RagincajunGA's Videos
It's a shit little camera, but I do love the two octave range of grunts and groans!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
SirTom Enterprises, Part X
The next morning Ed and I were on our way to San Francisco. Davey had our tickets and Deuce had agreed to drive us to the airport. We met early Thursday morning by his desk and made our way to the Atlanta nightmare of an airport. Ed and I had thought alike, packing very little in a small suitcase, then putting that suitcase inside a larger suitcase. We had, after all, our $1000 clothing allowance and we both intended to spend every cent.
The long waits through security were typical, but before long we were on the plane in our first class seats with Bloody Marys in front of both of us. It had been a long time since I'd been to San Francisco and the first time I'd gone as a single man. I'd been there through the best of times, and the worst of times, from the hedonistic pre-AIDS days to the post-traumatic days of men afraid to even touch each other. I was anxious to see the city again, and I was thrilled to have Ed along.
The flight was longer than I liked, but thankfully it was a short hop from the airport to our B&B where we were sharing a room. A booze-enhanced nap on the plane had made me raring to go when we got there and we barely made time to drop off our bags in the room, throw on our leather jackets and head for the streets.
We had an appointment at the premiere leather store of San Francisco late that afternoon, but with time on hand we chose to walk, going down Market street from our location in the Castro. We'd walked barely a block before Ed put his hand in mine. It felt so warm and natural, and safe. And only friendly. Ed was a such a good kid and I was really pleased that it was the two of us on this trip.
"You doing okay?" He asked.
"Better than okay. Really fabulous, truth be told. I know I'm supposed to be feeling like shit because of Geo, but I'm not. I'm focused on here and now, this city and you, and how right everything feels. I'm sure I'll grieve some more. But definitely not this weekend."
Ed stopped on the sidewalk and pulled me to him. He gave me a huge hug, a big slurpy kiss, then grabbed my hand and yanked me down the street. We must have looked like two school boys, practically skipping down the street. Arriving at the store I was elated when I walked in. It felt roomy, organized, and oh so pervy. And I felt like I always feel in those types of stores.....pretty much ignored. Three young sales clerks sat behind the counter busy talking amongst themselves. They glanced up when we entered and went immediately back to their conversation. I walked to the counter and interrupted them.
"Hey, kids. We both have appointments with the tailoring department for this afternoon. These were arranged by ST Enterprises. Can you take care of us?"
Dropping names was not my style but it seemed that it made all the difference in the world. Somebody picked up a phone and spoke hastily. In less than a minute a tailor was in front of us, ushering us into a comfortable back room where we were asked to disrobe and the measuring process began. When he finally finished we put our clothes back on and wandered through the store, each of us with our own private clerk more than happy to help us. Ed was like a kid in a candy store. He would have spent his $1000 in no time flat, except he kept finding something on another rack that he wanted even more.
I focused on the hoods. I wasn't seeing any real clothing items I didn't already have in one way or another, but I'm a sucker for hoods. The craftsmanship of their leather hoods was always a turn-on for me and I lifted each and every one from the display shelves. A sales clerk named Tommy was following me around and offering to help try each one on. I finally settled on a padded isolation hood that was made of a buttery leather inside and out with thick padding over the ears, eyes and mouth, and tiny grommets at the nostrils for breathing. Tommy stood behind me and helped me pull it into place. I immediately fell in love. He laced it up tightly and pulled a zippered flap down over the laces. Lastly that flap was locked in place by connecting it to the thick collar surrounding my neck.
From behind me I could just barely make out some hasty whispering. Before I could start to turn two sets of hands had grabbed my arms and a third was lifting my t-shirt over my head. As the shirt was pulled down my arms I tried to struggle, a little panicked, but as the shirt came off, my arms were roughly shoved down sleeves of what could only be a heavy leather straitjacket. With three men working quickly, the straps were done up tight and I was shoved into a chair and more straps crossed over my torso, arms and waist holding me rigidly to the chair. My legs were still free and I started to kick. This lasted only briefly as yet more straps held my legs in place. Lastly a strap was placed across my forehead holding my head in place against the headrest of the chair. I thought I could hear more whispering in the background and some giggling that distinctly sounded like Ed.
They left me to stew a bit, and much to my amazement, I realized my cock was straining inside my jeans. I laughed, or at least tried to, inside that magnificent hood, finding it hard to believe how much my cock betrayed me. After only a few minutes I could feel the chair being leaned back and I could feel myself rolling along. I could hear a tinkling of the front door bell and realized I was being rolled outside. And just outside the door the chair came to a rest. I realized I was serving as sidewalk advertising!
Clueless as to how much time passed, I was finally rolled back indoors and the unstrapping process began. When at last the jacket and hood were off, I could see Ed standing far away, laughing almost hysterically.
"I will get even, you little prick!"
"I can only hope so!"
I purchased the hood, but not the straitjacket. Ed had spent his $1000 and nearly another $1000 on a variety of leather and rubber jeans and shirts. They'd given both of us good discounts for helping with their advertising for the day (and more likely for the hefty amount ST Enterprises was spending on the custom bondage suits).
With Ed's arms full and me unwilling to help carry all his new purchases we opted for a cab back to the B&B. True to his remarkable care for us, SirTom had placed a reservation at a very nice and very reclusive restaurant up in Nob Hill. We'd brought suits and after showering dressed to the teeth for our meal. Another cab ride and we arrived 10 fashionable minutes late. Once again, Ed was like a kid in a candy store, gobbling up life and loving every minute of it.
We ordered wine and an appetizer and sat back to drink in the intimate space. There were only 6 tables in the space, 3 for couples and 3 for foursomes. Across the room were four quite openly gay men, also dressed quite nicely. A couple of glances our way and they quickly left us alone. Obviously we hadn't measured up to their rigid standards. Again, I was bothered as I had been in the leather store.
"What's wrong?" Ed asked.
"Just thinking. Just wondering why gay men are so quick to look each other up and down and pass quick judgment." I thought Ed was oblivous to it as he looked at me a little funny. He wasn't oblivious at all.
"You really need to get over that shit. You're bothered because three little faggots in a leather store weren't interested in us until we flashed the money? You're bothered because 4 tight-assed suit queens didn't give you a second look? I have been geek material for my whole life. I have been overlooked so many times I can't begin to count. But I guarantee you I can outsuck, outfuck, and out-fantasize any one of those dickwads. I learned long ago that the only men who interest me are the ones who get hard smelling rubber or leather or see a rope dangling in front of them. Yeah, certain guys turn me on by their looks, but what they DO is all that really matters to me."
"How'd you get to be so smart?" I smiled at him.
"Good breeding."
I laughed and decided to focus only on Ed for the evening. This was a man I was lucky to call a friend. As we were finishing our entree Ed excused himself to go to the restroom. The four suit queens were walking out the door at the same time. The tallest and stockiest of the bunch came back in for a second and walked briskly over to the table where I was alone. He placed a hand on my shoulder, held out a business card and said simply, "I've seen your work and I'm a big fan. Please call me."
He turned without another word and was gone. Ed came bounding back from the restroom as I slipped the card into my pocket. I think I managed to close my jaw before he sat down. The very thing I had mentioned to SirTom as my fear had come somewhat true. I had been recognized. I took a deep breath and I reminded myself that there was no cause for alarm.
Ed was antsy and wanted to move on. "C'mon! Let's pay the bill and hit the road!"
In a quick discussion with the waiter we discovered that entire meal and tip had been taken care of by "an admirer." Ed was dying to know who. I wasn't ready to tell him who had forked out probably $400 on us. He assumed it was SirTom. I was pretty sure it wasn’t.
We took a cab back to the Castro area and strolled a bit before walking in to one of the local bars. It turned out to be a rather fun time as we sat there in our suits and ties watching many other businessmen walk about the bar. We began to play little fantasy games of deciding which businessman would look best all tied up, which businessman would struggle the most, which businessman "needed" it the most. We were pretty well looped by the time we stumbled back to the B&B.
Once in the room, Ed seemed to sober up quickly, or hide the drunkenness better than I. He took charge and had me naked in no time. He pushed me to the bathroom and demanded I brush my teeth and pee and present myself for inspection. When I returned from the bathroom he took one of my over-the-calf silk socks and proceeded to tie my hands behind my back. He then took my new hood from the shopping bag and laced and zipped and locked it on my head. With a little shove, he pushed me on the king-size bed.
