Cabin Trip Ch 01

As I climbed into the passenger seat, he handed me my bullet vibrator. I took it, but paused, intrigued. I hadn't expected anything to start just yet. Just as I came to the realization that I'd made a foolish assumption, he gave me a stern look and said "Panties. Now." As a quiver ran through me, I jerked into action, stuffing the vibe down the front of my pants and wedging it between my lips. I didn't look in his direction; I knew he'd fire off instructions when he damn well pleased. As he saw me complete his first instruction efficiently, and then sit at attention, I could hear the smile in his voice as he said "Good girl. Half power." I turned on the vibrator, feeling the blood flush into all my sensitive spots, and set it at half, as instructed. He held out his hand, and didn't have to say a word. I placed the controller in his hand, and he chuckled and started the car.

I suppose I wasn't quite as distracted as I'd expected to be. There's a bit of vibration from any car ride, anyway, and the toy wasn't near full power. He disarmed me by striking up conversation about some of our favorite subjects, mostly various geekery, with the occasional philosophical topic sneaking in there. I never fully relaxed during this, as the vibe would make its presence known when there was a lull in conversation, or when we hit a pothole. I'm pretty sure, after the first one made me yelp a little, that he was aiming directly for them. Nevertheless, I mostly relaxed into the conversation. The presence of the vibe meant that it took my brain just a second or two longer to process anything he said, and that I had a persistent pleasant tingly sensation, but otherwise I could call it a fairly normal ride. Until we got off the highway near the cabin, that is.

I hadn't even noticed where he'd pulled them from (remember that second or two delay on processing anything that happened), but suddenly my nipple clamps landed in my lap. These were my favorites because they were adjustable, so they didn't bite too badly, unless you really wanted them to. They were his favorites because they had a chain linking them, which he loved to make me put weights on. He never put them on himself; I think he liked watching the series of expressions that went across my face as I anticipated the tug, attempted to put them on as gently as possible, and then startled in surprise, which happened every time, no matter how many times I'd gone through the process. I guess I was a bit slow, though, because although I knew their arrival meant I should put them on, I heard his stern voice again: "Now." I hurried into action, pausing momentarily when I realized that we were stopped at a light, and the people in nearby cars would be able to tell what I was doing, but I didn't slow down much, because I knew that he would have already considered that, and clearly it pleased him. His voice relaxed, but he warned me, "you'd better have them on before this light changes." By some miracle (and by skipping the step of putting them on a looser setting than they had been for our last play session - ouch!) I managed to do this. It wasn't a long light. I suddenly was very thoroughly aware of the sensations in my body, and I'm sure my face showed it.

He patted my leg, and then handed me the bag containing the weights. In a very kind and loving tone, he told me to put on one each time we stopped at a light. Very meekly, I squeaked out a "Yes, Sir." Suddenly he was rewarded with a startled moan of pleasure, as he dialed up the intensity on the vibrator. I'd forgotten he had the controller. The increased sensation caused more blood to push against my nipples, which were already uncomfortably clamped on the too-tight setting. That resulted in my moan of pleasure getting bitten off by a little whimper of pain competing for my attention.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's because you're a little slut, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you think I do this because you like it?"

"No, Sir."

"That's right. Why do I do it?"

"Because it pleases you, Sir."

"Exactly. And what are you?"

"Your plaything, Sir."

"Good girl. Don't forget it."

"Yes, Sir. I won't, Sir."

The vibrator settled a bit as we came to a stop at a light. A little piece of my brain was flagging me that I was supposed to do something, but through my haze, I couldn't quite remember what it was, until my hand hit the weights in my lap. Oh, right! I couldn't risk pausing to even think about doing it softly, because the time it took me to remember my instruction had already probably eaten up any wiggle room he might have been willing to provide. The weight was up off my lap, under my shirt, and hanging from the chain in no time flat. I let out a small wail of pain as it jerked on my nipples, and continued to whimper slightly as the light changed and the car's vibrations caused it to swing and tug. When he noticed my arms pressing my breasts inward to reduce the bouncing, he chided me. "Ah, ah. Arms against the seat back. Keep your hands on the seat next to your legs unless you're adding weight." This process repeated a few times as we followed the GPS directions to the cabin. All the while, he played the vibrator up and down, laughing at my responses to all the stimuli.

By this point, I was completely unaware of my surroundings, desperately trying to cling to enough consciousness to continue to follow instructions. His words made it through my haze, though it took me a minute to parse what he said. "A few people have noticed you, sitting there acting like a damn whore. Think I should open the windows so they can hear you, too?"

"N-no, Sir," I managed to stammer out. "I- I think I might get the-- mm" (he chose that moment to kick up the vibrator; he loved making me force my way through a sentence.) "the... wrong kind... of... attention..." I managed to get the rest of the sentence out, then had to use all my focus to keep myself from cumming, which was, naturally, allowed only when it pleased my Sir.

"Hmm," he said, with that devilish air of nonchalance he used when he had a plan to torment me further. "I think you're right. You'd better be careful not to make any noise, then." I heard the windows slide down just as we arrived at a stoplight, and my breathing became about 5 times faster as I desperately tried to get the next weight on without making further noise. He'd turned the vibrator back down to around half while talking to me, and he now shot it up to full power in a fraction of a second. I clenched down on the moan that desperately wanted to escape me and just barely managed to keep it from being audible, purely by the physical force of not allowing any air through my windpipe. With all of that, my hand had been shaking as I tried to put the weight on, and I hadn't noticed that it had dropped without catching the chain.

"I'm disappointed in you."

"What? Why, Sir?"

As we pulled away from the light, he said "figure it out," just as the GPS announced that our destination was in about a mile on the right. I looked around, and saw that there was a weight sitting on my lap. "Sir, is that the weight I just tried to add?"

"Yes, cunt, it is. Better try again." I quickly picked it up and got it on the chain, and bit down on my whimper as we passed a family with small kids; I didn't want those parents to have something odd to explain. "I think we'll take the scenic route. You've got too many of those weights left in the bag, and clearly you're not really trying to wear them. We'll need to work on that." He drove on past the entrance for the cabin check-in, and the GPS started jabbering about U-turns and recalculating. He laughed at my struggle as I worked furiously to keep enough focus to maintain all my instructions: not making noise, keeping my hands to the seat, and adding weight at every stoplight. I was getting a bit of a handle on it, but it was very definitely turning me into a pile of putty, and fast. "Oh, a gravel road! That looks fun!" He joyfully turned onto it, and I have to admit, I don't remember much of the rest of the ride.

I do remember the vibrator turning off completely as we pulled into the parking lot at the administration booth. Sir watched me as I slowly became more aware of my surroundings. "I think you'd better stay in the car while I go get us checked in. I bet you're sitting in a puddle." I thought for a second, and admitted that I was. "Good girl. Keep your hands on the seat. I'll be back in a minute."