All I did was punch a cardboard box. The job can get frustrating, and I get like an enraged bull at times when things don't go my way, but I've never hit anybody- well, not outside of a real fight anyway. I'm not in the best of shape, but I'm a big guy and I can hold my own.
So my supervisor made me report to some new-age sissy "Anger Management" class- see what happens when you put a woman in charge of a warehouse? She'll act so tough, like one of the boys, but deep down she's really afraid of us big burly men. They always want to tame us, but once a guy's whipped they'll lose interest and end up in bed with your best friend...not that that's ever happened to me, of course. And then some PhD chick'll say "Aha, so that's why you're carrying around all that anger." blah blah yadda yadda...
They make me strip down to my shorts in a bare concrete room, and worse than that they put these sort of handcuff things on my ankles. Guess so I won't kick- what am I, a mule??
I hear the counselor approach, the clip-clop of heels on bare floor- I knew it'd be a chick- Wow! She's a real looker too, all dressed up for some fancy NY office, definitely not "one of the boys" hat the warehouse- I suddenly feel painfully underdressed in my Fruit o the Looms....
"Well, Mr ____" yadda yadda, sign the waiver, can I go now? Blah blah..
"I need to work you through some anger issues. But first, please put these on" It's like a metal band, rubber padding on one side. Takes me a minute to realize it's wrist-cuffs
"Are you kidding? I'm not putting those on, miss." Note I haven't used the "B-word" even once yet; I'm a gentleman, that's why I don't deserve what's to come...
"They're for my protection. This session could get...rather heated...rather emotionally intense....." she pulls down the neck of her blouse, I think she might be coming on to me, but then I see why- she's revealing a scar just below the neck-line "Sometimes during these sessions, a man will lash out." I see. I begin to boil a little, the thought of a man attacking a woman, ANY woman...
Soon as the wrist-things are secured, she loops a cable around them and trusses me up to the ceiling. "What the..?" I almost gasp.
She's quick, I'll give her that. Before I guess what's coming she's crammed a smooth tennis ball into my mouth- a gag of some kind- with straps she's securing around the back of my head.
"Whuh thuh? Due, I c'n Stw twk!" (Dude, I can still talk- just muffled)
"This is just to keep the noise level down. You'll understand why soon enough." She gets right up in my face, beaming this evil grin...
"First I've gotta make you really angry- then I've got a sure-fire method of releasing all that negativity..."
She walks behind me, holding something that I can't see, but I hear drag across the ground. Pauses- she's checking me out! Looking me up and down, I can feel it! I'm stretched out towards the ceiling, almost on tippie-toes, it's not very comfortable, stripped to my tightie-whities (which are dark green, I never wear white underwear, it always goes grey in the laundry) and she's looking me up and down...(hey, at least she enjoys what she sees, but it's kinda creepy)
"I see you're enjoying this" OMG I've never felt so mortified! "really enjoying this..." drops of sweat on my forehead that I just can't get to....really makes me feel extra-naked...
Krak!!! A sharp sting across my backside..WTF??? Krak!! Again...feels like a belt? Like when my dad used to whip me as a kid- nothing abusive; back then that's just how normal parents punished kids, just a few cracks with the belt, never left a mark, never scarred the psyche....KRAK!!! ..never got out of hand like this...
She's giggling! Krak!!! "Mmmmmngh!!" It really, really starys to hurt when someone hits the same spot three times. Now I see, when my dad whipped me it was all sound and effect, it stinged a little, but nothing, NOTHING like this.
Krak!!! She picks up the pace. I can take it, I can take everything. I want to bawl like a little sissy, but I'm a man, I can take it... Krak-krak krak!!! Krak! I lost count now....
I'm breathing hard, through the gag. My whole body feels hot, my face is flushed, and I'm hard as a tree!! How long will this last? Will she kill me???
Clip clip clip she strides around to the front of me, triumphantly, smirking! Holding the belt, dangling it casually- everything about her mannerism makes me feel small, embarassed; I'm shaking a little...
"I see a part of you enjoyed that..." I growl through the gag, helpless to form words now.... "Yesss..." She caresses my cheek, my chest is heaving, face all sweaty and red... she's enjoying ths way too much! And I'm SOOO greatful for the break from the pain...
She clip-clops over to her Dr's bag on the table. Slowly, tauntingly rummages through the bag... my eyes are wide with fear now, and she sees it, savors it, what horrible implement will she bring out of that bag?
What am I in for now???
A towel. She begins to dry me off, I'm dripping with sweat. And it does feel real good, her little hands all over me with that towel...OK so sue me for having impure thoughts when I'm alone with a pretty girl in a torture chamber!!
"Poor boy! That was quite a workout for you..." runs her long fingernails down my chest- I wince cause it tickles a little, arouses me...
Back to her bag... now I'm getting nervous again. She pulls out...
A feather duster? TWO feather dusters?? (What, she gonna whack me across the face with a pillow next??)
"Now, my large friend, it's time we released some of that tension..."
ROUND TWO-TICKLING
When it first hits, you just can't imagine how much something can tickle. Every time after it's that way too, you're just shocked that something can be so intense.
She just picks spots at random- arms, chest, legs, nipples- and creates these explosions all over my skin. I bust out laughing behind the gag, but I can even hear the fear in my voice- it's not a good healthy laughter, but more like desparate, pleading, helpless...