He crawled on top of me and practically shouted in my ear,
"I gotta make sure you don't rape me while we sleep!"
He left, presumably to do his teeth and take a piss, and before I knew it I could feel him spooning me from behind. My hands, tightly tied behind my back, found his semi-hard dick and held on, no stroking, just holding. He wrapped his arms around me, moving even closer, and, I think, we both fell fast asleep.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Wow, Part II
Yesterday was a terrific day, playing with hubby and the pup. Main focus: flogging. Say what you want, see it from whatever perspective works for you, but for me and the hubby flogging has become the most intimate exchange we have. He truly hits the mountaintop, releases waves of endorphins, and we bond in a deep way that is downright religious. Plus, scoff if you will, when it really works, really and truly and deeply, he gives off this incredible scent, right in the middle of his back, just between the shoulder blades. I was trying to describe it to pup as the flogging scene approached. I called it my "ambrosia", the drink of the Greek Gods. It's a combination of endorphins, sweat, fear, maybe a drop of blood, and the molecules of leather and rubber from the floggers mixed in. I swear to you I smell something totally different than any other scent in the world. And it's intoxicating.
No pics from yesterday. But suffice it to say, it was a great day for hubby, and a pretty darn good day for pup. Every time we play, I learn. I learn pup's pathways, his walls, his needs, his cravings, more about his headspace. And I know he learns as well. His frustrations are so recognizable, but his hunger more than overcomes them.
Today was supposed to be simple. A little bondage play......but here's the "wow." This little pup slipped into the "boy" headspace at breakneck speed. Within minutes of arriving I thought he was going to hyperventilate. We did a nice bondage scene with a pre-built web in the playroom. And he dripped mightily through his jock and the singlet. And his nipples started responding. And his dick was craving the smacks. And he said magic words: "Spank me."
We went a long way. He was weak, I was tired. But a 2nd wind came over us. More bondage, a blindfold, and WHAM he's back in the headspace......and rock hard. And now to a simple hogtie...and some hot wax. This is the first time I've heard real, deep, gutteral groans from the boy. After covering his butt, I turned him over and covered his chest and stomach. I was rewarded with a little knowledge about this boy's turn-ons when he shot 7 magnificent arcs across his belly.
Of course one of my favorite moments with this boy is when he showers and joins me in the "decompression" phase. We talk a bit, maybe just relax a bit. Today I got a hammer in the middle of the forehead. It's the basic "reality-hammer-in-the-middle-of-the-forehead" with two solid swings: With both of us traveling in the near future we won't get to see each other until mid-August. And the pup has a big change in job responsibilities which is going to make his schedule a lot less flexible than it's been for the last six weeks.
I need to head out now. I'm buying a lottery ticket. All this work shit really gets in the way of the important things in life.
No pics from yesterday. But suffice it to say, it was a great day for hubby, and a pretty darn good day for pup. Every time we play, I learn. I learn pup's pathways, his walls, his needs, his cravings, more about his headspace. And I know he learns as well. His frustrations are so recognizable, but his hunger more than overcomes them.
Today was supposed to be simple. A little bondage play......but here's the "wow." This little pup slipped into the "boy" headspace at breakneck speed. Within minutes of arriving I thought he was going to hyperventilate. We did a nice bondage scene with a pre-built web in the playroom. And he dripped mightily through his jock and the singlet. And his nipples started responding. And his dick was craving the smacks. And he said magic words: "Spank me."
We went a long way. He was weak, I was tired. But a 2nd wind came over us. More bondage, a blindfold, and WHAM he's back in the headspace......and rock hard. And now to a simple hogtie...and some hot wax. This is the first time I've heard real, deep, gutteral groans from the boy. After covering his butt, I turned him over and covered his chest and stomach. I was rewarded with a little knowledge about this boy's turn-ons when he shot 7 magnificent arcs across his belly.
Of course one of my favorite moments with this boy is when he showers and joins me in the "decompression" phase. We talk a bit, maybe just relax a bit. Today I got a hammer in the middle of the forehead. It's the basic "reality-hammer-in-the-middle-of-the-forehead" with two solid swings: With both of us traveling in the near future we won't get to see each other until mid-August. And the pup has a big change in job responsibilities which is going to make his schedule a lot less flexible than it's been for the last six weeks.
I need to head out now. I'm buying a lottery ticket. All this work shit really gets in the way of the important things in life.
Friday, July 16, 2010
SirTom Enterprises, Part IX
“Growl, bark, back away.” The voice in my ear would become my link to the world over the next 48 hours.
“GRRRRRRRR. WOOF!” I slowly backed away from Danny raising my head, balancing a bit on my knees only, then running behind the kennel.
“Excellent. You’ll receive tiny shocks multiple times today. An overreaction is called for as if the shock is debilitating.”
“Bad dog!” Danny slapped the riding crop against his boot. I cowered in the corner. “Get out here, now!” Another slap of the riding crop. Danny reached to his waist and pulled two items loose, a leash and the collar’s remote control. He was slowly creeping up to me where I was wedged behind the kennel.
“Grrrrrrrr. Grrrrrrrrr.” I kept growling the closer he got. I finally felt I had to attack. As I lunged at his hand, he pressed the button on the remote control. Instantly a shock went into my neck
“Arrrr. Arrrr. Arrrrr.” I wailed and whimpered and fell on my side.
Swiftly Danny stepped up and attached the leash to the built in external-collar of the suit. He jerked on the leash and I could feel my air supply cut off for a second. It was enough to get my full attention and stop my whimpering.
“That’s better, Bolt.” Danny helped roll me back on to my knees and elbows, something it was almost impossible to do on my own in that damn gimp suit. “Good dog.” I felt a little scratch behind my right ear. Even through the thick rubber I could feel the positive reinforcement of such a gesture.
By now I figured we’d been live on-line for about 3 hours. That meant 5 more hours today, 12 hours tomorrow and a final 8 hours on Wednesday. I really wondered how I was going to make it that long. I had never been challenged like this, at least not to this magnitude. I knew one thing—it was going to take a little soul-searching and a lot of that muscle relaxant.
For the next two hours I did my best “bad dog” act. SirTom was kind and encouraging but I knew I was turning in a shit performance. I’d peed in a corner and received my punishment. I’d shown my disinterest in playing with the toys. I’d growled and barked and whined and whimpered, but even I knew it was a half-ass act.
“Time for puppy to get a nap. Danny, put him in the kennel with food and water. Refill the water bowl with the ‘special formula’. Alan, please drink a lot of this water. The muscle relaxant is a little stronger and might help you relax in the role just a bit more. Don’t worry, we’re doing fine. The client has written several times expressing his pleasure and suggesting some activities he’d like to see over the next couple of days. Right now ‘Bolt” needs a nap. We’ll pick up the activities in a couple of hours.”
We followed SirTom’s orders completely. Danny removed the gag. A small transparent straw was in the water bowl and I was able to get the water down me quickly. I was thirsty and I trusted SirTom to help me in this scene. After drinking the ‘special formula’ I felt a little flush come over me and almost immediately I could feel my entire body relax about 50%. I sighed deeply and rolled over to my back my arms and legs dangling above me in their rubber restraints.
“I’m sure you feel better by now. Good. While you’re relaxed I just want to make a few suggestions. First and foremost, stay relaxed. You don’t have to ‘make’ anything happen in this scene. You’re being a ‘pushy bottom’ right now trying to keep control of the scene. Let it go. Instead of trying to ‘act’ just let your mind throw away all the garbage of your life and open yourself up to possibilities. You’re thinking too much, definitely not puppy thoughts, either. All you need to care about is food, water, freedom, and reward. The punishment phase will continue for a bit, nothing extreme, but over the next day and a half Danny will begin to ‘rebuild’ you into a compliant, happy, loyal dog. Go with the flow. I’m proud of you, Alan, for taking on this huge challenge. If it helps, during your puppy dreams, think of the upcoming four days in San Francisco.”
The man was a genius, and I don’t apply that term often. He could see inside me, inside the client, and manipulate the world with gentle nudging and subtle reinforcement, all coated with that honey-coated quicksilver voice. I closed my eyes and conjured images of Coit Tower, Castro Street, and the images quickly gave way to Folsom Street, the Mr. S leather store, and I fell into happy sleep. At one point I even saw myself walking through Golden Gate Park. Walking with me was Danny, holding a leash that led to my neck. I could feel my body in the gimp suit, but we walked briskly, the cool air rushing over my rubbered skin.
