TooMuch4One

I got myself a labia spreader and it’s driving me crazy…

They’re this nifty little things that, well, spread your labia. Besides the obvious exposing your clit to all kinds of stimulation (especially while wearing denim over it, ugh), the feeling of having labia spread all the time is a thing on it’s own.

I bought one for a couple of bucks and tried it immediately when it got delivered. It’s so mean! I never even thought of what the part that gets inserted might feel like but damn…

It stretched me but left me wide open and empty at the same time. While pressing a sweet spot in me at the same time. It’s just. You’re empty but not. You’re exposed but not feeling anything on the outside. And damn. Moving? Wearing it under clothes? Denim is the best kind of bad.

You’re at your desk when you get an email. You see the subject line “mine”. Curious you open it and find a cryptic message.

“Blouse and blue jeans. Not acceptable for a sub. Tomorrow it’s a dress. Reply that you understand”.

You have no idea who sent it. You don’t recognize the email. Everything in you wonders who could possibly know your thoughts, your fantasies, who knows what you want to try.

You go home that night wondering, thinking how crazy that was. You wake up and get dressed. You aren’t even thinking about it until you sit to eat your breakfast but you look and you have a dress on. Your heart races. “Did I do this on purpose?” You think you yourself. “Should I change? He can’t tell me what to wear”. You decide not to change and go into work as normal.

When you arrive at your desk there’s a box. Two words written on it. One simple question. “GOOD GIRL?”

You feel your chest rising. You feel a tingle all over your body. You sit down at your desk and debate whether or not to open it. You finally decide to peek inside. Your eyes widen as you see a remote vibrator sitting there. You quickly close the box before anyone sees.

You check your email and see a new one from the same address. The subject line says “Did you open the box?”. You open the email and the mysterious stranger has written “Prove to me you want this. At 10:00AM go to the restroom and slide the toy inside you. Turn it on. Return to your desk as normal. You can do this”

Can you really do this? Who is doing this? How does he know all of this? Your mind won’t stop. Everything in you should be saying stop but it’s not. You find yourself intoxicated by it, turned on, and you go to the bathroom at 10 and slide the toy in your pussy. You’re already soaked from the thought. You turn it on and head back to your desk. Even on the walk back you’re paranoid people will notice you walk funny. You also wonder who could be doing this, did you just pass them in the hall? Who knows.

Just as you sit back down you feel it, a low vibration inside you. Not strong, just enough to tell you he’s been waiting for you to sit. A gasp spills out of your mouth, your breath quickens, you sit up a little straighter and you just let go. Everything you’ve thought about, being someone’s toy, your pussy being used to please, your body being a canvas of pleasure at a Doms will, it seems to be starting right here at work.

The toy stops vibrating. All you had was the small low vibration and now it stops. You instinctively look around, not sure what you’re looking for, is someone watching you? You stand up, and just as you do it hits you. Full speed vibration. It takes your breath, you moan really loud and quickly catch yourself.

Just as you sit another email appears. “Don’t stand up again, you be a good little slut and just let it happen”.

The vibrations star pulsating, low to high in rapid succession. It almost feels like someone pounding a cock in and out of you rapidly. Your breath is short and fast, you can feel yourself blushing. Lip biting isn’t helping. Your hands grab your desk and hold on for a minute while your body tries to adjust to the huge vibrations.

As you’re sitting, trying to handle paperwork the vibration assault continues to work harder and softer in changing patterns. You hear a voice beside you and quickly look up. You wonder how long they’ve been there, did they notice you gripping the desk and moaning? The coworker reminds you there’s a staff meeting and it’s time to go. Now you’re really nervous. What do you do? You decide to walk to the staff room for the meeting. As you get up to walk the vibration locks on full power. Your knees go weak. You are smiling and you aren’t sure why. You manage to walk and find your seat at the table. You sit up straight and hope no one hears it. You’re a wet throbbing mess between your legs and you feel like you could cum at any given moment. It starts pulsating again. Slowly up and down. If feels so good you want to moan and scream out but you can’t.

The meeting starts and you aren’t listening at all. All you have are feelings building Inside you. Your pussy is aching, your muscles are twitching. You feel vibrations from your belly to your thighs. You also know you’re dripping wet, more excited than you’ve ever felt in your entire life and you can’t make a single sound. Your mind is going in a thousand directions when suddenly you hear your name. It’s a coworker from HR. He looks at you and grins. You wonder why he’s smiling.

He says “I’ll repeat the question because you seem to be lost over there in your own world. Are you going to come? If you’re going to come you need to tell me”

His smile, his eyes, you immediately know that whatever he’s asking has double meaning. You ask “I’m sorry, what am I coming to??”

He nods and says “The new payroll system is coming in and I need you in my office for training every afternoon, can you do that for me? Can you come?”

You smile and say “Yes Sir I’m coming”

You let it go. Your body tightens, your pussy goes crazy and your thighs feel like they are shaking off of your body. You quietly cum sitting in your chair. You’ve Never cum this strongly and somehow you manage not to make a sound. You know your face is red but at this point you don’t care. You sit like a good girl and you just feel wave after wave hit you.

