boys?”

Out of the shadows at the end of the alley were a group of three men — kids, just about. They stopped dead in their tracks & just looked at the man in a dark suit getting his dick serviced by some chick on her knees.

I was nervous, but kept on sucking Blackie’s cock.

One of the men walked forward for a closer look — the other two moved quickly to catch up and remain a pack.

I don’t think they knew if I was in trouble or not. And if I was, maybe they weren’t the type to help anyway. Such thoughts distracted me — at least enough that Blackie knew I wasn’t focused entirely on his cock. “Suck it, slut,” he said impatiently before returning his attention to the men.

“Bet you punks wished you had a slut like this, don’t you?” he gloated.

One of the boys nodded. The one in the front, the leader, I guess, just folded his arms and firmly stood his ground.

“Pop your tits out, Pinkie,” Blackie instructed, “Let ‘em have a nice look.”

I stopped sucking and looked up at him — what was he thinking?! When he didn’t even look at me, something about his set jawline told me I should just do as I was told. So I silently unbuttoned my blouse, lifted each breast out from its black lace bra cup and then, cautiously but dutifully, went back to sucking Blackie’s cock.

The boys watched, one of them let out a whistle, tents forming in their jeans.

“Yeah, she’s a real cock slut,” Blacke bragged. “Here, let me show you…” he turned to look down at me before continuing, “Back up against the wall, bitch.”

I scrambled to my feet and returned to the wall again. Back arched, ass up & out. Putting my back to the group of men was frightening, but at least they couldn’t see my face this way.

I felt Blackie’s hand on my ass, sliding its way down to the hem of my short skirt, then hiking it up exposing two thin black garters running down my bare backside above black stockings. Then with the aplomb & flourish of a sideshow barker he called the boys in for a closer look. “Come see, boys.” Then he slid his fingers along my wet folds for a few seconds before plunging them into my pussy before holding up his hand, showing off his shiny fingers, slick with my juices. “Mmm,” he said as he sucked his fingers clean in his mouth.

If the boys made a noise I didn’t hear it over the sound of my blood pounding in my temples.

I didn’t turn my head, but I heard (or felt) the men move closer. Inside I was praying to Blackie, “Let’s just leave, please!” But Blackie was in no rush. I turned my head to plead at him with my eyes but Blackie just grinned at me and then, still grinning, turned to the group and said, “I’d love to let you try it yourselves, boys, but I don’t want to be criminally responsible for underage boys getting serviced in an alley.”

Just past Blackie’s shoulder I could see at least two of the boys fumbling for wallets — presumably to show ID. Blackie laughed and dismissed them with a wave, “Punks like you have had those fake IDs for years.”

Then he half-turned to me, slapped my bare bottom and said, “Get in the car, Pinkie, we’ll have to find someplace a bit more private - or at least without minors drooling about.”

The boys moaned and aw-manned while I quickly & wordlessly walked to the car and got in. “Show’s over, boys,” Blackie said as he joined me in the car and turned the key in the ignition. Just as we passed the boys, he pressed the button lowering the window on the rental car’s driver’s side and said, “If you want your own hot slutty bitch to service you anywhere, stay in school boys.” And then he drove off.

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Wednesday, May 13th, 2009

Protected: Looks Can Be Deceiving, Or A Tale Of Two Calls

When I have callers at NiteFlirt, I don’t just talk about what they’d do to me or only role play stories; I carry out orders. So when my caller from Norway wanted to spank me with a wooden hairbrush, I gave myself every spank as directed. I alternated cheeks, took the stinging pauses, and then spanked myself with the hairbrush again. Once I had hot & stinging cheeks, I spanked myself by hand as he instructed.

This may have only been a few minutes of spanking, but minutes later when Sadistic J called, I was still standing to avoid sitting on a stinging bum.

Sadistic J had me use sandpaper on my nipples, followed by clamping my abraded nipples… The sting continued to grow but I’m so nervous with him I was nearly mute — even when he had me twist the clamps and, with my clamped nipples still twisted, pull my nipples out and hold them there for what seemed an eternity… Then, at his word, I freed my tormented nipples, one at a time, by releasing the clamp, letting my extended nipple snap back (sort of) in place and send my tit to bouncing.

Sadistic J went on his merry way, and I was left sitting on a still achy behind with nipples that continued to increase in stinging sensation. (I knew they would — that’s the evil of sandpaper, it continues to increase it’s painful affects as time passes… And I have not yet applied the liquid horror of rubbing alcohol as Blackie requires.)

