Well this is embarrassing. I’m not even two minutes into my first BDSM experience, and here I am already screaming the safe word (apricot) at the top of my lungs. I tell you, I really thought it would be a good 30 to 40 minutes before we got to this point, but then you tightened those leather restraints around my wrists and, boy, did that smart.
Yep, that’s the end of it for me right there. My pain threshold has been maxed out. I can only guess how much more the whip or candle wax would have hurt. Which is a shame, because I really thought this S&M stuff was for me. I mean, the whole thing just looked so appealing in the magazines and online websites.
But then, I guess this wouldn’t be the first time I got all jazzed up about a hobby only to find out I’d been taken in by the advertising. In retrospect, this is really just the Jack LaLanne Power Juicer all over again.
Anyway, I’m really sorry dominatrix lady. I know it took you forever to drive across town to the hotel. And I’m sure it wasn’t easy lacing yourself up into that leather corset you’ve got on there, but I’m afraid you’re not going to get to pinch any nipples or step on any scrotums today. I’m sure you were looking forward to it, but of course I’ll still pay you for the full hour.
Speaking of money, do you think I can return this gimp suit? I got it from Harold’s Slaves and Submissives down on 3rd. Given your profession I’m sure you’ve been there – any clue how strict they are on returns? I mean, there aren’t any bodily fluids on it yet, so I’ve at least got a good shot at store credit, don’t you think?
But then again, what would I do with $300 worth of store credit at the kinkiest sex shop in town? Maybe I could load up on edible underwear or something, I don’t know.
Boy, I tell you, my wife is going to have a field day with this. “Don’t go ordering a dominatrix,” she says. “Try slapping yourself in the face first and see if you like it.”
But did I listen? Heck no. As usual I just got an idea in my head and went completely overboard. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t even wear a t-shirt if the darn thing is too scratchy. Abrasive fabric makes me break out in a rash.
Oh well. Hindsight is 20/20, I guess.
Well anyway, here’s your money. Do yourself a favor and think twice before spending it on something frivolous. Which reminds me, if you or any of your friends are interested in investing in an alpaca farm, I’ve got one I’m looking to unload. You’ve got my number, so give me a call if you’re interested.
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