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Dear Shoeblossom

Mistress Spurs is the most imaginative dominant I’ve ever known. I have been with various Masters, Mistresses, Dominas and Goddesses throughout Europe, Saudi Arabia and these United States, and except for one I met in Gstaad, there’s never been one quite like Spurs.

Spurs is only about five foot one, but she has ample breasts and fire-engine red hair she keeps in an enticing bun.

The other night I came to visit her and Spurs told me that a drunken bar pickup had drunkenly peed all over the bathroom floor and she wanted me to clean it up with my tongue.

I’m kind of a macho guy, and I objected to this. I had drunk her piss more than once, but a guy’s urine? Someone she’d just met who fucked her five or six hours ago?

Spurs kicked me in the nuts and ordered me to strip and I ended up cleaning her floor, the toilet seat and the bathtub (bastard had whizzed all over the john) while she fucked me with a strap-on dildo.

It is still a horrific image, I was licking the pee up on my hands and knees while Spurs jammed her dildo in and out of my suffering asshole.

“You have to know what a sad little bitch you are, Morehead, Spurs told me as she hammered away into my rectum.

“Guys like Trevor are who I fuck and suck and if Trev wants to let his waste go wherever in my bathroom, I know I have a sissy fag who I can get to mop it all up, right?”

As Spurs continued to grunt over my gaping hole as she shoved, she discussed peeing in my Rice Krispies, or shampooing my hair with her urine. She knows how vain I am about my glorious mop.

There have been times that Spurs has invited me in, and it turns out she had a couple of guys there (we are near the Air Force Base) The fellows have usually drunkenly fucked every hole in my girl and then cum all over her body, and I’ve been forced to lick her clean…and it’s so salty.

Spurs charges me a pretty penny for her services, and I don’t make a lot as Head Auditor at Botwyk & Blowther Amalgamated…but I can afford to come there about once every few months.

Spurs holds the key to my chastity belt and so I am basically incommunicado down there until I can afford to make a visit.

And sometimes I annoy Spurs and she refuses to unlock me, even after I’ve paid her and she’s stripped and whipped me and had me clean her place!

Women, right?

Spurs believes I really need to earn the right to cum and the six hundred bucks I pass her every visit is incidental.

And güvenilir bahis of course she uses me shamelessly to use and scrub her suite especially after she’s had a fuck-fest with her boyfriend.

“Morehead, you can’t clean worth balls.” Spurs really finds it revolting, going over my meager efforts to keep her place in good shape.

She has a two and a half foot braided leather thing called a Sjambok and it’s about two and a half feet long and fairly thick.

Usually after I’ve shown up, paid her and done some cleaning, Spurs reviews my work and then has me strip and lie over this incredibly uncomfortable wooden carpenter’s horse.

It is then she brings out this short, evil whip-thing.

After about thirty with the sjambok, I’d be crying and howling to her deep satisfaction, Spurs would pull out her strap-on, the one mentioned earlier in the bathroom pissing games, to punctuate her corporal punishment efforts.

After finally pulling her long, thick monster dildo out, Spurs would have me lick all my coprophilic crud from the phallus and then she’d strip naked and begin masturbating her clitoris in front of me.

“You like this don’t you, Morehead? It’s hard for you to be all locked in that cage and not get to touch my pretty, moist, shaved vaj, isn’t it…are you crying?

You poor baby, kneeling and naked on your knees, begging to be let out of that little lock…and I probably won’t even let you out to jack off…

You paid me, I teased you, and now you’ll probably just go home after boo-hooing like a little bitch.

I have other chastity boys who end up in situations where I have them locked up, and girls get upset because they’re making out with my guys…

And can’t get the guy to take off his pants because he couldn’t show her how I’d locked him!

I know that’s not a problem for you, you’re a chubby little Beta male, homely, Coke-bottle glasses, and you just sit at home on your free nights, probably watching porn and sadly tapping your chastity tube, all alone.

Because who would fuck you, being homely and relatively poor, it’s a shitty combination, right?

Do you want your key back, baby? No, no of course you don’t…I’ve completely hypnotized you for this life, I guess.”

It’s interesting though, I am not much of an Alpha male, but I’ve had a few cute girls in my life, most of whom I convinced to be dominants.