It feels like spring🥰🌷

She was a repressed and sheltered girl.  She had been raised to be chaste, and with that had come shyness.  She dressed modestly.  She didn’t make eye contact with boys.  She knew that there were no wild parties, no drunken flings, and absolutely no sex before marriage in her future.  She never touched her own cunt - she had done so once, and it felt so deliciously good that she had cried and jerked her hand away and pinched her nipples painfully as punishment for being sinful.  Life changed for her when she started riding the morning C-train to her entry-level secretarial job.  Her job was in a part of the city dominated by male professionals.  Every morning she was surrounded by anonymous men in suits, packed like sardines.  She liked to stand near the window, where she could see out, and it didn’t feel so claustrophobic, but once she was there it was almost impossible to turn or move until the train came to a stop. On her very first morning, she felt a stranger’s hand slip under her skirt and begin to stroke her thighs.  She squeaked, and blushed, but then was silent.  The man had pulled her skirt halfway up her legs.  If anyone looked at her they’d see.  She bit her lip and hoped it would stop. But it did not stop.  Her skirt was lifted higher, and then she felt a hand between her legs, stroking the crotch of her panties.  She clamped her thighs together but that only trapped the hand between them.  She made a quiet little mewling noise of distress. The trapped hand wriggled its fingers, getting them under the fabric of her panties, and she felt them touch her pussy.  It was the first time since, presumably, she was a baby that a man had touched her cunt, and she jumped, electrified.  And then moments later the man’s fingers had spread her cunt lips, pushed between, and sunk up to the knuckle in her fuckhole. She moaned in distress.  This was sinful.  She was being finger-raped in public, by a stranger.  She didn’t know what to do.  If she struggled, she would call attention to herself, and everyone would know that a stranger had had his hand up her cunt on a public train.  They would think she was a sinful whore.  So she stayed still, and let the fingers explore her cunt.  She was aware she had become lubricated - in fact, her pussy was gushing with wetness.  She was blushing bright red.  The fingers inside her felt so good.  It was hard not to moan.  They began to slowly fuck in and out of her. To her horror, she felt herself beginning to buck against the hand, trying to push it deeper inside her.  She was helping this stranger to rape her right here on the train.  But she couldn’t help herself.  She felt a sensation growing inside her.  She was horribly certain it was an orgasm, which she had heard about but never experienced.  She wanted it.  She wanted it badly. And then suddenly the train began to slow.  It was approaching a station.  The fingers withdrew quickly from her pussy, and she almost screamed in frustration.  She needed to cum.  She needed to cum *so much*.

That was when the man reached around her, and wiped his hand across her face.  She felt her own sticky cunt nectar smeared across her cheeks and eyes and lips.  And *that* was when she orgasmed. She didn’t see who had abused her.  She left the train flushed and breathing heavily and hoping no one could smell the scent of her sopping wet fuckhole or see her whore honey glistening on her face.  She cleaned herself off at work but spent all day at work thinking about it.  She had been such a sinful whore.  But it had felt so good.  Or… had she been sinful?  She had had no choice.  Someone had just done it *to* her.  Surely it wasn’t her fault if someone did it *to* her?  If she was forced? The next day she could have caught a different train, or a taxi, or a lift with a friend.  But, without admitting she was making a conscious choice, she caught the C-train again.  And once again she was victimised. It was fingers in her cunt again, but this time the fucking was much more vigorous, and she orgasmed with the hand inside her.  Her juices were again wiped on her face afterwards, and this time she didn’t clean them off, thrilling at the feel and smell of the juice on her cheek, electrified by the fear that someone could tell it was there. On the third day, her abuse changed.  Instead of working his hand into her panties, her abuser instead grasped the hem and pulled them down her legs.  She blushed as she was undressed on the public train, and stepped out of them quickly when they hit the floor so no one would see her with her panties around her ankles.  Her abuser then lifted the rear of her skirt and tucked it into its own waistband, and used his knees to nudge her legs apart.  Anyone looking at her would have seen her naked ass and cunt, legs spread, ready to be used.  Then he fingerfucked her to orgasm again.  Afterwards, as the train stopped, she felt as if there were a million judging eyes on her as she rearranged her skirt and bent to collect her underwear. On the fourth day the train was so packed she couldn’t get to the window.  She found herself standing face to face with a handsome young man in a suit.  She was worried / relieved that the treatment she’d received previously wouldn’t happen today, but her attacker was not deterred.  She soon felt the hands under her skirt, and before long she was stepping out of her panties and having her skirt lifted.  Her face was bright red as she stared into the eyes of the man in front of her while she was exposed and violated.  At first she couldn’t tell if he knew what was happening to her, but the fingerfucking was particularly rough today, and soon her body was being thrust back and forth, so that she banged tits-first against the man in front of her on every thrust.  The knowledge that he knew what was happening to her and chose not to stop it made her orgasm quickly, and then a minute later she orgasmed again.