I awoke to find the kennel door open. Danny had placed his boot on my erect penis and was massaging it with strong circular motions of the boot sole. I began to whimper and pant heavily. All of a sudden the boot was removed and I gasped. I rolled over to my puppy legs and wobbled out of the kennel. Danny was standing there, his tall boots shimmery. I trotted over to him and climbed his leg. I wanted my penis against his boots, to finish the job he had started. Standing only on my knees I thrust my torso against him and began to rub my frustrated penis against his leg. I could feel myself nearing orgasm in almost no time. And a huge jolt filled my body, but not a jolt of the joyous release of pent up sperm, but the punishment jolt from my collar.
I released Danny’s leg and fell to the floor crying out, screaming, whimpering, rolling from one side of my back to the other. Danny reached down and slapped my hard dick. “Bad dog. Bad, bad, dog.” He slipped the leash onto my collar and yanked me to my puppy legs. Over the next hour he taught me to heel, to sit, to lay down. And I gave up trying to make things happen in the scene. I gave myself over to Danny and I followed his lead. I forgot the world around me. All I wanted was Danny to give me just one more scratch behind the ear, to give me one more treat, to say the words “Good boy. Good dog. Good, Bolt.”
Danny even took me outside and taught me to pee only when taken outside. My quick learning earned me more rewards. We finished the day with me sitting happily at Danny’s feet, him scratching behind my ears, occasionally under my chin. It had been a hard day. The last moments of the day I was taken to the kennel, released from the leash, and the kennel door was locked. A few minutes later the lights were turned off.
“We’re done for the day. Please get Alan released quickly. I’ll be on the set in a few minutes.”
Danny and Freddie from wardrobe came on the set and helped me out of the suit. The groan that escaped from me when I was finally free was scary. They had to help me to my feet and help me just walk around for a few minutes to get some circulation back in my extremities. Freddie handed me a bottle of Gatorade before heading to clean out the suit and make any necessary repairs before I went back in it tomorrow.
SirTom arrived a few minutes later and told Danny to go ahead, that he’d bring me to the showers in a few minutes. I was seated on the edge of a stool, happily gulping the Gatorade. SirTom came up behind me and started to lightly massage my naked shoulders. I damn near melted. I hadn’t realized how much tension I was carrying despite the regular doses of the muscle relaxant.
“You did a very fine job today, Alan. I’m proud of you.”
“I really missed the boat, didn’t I, SirTom. I mean, at first. I started to actually have fun the last couple of hours. It was really simple then. Just being open to possibilities. It freed me. And again, I have you to thank for that, SirTom. Just like the genderfuck suit, you really pushed my limits, made me step up to the plate and face a challenge.”
“Some men never know their capabilities, never live even 5% of their dreams. You are such a wonderful man, Alan. I hope you receive every reward you deserve, and get to live every single dream you might have.”
What can I give this man in return I kept thinking. He has given me so much and promises me no limits to what I might have tomorrow. How do you repay that? I laughed. Certainly not with a t-shirt.
“Why are you laughing, Alan?”
“SirTom….”
“Go ahead. Tell me.”
“How do I give back? How do I even begin to repay…..”
“Alan. You have. I know you don’t think so, but as I’ve told you before, you’ve enriched my life. And maybe you can continue to do so. Right now I’d like to see you showered, maybe relax for a bit, then I’ll join you for dinner in your dressing room before you get some much needed sleep.
I showered for a very long time, stretching every muscle of my body slowly and thoroughly under the hot water. When I finished I headed back to my dressing room. Hanging there was the most beautiful, deep maroon dressing gown with a subtle pin stripe design. A small note was attached. “My thanks. SirTom.” I pulled the robe on. It slid so effortlessly over my smooth, hairless skin, pure silk sliding sensuously over me. I shivered. This was a beautiful gift and made me feel so human again after 8 hours in the rubber suit.
SirTom knocked at my dressing room door and entered pushing a small rolling table covered with a complete dinner for two. He finished parking the dining tray and pulled up two chairs. Then he turned to me. He had removed his jacket and was wearing nothing but his finely tailored trousers and the silk t-shirt I’d given him. Somehow the lack of a jacket made him seem even smaller, practically a tiny man. He opened his arms and I felt free to approach him and give him a hug.
Silk against silk, he held me close to him for a long time. Neither of us spoke, we just held each other, our breathing falling into a mirrored rhythm. Finally he let me go and escorted me to a seat at the dining table. He opened a bottle of wine and poured each of us a glass. Metal covers were removed from each of the plates revealing a small salad and beautiful braised scallops perched on a bed of yellow rice. “Eat. Drink. We’ll talk more when we’re finished.”
And so, with complete silence we savored an exquisite dinner with wine. Throughout the dinner our eyes met countless times. I tried to start a conversation a couple of times but each time SirTom merely shook his head and said, “After dinner, Alan.” When we finished he led me to a small loveseat in my dressing room. He sat, pulled me down next to him and slowly pulled me into a position where I was curled up on the love seat next to him, my head in his lap. I found myself relaxing completely, a deep, exhilirating, and safe rest. SirTom stroked my head and neck, lightly tweaking the tops of my ears, and I found myself relaxing even further, close to sleep, but not wanting to sleep. I wanted to be held and caressed by this man forever.
After some time SirTom lifted my head from his lap and brought me a sitting position. He stood and crossed to my closet where he selected a black silk tie from the rack. Returning to me, he asked that I stand in front of him. Slowly, sensuously he placed the silk tie over my eyes and tied it in back. I could not help but shiver at the thought of being in this man's control. Again, slowly, he removed the silk sash from the robe and had me sit down in the straight back chair by the makeup mirror. Pulling my hands behind me he used the sash to tie my hands together, then to a slat on the chair.
The robe had fallen open and my dick throbbed with the sensual bondage I currently experienced. So simple, so pure, and so effective. SirTom stood behind me and massaged my neck and down into my shoulders. I shivered uncontrollably, not from being cold, but from being so aroused. And as he would do for some time to come, he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "You are such a good boy, Alan, such a fine boy, who I know will work hard to please me. You are not to cum until I allow it, boy, but when you do finally have my permission you will have not one, not two, but three orgasms that will shake you to your very foundation. I promise you this, boy. But it can only happen if you give yourself 100% to me, here and now. Do you understand this, Alan?"
I could only whisper. "Yes, SirTom."
Over the next hour SirTom brought me to within an inch of cumming so many times I lost track. Two more of my ties were used to tie my ankles to the chair legs further restraining me and further arousing me. Yet another tie was first used to tease my dripping cock, then it was tied around my cock and balls proving an excellent cockring.
SirTom continually found new spots on my body that I had no clue could be so erotic. From the tips of my toes, to a line inside my thighs, to the insides of my elbows, to a tiny spot behind my ears, every single touch seemed to electrify my already charged body. His light touch on my nipples made me crave more and more. Once when he bent forward to lick the very tip of my right nipple I thought that alone would be enough to take me over the edge where I was balanced. But even without me saying so, he knew he had taken me to that edge and quickly withdrew leaving me panting and begging for more.
And over and over he would pause in his torment and whisper in my ear. "Just here and now, you and me, and the promise I have made to you, boy. I will let you cum, son, but you are not ready yet."
I thought I would go insane. I began to make both promises and curses. I was heaving in the chair. I tried to get loose so that I could stroke my dick just that few more times and explode. SirTom's bondage was so simple and yet completely effective.
When finally I was not only at that edge of cumming but also the edge of pure insanity SirTom sat on my thighs, reached up and removed the black silk tie blindfold. As I opened my eyes all I could see were his beautiful blue pools of intensity staring at me. He whispered, "It's time now, Alan. You have My permission." Never taking his eyes from mine he reached down and grabbed my rigid cock and slowly began to stroke. I could feel my eyes rolling back in my head. "Stay here, boy, stay with me. Here and now." And I refocused on those eyes. Feeling a rumbling deep inside me I knew that I was going to shoot. "Please, SirTom, please." I saw a faint smile in the corners of his eyes and he said,
"Shoot it now, boy." And shoot I did roaring and screaming, but never taking my eyes from him. And without ever stopping he continued to stroke my dick bringing me right back to orgasm a 2nd time. I could not believe it possible and yet I believed in SirTom's promise. And as I shot a 2nd time the stroking continued, never pausing, never relenting. Deep inside me I felt a struggle. My body and mind were shutting down, saying 'no more.' My heart and soul argued and won. Within a minute I shot a 3rd small load all the while staring into those blue eyes, all the while hearing the hypnotic whisper of SirTom.
