Wednesday morning when I wake up, my clit is sore and tender and my nipples are still a bit sore. This week is going by so slowly. What will the pervert have in mind today? I wonder.
My text alert goes off and I'm told I can wear whatever I choose, as long as I wear the new bra. I hate the No-bra. I feel exposed and nervous every time I wear it and though my nipples feel better today, there is nothing that will help this dilemma.
If I wear a light-colored shirt of any kind, my nipples will look like beacons. If I wear light fabric of any sort, my nipples will be obvious and hard all day. If I choose a sweater, the fibers will irritate my nipples all day... I kick the dresser and scream.
Who was this asshole!? This is so unfair!
Most of my shirts were bought to go with my bras and to accentuate my cleavage. Now, with the No-bra if I accentuate my cleavage, it looks like I'm not even WEARING a bra and it's tacky. V-necks are popular in my closet.
I decide that my red button-up shirt is the least offensive, though it hugs my breasts but it does give more support than my V-necks and lighter fabrics. With black slacks and heels, I feel almost normal.
On the way out the door, my text alert goes off:
"Shelly" -Be sure to band your nipples on the walk to work, slut.
What the fuck!? This shirt is tight enough that my nipples will be like front-facing marbles. What fucking choice do I have!? A painful sweater? Light, airy fabrics that will let my breasts bounce freely and hug my nipples? This is humiliating.
"E-Phone" -Yes, Sir.
A quick trip to the bathroom and there they are, my sore, throbbing marbles. Fuck.
I hurry to work, which as usual now, caused bouncing, and stares from passers-by. What choice do I have? My nipples are on fire and now I'm starting to get wet between my legs. I hate this.
I stand in the elevator next to two men who don't work on my floor. I feel them staring at my breasts like hungry wolves and my face burns with embarrassment. Why the fuck does it take so long to get to my floor!?
My impatience is about to make me scream when the door opens to my floor and I rush to the bathroom to take the bands off. The blood rushes back to my nipples and I cringe, trying not to scream. I clean the wetness from between my legs and head for my cubicle.
There is a manila envelope on my keyboard. Dammit, I just came from the bathroom.
Inside the envelope are a small metal ball that looks like a large marble but heavier and a 12" wooden ruler. The note is typed:
Shelly,
This ball is to be held in your vagina today. It was a slight weight to it, which will require your muscles to hold it in place and fight gravity. Every time throughout the day that it slips out, even while you are using the bathroom, you will spank each side of your ass five times with the ruler. Make it hurt, I want pictures every time you punish yourself. I better see redness.
Hold on tight!
-Sir
I had never tried to hold anything in before, but it didn't seem so hard. I went into a stall and dried things as much as I could before pushing the ball into me. It felt nice nuzzled in there and I squeezed as I walked to hold it in place.
For an hour, I sat at my desk, the ball nuzzled right where it should be and did some data entry that I was behind on. This day would be easier than the others and I felt relieved.
My coworker asked me to get coffee with her and I agreed. I kept squeezing as I walked to the break room. I wasn't expecting what came next.