Now, if you were to look at both my tits and ass (and members will see quick cell phone snaps below), you would think that it’s my ass that hurts most. Even 30 minutes after the spanking, when the photo was taken, it’s red (a testament to my dedication to following instructions). But my nipples? They look normal. But believe me, they hurt; they feel drafts that not even the candle flame flickers to.

And I expect that stinging to only increase yet (and even more so when I clean them per Blackie’s instructions).

The combination of spanking & nipple punishments has also left me with a wet, throbbing, untouched pussy. For while it shamefully hungers from the spanking and rough breast play, I’m on orders not to touch it until a Master instructs me to.

So here I sit, for at least another hour, both hoping for and fearing a call…

My selfish cunt wants the attention (and the orgasm!), but my ass and especially my nipples fear what else a caller might have done to them… Of course, the fear is thrilling, so it only makes my pussy hungrier.

And I can’t forget about any of this because the sensations are too strong.

Like I said to Sadistic J when saying goodbye at the end of our call, “I’ll be stinging of you…”

Member Masters, enter the password to see the photos. (If you don’t have a password, learn how to unlock the Bound Posts.)

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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Friday, May 8th, 2009

May Is Masturbation Month (And So Far I Hate It)

May may be Masturbation Month — a celebration of sexuality & self-love — but the way it’s being done here, I loath it.

Along with being humiliatingly forced to watch Blackie masturbate, I’ve been forbidden to masturbate. At first my sore breasts kept me from even thinking about it, but now…

And, as usual, Blackie has found new & cruel ways to exploit what I’m calling my Blue Ovaries.

After having been forced to watch Blackie masturbate as he humiliated me (one of several times that day), I was told to strip and then he cuffed me to a desk chair, tied each ankle to a part of the chair’s base (so that my legs were spread), wheeled out into the living room and made to watch porn — porn that I love — with him.

That would have been bad enough, but Blackie had to add his own painful, humiliating twists…

First he mocked me, talking about what scenes he knew I loved — where I’d be masturbating and how. He even came up and looked between my spread legs, commenting on the glistening evidence of my slutty shame.

When he grew sleepy, about 30 minutes later, he got up off the couch, switched off the porn, and placed a rope with a cowbell on it around my neck.

“Now, I’m going to bed — but I can’t trust that you’ll behave yourself…” he said as he bent and — for the first time in a week! — he fingered my wet slit. “Not this wet, I can’t, cunt,” he continued. “So, I”m leaving you here where you can’t break any rules — but don’t worry, I’m leaving you this bell. When you have to pee, you wake me.”

He stopped for a minute, had me suck his finger clean of my pussy juices, then continued.

“But I wouldn’t be too eager to wake me, if I were you… It might put me in a foul mood to be disturbed just for your stupid needs. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Then again, I might not hear the bell right away, so don’t wait too long to use it either,” he said with a wicked laugh. Then he headed for bed, leaving me sitting in the dark, horny as hell — with a cowbell around my neck.

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Friday, May 8th, 2009

Protected: Torment Continues

Sleeping sucked; every time I rolled over, I woke up due to such sore and sensitive breasts. It reminded me of how much I dreaded another shower (even if it was cooler than the one I’d just had) — and wearing clothes. What bra could possibly be comfortable? So even though sleeping was horrid, I was dreading getting up.

===

I managed to make it through a cooler shower. I dried off and dabbed my tender breasts as best I could to minimize the pain.

I went to the medicine chest for what I imagined was my only hope for some comfort, Whoop-Ass Healing Balm. But the tube was gone — in fact, Blackie had cleared the entire house of any & all lotions and creams. No wonder he got up so damn early this morning.

So next it was time to suffer the torment of stuffing angry raw skin into bra cups. Nothing lacy (that would be unbearable!); something with large soft cups to snuggly hold them, so there’s be the least amount of rubbing from the bra and clothing worn over it.

If I solved my immediate breast discomfort, I knew it would only be a few hours until I met Blackie for lunch.

He’d said not to be late, so I knew he had something in mind.

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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  • Pinkie and Blackie...
    The colors of our love... Not just our shopping (which is what primarily what will be covered still at the old blog), but the colors that I as a pain slut prefer to wear...


    I am not called Pinkie because my coloring is naturally pink -- but I am naturally a pain slut, and love to be made pink from spankings & other physical abuse which leaves marks, welts, and, sometimes, cuts... Blackie also thrills to make me flush pink with shame, humiliation and arousal.


    He was called Blackie long before I met him.

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