"You are such a good, Alan, such a fine boy. I am proud to have you as My boy, Alan. Such a good boy."
SirTom leaned forward and gently kissed my on my forehead then stood. Walking behind me, he untied the sash restraining my hands. Again his hands were on my shoulders and he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "You need to sleep, boy. Sleep deeply. You have pleased me to no end, boy, and I look forward to many more times where you and I can share so deeply. Thank you. Sweet dreams, Alan." And with that he was gone.
I leaned forward to undo the rest of the bondage, pulled the sash back around my waist thereby closing the robe, and crawled on to the love seat, closing my eyes and falling fast asleep without even a thought. I had imagined being completely drained before in my life. Now I truly knew the meaning of that phrase.
Over the next two days I spent a total of 20 hours in that dog suit. The funny thing for me is that little was really that memorable for me. My mind kept floating back to my evening with SirTom. Danny did a remarkable job though of always getting my focus back on the scene and on him. At one point Deuce brought his puppy “Paws” played by Ed, to play with me. I was amazed at how much fun we had and how quickly we fell into a copacetic space.
In the final two of hours of Wednesday starting around 8:00 p.m. that night, as promised, the scene turned sexual. For two hours Danny brought me to the edge of coming over and over again. The pain collar was used now to bring me back from the verge, but little encouragement was needed to take me back to the precipice. And finally, after 27 hours and 45 minutes of being in the suit I exploded so ferociously I caught everyone by surprise. The pent up sperm flew from my body in long arcs and I howled. I realized now that the experience I had had with SirTom on Monday evening had prepared me for this. Somehow he had unlocked some sort of gate in me that was now allowing me to have orgasms that were absolutely bone-crushing in depth.
As I finished howling and felt my body slowly give over to exhaustion Danny stroked my stomach, scratched behind my ears, and milked the last drop from me. And the leash was reattached and slowly I was led back to my kennel, put inside, and the door locked behind me. I lay down for a long sleep.
“Gentlemen, we're off the air. My sincere thanks to you all.”
And just like that it was over.
Friday, July 9, 2010
SirTom Enterprises, Part VIII
Over the next couple of days I felt myself get stronger. The self-pity was a tiresome emotion and I worked to get past it. SirTom moved me to a small apartment that was built into the back of the warehouses. It was a simple place, simply furnished, but at least it was private.
By Sunday afternoon I was feeling a lot better. I still had a lot of processing to do, understanding how I had come to be a single man after 25 years of partnership, but I also felt, for lack of a better word, free. I showered, shaved, and put on one of my new suits. I took a look at myself in the mirror. Besides the bags under my eyes, not too bad. I pulled out my cellphone and scrolled through the messages. Only one from Geo. I listened.
“I’ve got my stuff out of the loft and I’ve rented a studio apartment on 10th Street. Call me when your head clears up and you’ve quit at that place. I have a friend who’s been seeing a therapist about some sexual issues. I think it would be a good idea if you made an appointment to see him as well. You’ve got a real problem, Alan. And if you can’t clear that up I don’t think we can be together anymore.”
I deleted the message. And without a tear I drove back to the loft. I walked around. The only things missing were his clothes from the closet and the big screen TV. I called a realtor who was more than happy to come over immediately. He took several shots of the loft for advertising and we discussed a price. He was sure we could get $300,000 for the space if we were patient.
“List it for $250,000. Use whatever means necessary but I want a signed offer within two weeks if possible.” I couldn’t stay here any longer. I had to get out, move on, and start fresh. I packed a couple of bags along with some toiletries and my laptop and drove into downtown and got a room at a hotel.
After I checked in I called SirTom.
“I want to work tomorrow, SirTom.”
“Alan, are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely. And thank you, SirTom. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I mean every little thing. I will pay you back. I don’t know how, but I will pay you back in any way I can.”
“I’ll see you at the studios tomorrow then. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Alan. And, please, you owe me nothing. I consider you my friend, even perhaps, like my son. I am a better person because you’re in my life now. You are enriching my life, just as I hope I can enrich yours. Sleep well. And eat. I didn’t hire you so that you’d get skinny on me!”
I slept late on Monday, but awoke fully rested and hungry. Room service delivered a huge breakfast and I devoured it. I got ready for work. A crisp white shirt and a bright blue tie along with one of my new suits made me look pretty damn good. The bags under my eyes were definitely smaller and I could see a little bit of twinkle returning to my eyes. I can do this, I thought. I can move on.
When I entered the studios Davey rushed over and gave me a big pity hug. Clearly word was out at work that Geo and I had split up. I appreciated the hug but knew I couldn’t have it going on all day.
“Davey, you have a job to do for me today.”
“Okay?”
“Tell everybody I’m fine, and the next person who looks at me with sad eyes, or wants to shower me with pity is going to get slugged. Is that clear?”
“You got it.”
I grabbed a copy of the week’s shoot list and headed for my dressing room. I was on for Monday through Wednesday with only one scene title for all three days: “Gimp.” After my name was a short note from SirTom–“see me before the shoot.”
I knocked on SirTom’s office door and entered. He rose, gave me a good hug, and held me so that he could look me up and down. “Excellent! You look very nice in that suit. I believe we can start today’s scene with you in that. Now have a seat. I want to explain what the scene is and make sure you want to do it.”
“As long as it doesn’t involve women, children, or animals, I’m game, SirTom.”
He chuckled. “No women or children, I promise, but let’s talk about the animal part. A client has asked for a 3 day scene with you in the starring role. He’s agreed to pay a $30,000 fee to have his fantasy acted out. Your part of the bonus for this would be $10,000. $10,000 would be split with the other actors in the scene. $10,000 of course goes toward company expenses.
“The scene involves you being put in a gimp suit. The gimp suit includes a puppy head and puppy tail. The client wants this broadcast on a private channel for his enjoyment only. And he wants to have 8 hour access to watching you in that suit today, 12 hours tomorrow, and another 8 hours on Wednesday. Much of the time you would only be in a cage, resting, eating, drinking from a bowl, but during his specified hours he wants to watch the puppy being trained. On Wednesday afternoon during the final two hours of broadcasting, you would be allowed to masturbate with your puppy paws. The hours that we don’t broadcast will be the time you can get out of the suit, eat and drink properly, take care of your bowels, stretch your muscles and prepare mentally for the next several hours of puppy training. We can give you a very mild muscle relaxant before you get in the suit and we’ll dissolve very small amounts in the water for the dog bowl. There is no way you can handle the suit for that a long a time without a little help. And the drugs will help stop cramping. It is a very intense scene and will be very demanding on you. If you want to wait a little longer before taking this on I will certainly understand.”
“I appreciate your sensitivity toward me, SirTom. But I’m up for it, I promise.” I patted my crotch where my cock had already sprung to life. “In more ways than one”
Puppy-training turned out to be one of the most liberating experiences I’d ever gone through. The scene that afternoon involved me signing a contract with Danny. It had something to do with owing Danny a lot of money and this contract removing my responsibility for the debt. He was to serve as my owner for the three day shoot. Both of us were in well-tailored suits. Immediately after I signed on the bottom line Danny used an intercom to call his assistant, played by JB. JB was dressed in a latex jumpsuit that had been heavily shined. This was clearly a custom suit with a yellow tribal insignia worked into the torso of the suit.
A leather collar was placed around my neck and locked in place. All along the inside of the collar were small metal contacts that could be remote-controlled and release a wide range of electrical shocks.
“Tell him you have some second thoughts.”
I turned back to Danny. “Look, Mr. Stevenson, I’m not so sure about this. This is beginning to creep me out a little."
Danny merely picked a small remote control and pushed the button. I was stunned at the severity of the shock that pulsed not just in my neck, but traveled well down into my torso. Involuntarily I dropped to my knees.
“No more talking, little puppy!” He turned his attention to JB. “Get a gag in him now, get that filthy hair off of his body, and get him in the gimp suit. I’ll be there in two hours to start his training.”