My ex-wife Nadine kept a large empty Mayonnaise jar filled türkçe bahis with keys on her mantle, all of which looked like the key to my chastity belt (Yes, I’ve had the damn belt for a long time).

I was allowed to take one key a day out of the jar if I was “good” (the definitions of “good” changed regularly) and in this massive jar, only three of perhaps two hundred keys actually opened my belt.

When I actually got the belt open, Nadine would cuff my hands behind my back and tell me my ordeal still wasn’t over. She would rub my cock with her long nails and telling me the many ways I could improve as a husband.

Nadine had such a great way of doing this, penile massage.

Generally, my ex-wife would have me sit on an uncomfortable chair and gaze into her enticing cleavage…Nadine was given to wearing leather vests and little else up top so I could just gaze into that plunging pink neckline.

My desperation during this time would be intense, and of course I’d spent so much time away from my wife’s soft, pretty hands, in that horrible tube. So her massages usually turned me into jelly.

After the massage was over, and I had gotten to cum into her nimble fingers…

Nadine let me clean her digits with my tongue and then she put the “working” key back in the jar and juggle it about so my chances to find it again would be scant.

With the daily drawings and Nadine’s on and off again decisions whether or not to let me cum after my rare discovery of the right key, I usually got about five releases a year…during twelve years of marriage!

I had met Nadine at a Thomas Circle Razor-Wire Roundup, and this was a BDSM munch for all the leather folk in the county.

She could perceive my submissiveness and my enchantment with her Italian-American beauty…and she was already quite experienced in doling out pain and (some ) pleasure.

At that time I’d travelled the world and met lots of different dominant men and women, and I’d found a good sinecure back in the States.

Yes here in Thomas Circle, and I felt a life with Nadine, a dominant wife, would be the way to live out my life…

Nadine was regular with the whip and the cane, and made me learn and evolve as a submissive male.

But then Nadine ran off with another woman if you can believe it, and I was at a loss for the longest time before taking up with Spurs.

When I finally found Spurs I could still barely afford to see her. At six hundred dollars a session, güvenilir bahis siteleri this wasn’t too often.

I had student loans, alimony and child support (Nadine had enticed me to adopt her brats, who were at expensive boarding schools) and other expenses that came up.

I spent a good deal of time just sitting around the house, flicking my cage dispiritedly and counting the days and my savings until I could see my little goddess Spurs again.

This was particularly arduous if Spurs had decided that I wasn’t deserving of an orgasm. She would still unlock me, and tie me down, cleaning my sweaty crotch area with witch hazel and soap…and sometimes teasing me, just a little bit!

And her comments could be so unkind!

“So this little slug of yours has been inactive for a long time, has it, Morehead?”

“Yes, Mistress Spurs. I am so horny and…”

“Shut up or I’ll use my boot heel to pound your scrotum into pudding, you bitchy little sociopath.”

She brooked little dissent, Spurs did!

Sometimes Spurs would decide I could cum, but under difficult conditions.

Securing my right hand (my dominant hand) behind my back and make me just rub my dick with my left, quite clumsily, until a timer went off was a favorite of hers.

Because, of course, when your dick has been locked for a long time, it takes a bit of stimuli to get it going again.

Other times Spurs would lock both hands behind my back and just make me rub my dick against the floor.

And I was so angry and weeping sometimes when I didn’t cum in time and was locked up again…

I’d kick my legs in tantrums as I’d be re-locked, and occasionally Spurs would be annoyed at this, and she’d take the sjambok to my bare ass to teach me a little respect.

Of course I could have gotten bolt cutters and removed the device, or even just told Spurs I wanted a different deal, but there was a stubborn part of me that wanted to work within her system.

It is not clear how I got to meet Spurs’s former sorority sister Caylin, but when Cay moved to Thomas Circle, Spurs asked me if I would help Cay find a place.

I have several investment properties, and you can guess the rest. Cay is adorable as well (Sororities seem to bring in the hottest girls, don’t you know?) and was extremely pleased that I could offer her an apartment at a reasonable price.

When Spurs left Thomas Circle to move to the West Coast, she gave Cay the keys to my chastity belt, which put Cay in an even better bargaining position for comfortable living.

When Spurs returned last June to be Caylin’s maid of honor at our wedding, she gave me a broad wink…

I think she gave us the sjambok as a present.

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