 |
|||
|
|
Soapy leaned against the counter at the Little Shop, pondering his next Vicodin purchase. He'd spent a month at Ivy Hill, getting spin-dried by the counselors...but let's face it,
Soapy wasn't a drug addict, he was a junkie. Addicts went to meetings. The raucous laughter from the Dominas Anonymous meeting upstairs was really making him irritable. What was wrong with those women?
As he heard more annoying peals of mirth, Soapy looked behind the counter at H.Singleton Soreson Bailey, husband of Urbana Bailey. Singleton was naked and bound just under the cash register, with a note taped to his hard dick "WATCH ME TIL MEETING ENDS"...
Soapy snorted in contempt, and searched in his pocket. Maybe there was a left over Darvon he could pop....these S&M people were friggin' pathetic.
Perhaps not...
"I was thinking the topic for tonight could be Post Orgasm attiude in the husband" Doniphan said, leaning back in her chair. "Ruskin is such a sweetheart for about 28 days out of the month, but when I unlock him and let him squirt, he seems so, um...unfocused afterwards...for like, seventy-two hours."
Doni shook her bouncing copper tresses, thinking about it. The other women in the room looked quite serious as the young meeting leader scratched her chin and sighed, her full breasts jiggling in the ribbed purple crop top.
"I mean, like...most of the time, Ruskin's all over me...trying to make me happy, cleaning the house after work so I'll be in a good enough mood to let him worship my body...getting me little surprise gifts, kissing Mike's boots when he visits--"
At this Doni giggled, and the other women did as well, thinking of Doni's kickboxing instructor, who gave her "private lessons" at home. Ruskin didn't like serving him at all...
"I mean, two or three nights a week, I unlock his chastity device, and I rub his wee wee, and he gets all weepy and tells me how WONDERFUL I am...." Doni said, rolling her huge, intense Pacific blue eyes.
Doni cried out in a deep voice "Honey, you're so sexy...so hot...can I touch your boobs...that's one great little whatchacallit you're wearing, like is it lingerie? Can I cum, honey?" Doniphan followed this with some exaggerated "macho" panting, sparking hilarity from her audience.
Doni sipped her Evian water, leaving her strawberry lip gloss around the bottle. She waved her long hot pink nails, and the women smiled, imagining poor Ruskin's agony.
"And I stroke him, and tickle him..." Doni said, amused..." And then I stop after about forty-five minutes, and he's crying, all frustrated, but after I lock him back up and undo the cuffs and all, he's even sweeter than before..."
Doni shook her copper mane. "But then on the thirty day mark...Rusky shoots his wad, right into the shot glass, like he's supposed to, and all of a sudden the attitude starts!"
There were murmurs of assent. The women knew where this was going.
"Then he's all 'I don't want to drink my cum...it's gross' and when I use the cane on him, he practically grabs it away from me!" Doni's voice was exasperated now. "Like, a day BEFORE he cums, Rusky takes the cane, the strop, the tawse, in absolute silence, except for his boo-hooing..."
The ladies laughed again, imagining Ruskin, a tight, emotionless Chief Warrant Officer for the Army, boo-hooing...it was quite an image!
Urbana Bailey shook her head, listening to the little idiot's story. Urbana wasn't crazy about all these upscale bitches in the Dominas Anonymous meeting. She knew that most of them had just loved Singleton's first wife, who was a professional type....
After Singleton's wife Gladys had died, sure, he'd gotten lonely, started seeing Mistress Urbana, who could torture and tease him into total fuckin' insanity...and then after six months, he'd proposed...
And since he was real popular, and was president of the Merrimack County Leather Education and Support Group, they went to all the parties, but Urbana ended up standing by herself...she didn't use good English, so what?
So she had frosted hair, and yeah it was big hair, why not? The old bag in charge of the Dominas Anonymous literature committee, who couldn't get laid in a men's prison with a handful of pardons, had whispered once that Urbie dressed like a streetwalker...and one of the younger women had joked about silicone...
Yeah, right. I got it in my lips, tits and ass...and I'm married to the richest slavepig in here, goddamnit. AND I go out four, five nights a week, fucking whoever I want, sometimes they come home and use Singleton's mouth and ass too!
Why aren't these women more friendly? But they ain't.
READ THE REST AT
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/tuesday-at-the-little-shop-part-one/7483076
|
|
|