JB brought out a bit-gag made of rubber and in the shape of a bone and shoved it between my teeth. It was pulled tight at the back of my head and locked in place. JB then attached a leash to my collar and yanked me to my feet. I was pulled into the shower room. One of the actors I’d not worked with, named Todd, was waiting there. He wore a latex jumpsuit exactly like the one JB had on. Together they wrestled the clothes off of me and threw them to the side. My hands were locked inside inflatable rubber mitts. At the end of the mitts were D rings. A chain and lock were added to each and my hands lifted high above my head and secured there. Todd worked only part-time at ST Enterprises and was happy with the arrangement. He was an expert with a strait-razor and was used only for scenes that called for barbering, head shaving, or complete body shaves.
JB and Todd both grabbed electric clippers and went over my entire body, taking off every single hair they could find. I whimpered through the bit-gag, trying to plead for them to stop. When I squirmed or twisted too much JB would slap my ass hard. When I didn’t stop immediately he lifted an identical remote control to the one Danny had and threatened me with. It took only one jolt to bring my squirming to a halt.
Finished with the clipping, the men grabbed hoses and began to blast my body with hot water. When finished my skin was bright red. Shaving cream was dispensed and slathered completely over my body. And Todd began his magic with the strait-razor. With great care and an evil little grin he patiently and methodically made his way over every square inch of my body. Even the punishment collar was removed and my neck, head, face and eyebrows were completely shaved.
Again the hot water hoses were turned on me removing the remaining shaving cream and tiny shaved hairs left behind. The collar and bit gag were put back on me and locked. JB and Todd now pulled on thick elbow length industrial rubber gloves. They poured heavy, slimy lubricant into the palms of their rubbered hands and spread it all over me. When I was completely covered with the viscous goo the gimp suit was brought forward and held in front of me.
It was a magnificent piece, handsomely crafted from very thick rubber. The suit required the wearer to bend his legs nearly 100% so his heels were touching his butt. It also required that the arms be bent to that his hands were held tight to his collar bone. There was significant padding in the areas around the knees and elbows, cushiony gel-like material had been inserted to help the wearer manage walking on knees and elbows for extended periods of time. The hood attached was that of a snarling pit bull. It was ferocious looking.
“Time to stop admiring; time for a struggle. The jolt we give you will be very mild but I want you to collapse as if you've been knocked out.”
I started to quiver and back away from the suit. I screamed through the bit gag. If I was going to be called a “scenery-chewer” by God, I wanted everyone to know I was the best at it. JB and Todd tried to bring me under control but with the lube all over my body they were unable to get me to stop kicking at them. JB lifted the remote control and hit the button.
I screamed and collapsed. SirTom was right– a very minor jolt. While I was pretending to be knocked out, JB and Todd put me completely inside the suit, first my legs, then my arms, my head into the dog shaped hood (the bit gag and collar still in place), my penis into an exposed sheath, and finally they pulled the zipper from just above my anus to the top of my head. I heard a padlock being added. The suit was incredibly tight and inside the contraption I cursed Freddie and Fannie for being so good at their work. As a finishing touch JB shoved the built in puppy tail butt plug firmly into my ass.
JB and Todd picked me up and carried my gimp body to the set where the rest of the action would take place over the next couple of days. Through the pepperpot eyes of the dog hood I could see fairly clearly although only straight ahead having no peripheral vision. I had to either swing my head around severely or move my entire body. On the set were various puppy toys, a food bowl, a water bowl, and a kennel. I wobbled on my knees and elbows exploring the space slowly and the severe limitations of the suit I was wearing. I was already glad I’d agreed to taking the muscle relaxant as I could feel my body contorted like this was not going to be easy on me. Behind me I heard footsteps. I wobbled around, to see who was behind me.
Danny had changed from his business suit to what appeared to be a full latex military uniform. His shirt was a brownish red and fit him tightly. The jodphur-style breeches were dark brown, with red and black stripes down the sides. Tall rubber boots climbed to just below the knee. A muir cap was on his head, a Sam Browne belt went from a belt loop diagonally over his chest, and he carried a riding crop.
“Hello, Bolt. I understand you’ve been a difficult little puppy. By the next time we have to send you for grooming I expect you to impress the groomers with how well-behaved you are.”
By Sunday afternoon I was feeling a lot better. I still had a lot of processing to do, understanding how I had come to be a single man after 25 years of partnership, but I also felt, for lack of a better word, free. I showered, shaved, and put on one of my new suits. I took a look at myself in the mirror. Besides the bags under my eyes, not too bad. I pulled out my cellphone and scrolled through the messages. Only one from Geo. I listened.
“I’ve got my stuff out of the loft and I’ve rented a studio apartment on 10th Street. Call me when your head clears up and you’ve quit at that place. I have a friend who’s been seeing a therapist about some sexual issues. I think it would be a good idea if you made an appointment to see him as well. You’ve got a real problem, Alan. And if you can’t clear that up I don’t think we can be together anymore.”
I deleted the message. And without a tear I drove back to the loft. I walked around. The only things missing were his clothes from the closet and the big screen TV. I called a realtor who was more than happy to come over immediately. He took several shots of the loft for advertising and we discussed a price. He was sure we could get $300,000 for the space if we were patient.
“List it for $250,000. Use whatever means necessary but I want a signed offer within two weeks if possible.” I couldn’t stay here any longer. I had to get out, move on, and start fresh. I packed a couple of bags along with some toiletries and my laptop and drove into downtown and got a room at a hotel.
After I checked in I called SirTom.
“I want to work tomorrow, SirTom.”
“Alan, are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely. And thank you, SirTom. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I mean every little thing. I will pay you back. I don’t know how, but I will pay you back in any way I can.”
“I’ll see you at the studios tomorrow then. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Alan. And, please, you owe me nothing. I consider you my friend, even perhaps, like my son. I am a better person because you’re in my life now. You are enriching my life, just as I hope I can enrich yours. Sleep well. And eat. I didn’t hire you so that you’d get skinny on me!”
I slept late on Monday, but awoke fully rested and hungry. Room service delivered a huge breakfast and I devoured it. I got ready for work. A crisp white shirt and a bright blue tie along with one of my new suits made me look pretty damn good. The bags under my eyes were definitely smaller and I could see a little bit of twinkle returning to my eyes. I can do this, I thought. I can move on.
When I entered the studios Davey rushed over and gave me a big pity hug. Clearly word was out at work that Geo and I had split up. I appreciated the hug but knew I couldn’t have it going on all day.
“Davey, you have a job to do for me today.”
“Okay?”
“Tell everybody I’m fine, and the next person who looks at me with sad eyes, or wants to shower me with pity is going to get slugged. Is that clear?”
“You got it.”
I grabbed a copy of the week’s shoot list and headed for my dressing room. I was on for Monday through Wednesday with only one scene title for all three days: “Gimp.” After my name was a short note from SirTom–“see me before the shoot.”
I knocked on SirTom’s office door and entered. He rose, gave me a good hug, and held me so that he could look me up and down. “Excellent! You look very nice in that suit. I believe we can start today’s scene with you in that. Now have a seat. I want to explain what the scene is and make sure you want to do it.”
“As long as it doesn’t involve women, children, or animals, I’m game, SirTom.”
He chuckled. “No women or children, I promise, but let’s talk about the animal part. A client has asked for a 3 day scene with you in the starring role. He’s agreed to pay a $30,000 fee to have his fantasy acted out. Your part of the bonus for this would be $10,000. $10,000 would be split with the other actors in the scene. $10,000 of course goes toward company expenses.
“The scene involves you being put in a gimp suit. The gimp suit includes a puppy head and puppy tail. The client wants this broadcast on a private channel for his enjoyment only. And he wants to have 8 hour access to watching you in that suit today, 12 hours tomorrow, and another 8 hours on Wednesday. Much of the time you would only be in a cage, resting, eating, drinking from a bowl, but during his specified hours he wants to watch the puppy being trained. On Wednesday afternoon during the final two hours of broadcasting, you would be allowed to masturbate with your puppy paws. The hours that we don’t broadcast will be the time you can get out of the suit, eat and drink properly, take care of your bowels, stretch your muscles and prepare mentally for the next several hours of puppy training. We can give you a very mild muscle relaxant before you get in the suit and we’ll dissolve very small amounts in the water for the dog bowl. There is no way you can handle the suit for that a long a time without a little help. And the drugs will help stop cramping. It is a very intense scene and will be very demanding on you. If you want to wait a little longer before taking this on I will certainly understand.”
“I appreciate your sensitivity toward me, SirTom. But I’m up for it, I promise.” I patted my crotch where my cock had already sprung to life. “In more ways than one”
Puppy-training turned out to be one of the most liberating experiences I’d ever gone through. The scene that afternoon involved me signing a contract with Danny. It had something to do with owing Danny a lot of money and this contract removing my responsibility for the debt. He was to serve as my owner for the three day shoot. Both of us were in well-tailored suits. Immediately after I signed on the bottom line Danny used an intercom to call his assistant, played by JB. JB was dressed in a latex jumpsuit that had been heavily shined. This was clearly a custom suit with a yellow tribal insignia worked into the torso of the suit.
A leather collar was placed around my neck and locked in place. All along the inside of the collar were small metal contacts that could be remote-controlled and release a wide range of electrical shocks.
“Tell him you have some second thoughts.”
I turned back to Danny. “Look, Mr. Stevenson, I’m not so sure about this. This is beginning to creep me out a little."
Danny merely picked a small remote control and pushed the button. I was stunned at the severity of the shock that pulsed not just in my neck, but traveled well down into my torso. Involuntarily I dropped to my knees.
“No more talking, little puppy!” He turned his attention to JB. “Get a gag in him now, get that filthy hair off of his body, and get him in the gimp suit. I’ll be there in two hours to start his training.”
JB brought out a bit-gag made of rubber and in the shape of a bone and shoved it between my teeth. It was pulled tight at the back of my head and locked in place. JB then attached a leash to my collar and yanked me to my feet. I was pulled into the shower room. One of the actors I’d not worked with, named Todd, was waiting there. He wore a latex jumpsuit exactly like the one JB had on. Together they wrestled the clothes off of me and threw them to the side. My hands were locked inside inflatable rubber mitts. At the end of the mitts were D rings. A chain and lock were added to each and my hands lifted high above my head and secured there. Todd worked only part-time at ST Enterprises and was happy with the arrangement. He was an expert with a strait-razor and was used only for scenes that called for barbering, head shaving, or complete body shaves.
JB and Todd both grabbed electric clippers and went over my entire body, taking off every single hair they could find. I whimpered through the bit-gag, trying to plead for them to stop. When I squirmed or twisted too much JB would slap my ass hard. When I didn’t stop immediately he lifted an identical remote control to the one Danny had and threatened me with. It took only one jolt to bring my squirming to a halt.
Finished with the clipping, the men grabbed hoses and began to blast my body with hot water. When finished my skin was bright red. Shaving cream was dispensed and slathered completely over my body. And Todd began his magic with the strait-razor. With great care and an evil little grin he patiently and methodically made his way over every square inch of my body. Even the punishment collar was removed and my neck, head, face and eyebrows were completely shaved.
Again the hot water hoses were turned on me removing the remaining shaving cream and tiny shaved hairs left behind. The collar and bit gag were put back on me and locked. JB and Todd now pulled on thick elbow length industrial rubber gloves. They poured heavy, slimy lubricant into the palms of their rubbered hands and spread it all over me. When I was completely covered with the viscous goo the gimp suit was brought forward and held in front of me.
It was a magnificent piece, handsomely crafted from very thick rubber. The suit required the wearer to bend his legs nearly 100% so his heels were touching his butt. It also required that the arms be bent to that his hands were held tight to his collar bone. There was significant padding in the areas around the knees and elbows, cushiony gel-like material had been inserted to help the wearer manage walking on knees and elbows for extended periods of time. The hood attached was that of a snarling pit bull. It was ferocious looking.
“Time to stop admiring; time for a struggle. The jolt we give you will be very mild but I want you to collapse as if you've been knocked out.”
I started to quiver and back away from the suit. I screamed through the bit gag. If I was going to be called a “scenery-chewer” by God, I wanted everyone to know I was the best at it. JB and Todd tried to bring me under control but with the lube all over my body they were unable to get me to stop kicking at them. JB lifted the remote control and hit the button.
I screamed and collapsed. SirTom was right– a very minor jolt. While I was pretending to be knocked out, JB and Todd put me completely inside the suit, first my legs, then my arms, my head into the dog shaped hood (the bit gag and collar still in place), my penis into an exposed sheath, and finally they pulled the zipper from just above my anus to the top of my head. I heard a padlock being added. The suit was incredibly tight and inside the contraption I cursed Freddie and Fannie for being so good at their work. As a finishing touch JB shoved the built in puppy tail butt plug firmly into my ass.
JB and Todd picked me up and carried my gimp body to the set where the rest of the action would take place over the next couple of days. Through the pepperpot eyes of the dog hood I could see fairly clearly although only straight ahead having no peripheral vision. I had to either swing my head around severely or move my entire body. On the set were various puppy toys, a food bowl, a water bowl, and a kennel. I wobbled on my knees and elbows exploring the space slowly and the severe limitations of the suit I was wearing. I was already glad I’d agreed to taking the muscle relaxant as I could feel my body contorted like this was not going to be easy on me. Behind me I heard footsteps. I wobbled around, to see who was behind me.
Danny had changed from his business suit to what appeared to be a full latex military uniform. His shirt was a brownish red and fit him tightly. The jodphur-style breeches were dark brown, with red and black stripes down the sides. Tall rubber boots climbed to just below the knee. A muir cap was on his head, a Sam Browne belt went from a belt loop diagonally over his chest, and he carried a riding crop.
“Hello, Bolt. I understand you’ve been a difficult little puppy. By the next time we have to send you for grooming I expect you to impress the groomers with how well-behaved you are.”
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Believe-----in yourself
It's difficult to describe the difference between a "good scene" and a "great" one. Yet we all know it when it happens. "Good" ones have a nice build, some fun activities, mutual trust, and a sense that we have gone somewhere together. "Great" ones have all that and more. But describing the "more" gets tough. But yesterday, for lack of a better word, was "great."
pup arrived his 3 minutes early as always. And as always his cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright, and his eagerness apparent. Stripped of his clothes, we began the process of making him "pup." From collars, to mitts, to kneepads, to hood, to buttplug. Over this went his surf suit and pup play began. It seemed simple today, that transition from the man/boy who walks through the door to the pup who kneels at my feet, using his tongue on everything, follows every command with joy, savors every scratch, every caress, and every "good boy". There was no awkwardness, only joy, exuberance, trust, and connection.
A little later we made a transition from the neoprene suit to a simple rubber jockstrap and his wonderful silicon tail. Again, so much easier, so much simpler....and deeper pup went into his role.
And as we lay on the bed just relaxing together I spied a pupball. I couldn't resist. One pupball was sticking out from under the rubber jock; pretty soon two pupballs were sticking out and both plopped into my mouth with great ease......But the real "aha" moment came as I thought the scene was winding down. pup came to me, leash in mouth, offered me the leash, and said, "do something to my balls." This from a boy who a month ago could barely stand for them to be touched, much less "worked."
I'm no fool; I don't have to be asked twice. pup was placed between two vertical chains, his hands suspended out of the way. A blindfold and big plug gag were added. Two nice rubber rings were placed on his ball sac stretching them quite nicely and...
"Smack." Not once, not twice but a hundred times. First with the hand and when that wasn't enough with a ping pong paddle. And above me, garbled by a big plug gag I could hear the boy saying "More, Sir!" and a hundred "Thank you, Sirs." And the pupboy's dick grew quite purple and angry, but we never reached the "Please, Sir." which is his code for we might be going too far.
When I believed it to be enough I let the pupboy loose. And all I could say was, "Wow." I know that sounds stupid but you have to understand, I was pretty much at a loss for words. Holding the pupboy at this moment, his moment of revelation that, yes, some pain can be pleasurable; this moment where he truly flipped a monster switch inside of him to come to new understanding; this moment where I really believe that he truly trusted me, truly and completely. Well, "wow" pretty much sums up the feelings inside of me.
A month ago I told you the journey for this pup was going to be a good one. I knew it deep inside me. I told you you'd be cheering him on. Well, he just earned his first standing ovation.
SirTom Enterprises, Part VII
The next morning I got up early and finally dragged Geo out of bed. We had to talk. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I was leaving for San Francisco the following week, and I’d looked at the scene descriptions for today. I was supposed to get shaved, a full body shave. I didn’t figure there was any way I could hide that from Geo.
I poured him a cup of coffee and laid out the four words every lover hates to hear, “We need to talk.”
“Okay....? What’s up?”
“It’s my new job. It isn’t exactly what I told you it was. And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth right away.” Jeez, this was going to be hard, I thought, but full steam ahead!
“I kind of figured that. And I don’t even know why exactly. I mean the guy buys all your ‘stuff’ and then hires you for an IT job? I figured him for a first class pervert. And what first class pervert has the money for all that shit.”
“Well, I know at least the four hundred guys who subscribe to his service have that kind of money. Four hundred first class perverts with lots and lots of money. ” I was already on the defensive.
“Huh?”
“Look, it pisses me off that you classify anyone who is into leather or rubber as perverted, because when you talk about him that way, you’re also talking about me. Okay? I admit I’ve got sexual fetishes. Most of the world does as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yeah, but they don’t waste all their time and money indulging that crap.”
“Yep! You’re right! I’ve wasted a lot of time and money. But only because it was wasted on you! I’d wear that ‘crap,’ as you so nicely called it, every single day if I could. I’m sorry you don’t get it, but I’m tired of pretending that it’s not important to me. ”
“I sort of hoped that your agreeing to sell all this shit meant you had gotten over your stupid little fantasies and games. I guess this argument means you’re not.”
“Great! So now not only am a pervert, I’m a stupid pervert. Thanks! And I love you too, asshole!” I hadn’t meant to yell. This was not going at all like I planned it.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, okay.” Geo’s apology was sincere. The problem was I could still see that he was looking at me in almost a condescending, sympathetic way, sort of the way you look at someone who tells you he’s dying of cancer. “Tell me what is going on. Just tell me.”
And I laid it all out for him. Every last bit. Even the rubber suit with inflatable tits. Even that. And my reaction. He didn’t interrupt, but he put his hand over his mouth about half-way through my story and turned a deathly gray. Not a good sign. When I finished my revelations we just sat for several minutes, breathing quietly, not really looking at each other.
“Are you done?” I nodded that I was. “I want you to quit. Today. I don’t care what kind of contract you signed, it won’t hold up in court, because it’s a contract written by a pornographer and pervert. No judge will listen to his side of arguments. Just quit. Give the signing bonus back. Whatever. Just quit.”
I knew Geo would not be happy, but he also didn’t seem to care that I was happy. It’s like he hadn’t even heard that part of my story. I simply said, “No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean I’m not quitting.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Please don’t do that. You are my partner and lover, and you can express how you feel, express what you think, but please don’t just unilaterally tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“We’re not talking about whose turn it is to do the dishes! We’re talking about this fucking perverted thing you’ve gotten into. You have to quit!”
“No, I’m not quitting. And if you call me a pervert one more time.....”
“What?” he demanded.
I took a long time to respond. “I have spent 25 years with you and I love you very much, but there is a huge part of me that you don’t understand and don’t seem care to understand. I have tried to entice you to see sex from my point of view and I appreciate it that you tried a few times. But right now I feel like you’ve shoved some sort of unspoken ultimatum at me—Quit or else, seems to be the message. Well, I’m curious, what the ‘or else’ is.”
He also took a long time to respond. “I won’t have it. Knowing you’re going off to some perversion parlor, being filmed for some sick guys who have lots of bucks to watch you prance about in rubber and leather, well, I just won’t have it. I don’t know how I’ll manage financially, but I’ll move out. We can sell the loft under market value, pocket whatever little profit we might get, and go our separate ways.”
I took several long breaths. My heart was pounding in my ears. “I want to ask you one question before I tell you my thoughts. How many nights this past couple of weeks were you working late and how many nights did you have little ‘get-togethers’ with some internet hook-up?”
He didn’t have to answer the question. I could see the answer in his refusal to look at me.
“And have I criticized or pulled a power-trip over it? No. Because we agreed that as long as we came home at night and shared our hearts with each other that would be enough. Well, clearly that is not a two-way street.”
I wasn’t getting through to him and I knew it. I could see him taking another breath to start another argument that his blow-jobs and booty calls were nowhere near as bad as my perversions. I wasn’t going to give him the chance. I interrupted his big breath,
“I’m going to go spend the night at a friend’s. I’ll stay away until Sunday night, late. Take anything and everything you want. Leave me a note where I should forward your mail.”
And I turned and walked out.
I walked to the parking garage, got in my car and drove to the warehouse on the west side. I punched my code to get into the gate and pulled haphazardly into a spot. And I burst into tears. The next thing I knew Davey was knocking on my driver’s window.
“Are you alright?” What a stupid question. Of course I wasn’t alright. I didn’t know if I’d ever be alright. My head was reeling with some pretty major questions. Am I pervert? Did I just throw away 25 years of a tremendous relationship because I am a pervert?
“Go away!” I shouted. And started sobbing even more. My chest was heaving. I thought I might be sick to my stomach.
A few minutes later I was starting to catch my breath and the sobs were coming a little further apart. I lifted my head. SirTom was waiting outside the driver’s window. I opened the door and stepped out.
“Geo?”
I nodded and he stepped forward and held me close. I started sobbing again, my head against his shoulder. I kept thinking, these tears are going to stain this perfect linen jacket. When I was semi-under-control he ushered me through a private side door, down a back hallway and into his office. A glass of brandy appeared in front of me and without thinking twice I chugged it.
He pulled a chair around to where he was facing me, our knees touching. “Do you want to tell me?”
I replayed the complete scene of Geo and me for him. He nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s my fault.”
“How?”
“For compromising such an important part of myself for 25 years. For putting my own needs so low on the totem pole. For letting that asshole call me a pervert. I was called a pervert when I was a kid, before I even knew what sex was. My parents called me a pervert when they turned their backs on me. I’ve been in full rubber at the Eagle and had a leatherman, for Christ sake, call me a pervert. Jesus! What is it with people!” I was sputtering now, making a remarkable transition from sorrow to anger.
“I’ve cancelled your shoot for today. Actually I’ve called in a replacement. It’s okay. I only care that you’re taken care of for now.”
“I WANT to do the shoot. Fuck him. Doors have been opened for me the last few days. Major doors and I do NOT want to go backwards and I fucking will not wallow.”
SirTom actually chuckled. “You look like shit. I’m sorry, but you do. And I’m not going to have you do the shoot when your emotions are all over the place. It’s not safe, it’s not pretty, and there is an element of control that is lost. You can hate me, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not working today. The paycheck is already printed, so don’t worry about that. Worry about yourself. That’s all that matters right now.”
I started to sob again. Self-pity, the pity of others, it doesn’t much matter. They both sting. And in this new set of sobs I could feel the desire to vomit come even stronger. I shot up out of my chair and down the hall to find a bathroom. I heaved multiple times, only stopping to sob some more. When I had nothing left to bring up SirTom practically carried me to a bedroom set not being used for the day and laid me down on the bed. A second glass of brandy appeared along with a little white pill.
“Take the pill. It’s okay. Nothing strong. It will just take the edge off. And I’ll stay with you. I promise.”
I gulped the brandy and swallowed the pill. In a matter of moments I was fast asleep.
I poured him a cup of coffee and laid out the four words every lover hates to hear, “We need to talk.”
“Okay....? What’s up?”
“It’s my new job. It isn’t exactly what I told you it was. And I’m sorry for not telling you the truth right away.” Jeez, this was going to be hard, I thought, but full steam ahead!
“I kind of figured that. And I don’t even know why exactly. I mean the guy buys all your ‘stuff’ and then hires you for an IT job? I figured him for a first class pervert. And what first class pervert has the money for all that shit.”
“Well, I know at least the four hundred guys who subscribe to his service have that kind of money. Four hundred first class perverts with lots and lots of money. ” I was already on the defensive.
“Huh?”
“Look, it pisses me off that you classify anyone who is into leather or rubber as perverted, because when you talk about him that way, you’re also talking about me. Okay? I admit I’ve got sexual fetishes. Most of the world does as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yeah, but they don’t waste all their time and money indulging that crap.”
“Yep! You’re right! I’ve wasted a lot of time and money. But only because it was wasted on you! I’d wear that ‘crap,’ as you so nicely called it, every single day if I could. I’m sorry you don’t get it, but I’m tired of pretending that it’s not important to me. ”
“I sort of hoped that your agreeing to sell all this shit meant you had gotten over your stupid little fantasies and games. I guess this argument means you’re not.”
“Great! So now not only am a pervert, I’m a stupid pervert. Thanks! And I love you too, asshole!” I hadn’t meant to yell. This was not going at all like I planned it.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, okay.” Geo’s apology was sincere. The problem was I could still see that he was looking at me in almost a condescending, sympathetic way, sort of the way you look at someone who tells you he’s dying of cancer. “Tell me what is going on. Just tell me.”
And I laid it all out for him. Every last bit. Even the rubber suit with inflatable tits. Even that. And my reaction. He didn’t interrupt, but he put his hand over his mouth about half-way through my story and turned a deathly gray. Not a good sign. When I finished my revelations we just sat for several minutes, breathing quietly, not really looking at each other.
“Are you done?” I nodded that I was. “I want you to quit. Today. I don’t care what kind of contract you signed, it won’t hold up in court, because it’s a contract written by a pornographer and pervert. No judge will listen to his side of arguments. Just quit. Give the signing bonus back. Whatever. Just quit.”
I knew Geo would not be happy, but he also didn’t seem to care that I was happy. It’s like he hadn’t even heard that part of my story. I simply said, “No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean I’m not quitting.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Please don’t do that. You are my partner and lover, and you can express how you feel, express what you think, but please don’t just unilaterally tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“We’re not talking about whose turn it is to do the dishes! We’re talking about this fucking perverted thing you’ve gotten into. You have to quit!”
“No, I’m not quitting. And if you call me a pervert one more time.....”
“What?” he demanded.
I took a long time to respond. “I have spent 25 years with you and I love you very much, but there is a huge part of me that you don’t understand and don’t seem care to understand. I have tried to entice you to see sex from my point of view and I appreciate it that you tried a few times. But right now I feel like you’ve shoved some sort of unspoken ultimatum at me—Quit or else, seems to be the message. Well, I’m curious, what the ‘or else’ is.”
He also took a long time to respond. “I won’t have it. Knowing you’re going off to some perversion parlor, being filmed for some sick guys who have lots of bucks to watch you prance about in rubber and leather, well, I just won’t have it. I don’t know how I’ll manage financially, but I’ll move out. We can sell the loft under market value, pocket whatever little profit we might get, and go our separate ways.”
I took several long breaths. My heart was pounding in my ears. “I want to ask you one question before I tell you my thoughts. How many nights this past couple of weeks were you working late and how many nights did you have little ‘get-togethers’ with some internet hook-up?”
He didn’t have to answer the question. I could see the answer in his refusal to look at me.
“And have I criticized or pulled a power-trip over it? No. Because we agreed that as long as we came home at night and shared our hearts with each other that would be enough. Well, clearly that is not a two-way street.”
I wasn’t getting through to him and I knew it. I could see him taking another breath to start another argument that his blow-jobs and booty calls were nowhere near as bad as my perversions. I wasn’t going to give him the chance. I interrupted his big breath,
“I’m going to go spend the night at a friend’s. I’ll stay away until Sunday night, late. Take anything and everything you want. Leave me a note where I should forward your mail.”
And I turned and walked out.
I walked to the parking garage, got in my car and drove to the warehouse on the west side. I punched my code to get into the gate and pulled haphazardly into a spot. And I burst into tears. The next thing I knew Davey was knocking on my driver’s window.
“Are you alright?” What a stupid question. Of course I wasn’t alright. I didn’t know if I’d ever be alright. My head was reeling with some pretty major questions. Am I pervert? Did I just throw away 25 years of a tremendous relationship because I am a pervert?
“Go away!” I shouted. And started sobbing even more. My chest was heaving. I thought I might be sick to my stomach.
A few minutes later I was starting to catch my breath and the sobs were coming a little further apart. I lifted my head. SirTom was waiting outside the driver’s window. I opened the door and stepped out.
“Geo?”
I nodded and he stepped forward and held me close. I started sobbing again, my head against his shoulder. I kept thinking, these tears are going to stain this perfect linen jacket. When I was semi-under-control he ushered me through a private side door, down a back hallway and into his office. A glass of brandy appeared in front of me and without thinking twice I chugged it.
He pulled a chair around to where he was facing me, our knees touching. “Do you want to tell me?”
I replayed the complete scene of Geo and me for him. He nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s my fault.”
“How?”
“For compromising such an important part of myself for 25 years. For putting my own needs so low on the totem pole. For letting that asshole call me a pervert. I was called a pervert when I was a kid, before I even knew what sex was. My parents called me a pervert when they turned their backs on me. I’ve been in full rubber at the Eagle and had a leatherman, for Christ sake, call me a pervert. Jesus! What is it with people!” I was sputtering now, making a remarkable transition from sorrow to anger.
“I’ve cancelled your shoot for today. Actually I’ve called in a replacement. It’s okay. I only care that you’re taken care of for now.”
“I WANT to do the shoot. Fuck him. Doors have been opened for me the last few days. Major doors and I do NOT want to go backwards and I fucking will not wallow.”
SirTom actually chuckled. “You look like shit. I’m sorry, but you do. And I’m not going to have you do the shoot when your emotions are all over the place. It’s not safe, it’s not pretty, and there is an element of control that is lost. You can hate me, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not working today. The paycheck is already printed, so don’t worry about that. Worry about yourself. That’s all that matters right now.”
I started to sob again. Self-pity, the pity of others, it doesn’t much matter. They both sting. And in this new set of sobs I could feel the desire to vomit come even stronger. I shot up out of my chair and down the hall to find a bathroom. I heaved multiple times, only stopping to sob some more. When I had nothing left to bring up SirTom practically carried me to a bedroom set not being used for the day and laid me down on the bed. A second glass of brandy appeared along with a little white pill.
“Take the pill. It’s okay. Nothing strong. It will just take the edge off. And I’ll stay with you. I promise.”
I gulped the brandy and swallowed the pill. In a matter of moments I was fast asleep.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Happy Independence Day
I guess independence means "no leash".....
Happy 4th, all of you. And my thanks to all the followers, all the folks who've made comments, and all you lurkers!
Happy 4th, all of you. And my thanks to all the followers, all the folks who've made comments, and all you lurkers!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Cum Monster
Sigh.....why does it always seem that somebody thinks the scene isn't over until everybody has shot load after load after load? We are so fricking programmed by the porn and smut industries that lead us to believe that the scene didn't work unless gallons of cum were produced. Or maybe, as pup suggested, we were led there by some idiot boyfriend from long ago who kept saying...."I want us to shoot at the same time." Do those people know how hard that shit is?
Don't get me wrong. It's pretty cool when it does happen, cumming alone or cumming together, if it was meant to happen. It can be pretty cool if a second load is produced under protest from a boy. But, pissfuck!, I've had a lot of really great scenes where no one came, where both of us shot maybe hours apart, or where only one of us has cum. Personally I find it hard to shoot in a scene where I've been topping for four or more hours. Usually by that time I'm emotionally and physically spent. And if I've held a boy, who I've spent 4 hours tying up and tormenting, and he's now free to shoot his load over the other bound boy, and he whispers to me as his dick grows purple and the head is mushrooming "i think i'm ready, Sir", after which I tell him "Good, then do it, boy, for Me, boy" and he responds by shooting a monster load, well, for me that IS an orgasm all to itself. And better than about 98% of the other orgasms I've had in life....and, to quote a very good friend, less sticky. ROFLMFAO....
My life is great right now, guys. I hope you have at least half the happiness I do.
Don't get me wrong. It's pretty cool when it does happen, cumming alone or cumming together, if it was meant to happen. It can be pretty cool if a second load is produced under protest from a boy. But, pissfuck!, I've had a lot of really great scenes where no one came, where both of us shot maybe hours apart, or where only one of us has cum. Personally I find it hard to shoot in a scene where I've been topping for four or more hours. Usually by that time I'm emotionally and physically spent. And if I've held a boy, who I've spent 4 hours tying up and tormenting, and he's now free to shoot his load over the other bound boy, and he whispers to me as his dick grows purple and the head is mushrooming "i think i'm ready, Sir", after which I tell him "Good, then do it, boy, for Me, boy" and he responds by shooting a monster load, well, for me that IS an orgasm all to itself. And better than about 98% of the other orgasms I've had in life....and, to quote a very good friend, less sticky. ROFLMFAO....
My life is great right now, guys. I hope you have at least half the happiness I do.
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