I hold it back after that first unexpected assault- I'm not gonna cave under pressure.
"Mmmmm... I like that" she teases "A little game! A challenge! Let's see how long you can hold out, little boy..."
Arms, elbows, knees, chest....good thing she can't reach the soles of my feet or I'd be done for!!
Aaaah!! The tops of my feet, not the tops of my feet!!! Please not there!! I'm convulsing, biting down hard on the ball-gag... gotta hold it in.....
"Mmmmm H-h-h-h-h-h-h- nggh!!! nnnnnggghh!!!! h-h-h-h-..."
"There we are, sweet boy" I think my face is gonna explode, it's too much, my toes are like... it's like the sensation is spreading everywhere randomly....Please oh PLEASE move somewhere else, I can't take this...
Then she assaults both my front and back at the same time with the two dusters. At least my feet have a rest, but I'm doing this pathetic dance, twisting and writhing- escape one set of feathers and bump into the other, and back and forth.
"Oooh... you're dancing for me!"
Wherever she touches, I squirm and twist away- she pauses a second (and I nearly collapse in relief- how long had this been going on? I watched the clock for a bit at first, and even ten seconds was a nightmare!)
She pulls out her cell phone, sets it to play some girly dance music, a special mix with an old-time music box tinkling a waltz over the beat. Not this!!
She makes me "dance" again, to the music- twisting, shaking, her giggling at the sight, me laughing spasmodically, uncontrollably...
She tickles my face. MY FACE!! It's the most awful thing you can imagine, feathers getting into my nose so I don't dare breathe! My eyes feel like they're tingling to the point of popping....I can't fight it, I can't bite the feather duster cause I'm gagged...I feel like a headache's forming, but she backs off just enough so that won't happen... OMG she's skilled at this! How many men has she done this to before???
Then, I almost don't realize it's stopped. I'm so out of it, I spill the juice she gives me to drink (somehow the gag came off.. I don't remember) all down my front...She's letting me down now, steadying me...
THE CHOICE
She's smiling at me- this big, wonderful smile, right into my face... and I'm smiling back!!! I can see it reflected in her glasses, I'm beaming back at her!
She's helping my exhausted, shaking limbs into some sort of padded...something or other... a crate? Like a big foam-padded carrying case....
"What? What?" I try to ask.
"Get in the box, Hon. We need to sneak you back to my place..."
Then it dawns on me- if I get in that case, there's no going back. I'll be choosing a life at Her mercy, every day to suffer worse than I did today... Do I really want that? Can I really handle that???
(Do I really wanna stay in my old life anyway?)
I take a good look at the box- there's holes for my feet, and a removable end cover- OMG she's gonna tickle my feet all the way home while I'm locked in that box!!!
She's looking me in the eyes now, pleading in her own internal sort of way...I can see she's on edge, hoping for this more than anything else in life...waiting to see what I'll do...
I DIVE into that crate, man!!! She locks me up, and wheels me out to her van....and OH BOY what an agonizing ride it's gonna be to my new home, cause once she pulls out of the parking lot, I'm gonna hear the cover come off, feel the air on my naked feet (the one spot she hasn't worked over yet)...and exhausted or not, we're both gonna find out how ticklish those soles really are!
What can I say? I think I'm in love!! 🙂
So my supervisor made me report to some new-age sissy "Anger Management" class- see what happens when you put a woman in charge of a warehouse? She'll act so tough, like one of the boys, but deep down she's really afraid of us big burly men. They always want to tame us, but once a guy's whipped they'll lose interest and end up in bed with your best friend...not that that's ever happened to me, of course. And then some PhD chick'll say "Aha, so that's why you're carrying around all that anger." blah blah yadda yadda...
They make me strip down to my shorts in a bare concrete room, and worse than that they put these sort of handcuff things on my ankles. Guess so I won't kick- what am I, a mule??
I hear the counselor approach, the clip-clop of heels on bare floor- I knew it'd be a chick- Wow! She's a real looker too, all dressed up for some fancy NY office, definitely not "one of the boys" hat the warehouse- I suddenly feel painfully underdressed in my Fruit o the Looms....
"Well, Mr ____" yadda yadda, sign the waiver, can I go now? Blah blah..
"I need to work you through some anger issues. But first, please put these on" It's like a metal band, rubber padding on one side. Takes me a minute to realize it's wrist-cuffs
"Are you kidding? I'm not putting those on, miss." Note I haven't used the "B-word" even once yet; I'm a gentleman, that's why I don't deserve what's to come...
"They're for my protection. This session could get...rather heated...rather emotionally intense....." she pulls down the neck of her blouse, I think she might be coming on to me, but then I see why- she's revealing a scar just below the neck-line "Sometimes during these sessions, a man will lash out." I see. I begin to boil a little, the thought of a man attacking a woman, ANY woman...
Soon as the wrist-things are secured, she loops a cable around them and trusses me up to the ceiling. "What the..?" I almost gasp.
She's quick, I'll give her that. Before I guess what's coming she's crammed a smooth tennis ball into my mouth- a gag of some kind- with straps she's securing around the back of my head.
"Whuh thuh? Due, I c'n Stw twk!" (Dude, I can still talk- just muffled)
"This is just to keep the noise level down. You'll understand why soon enough." She gets right up in my face, beaming this evil grin...
"First I've gotta make you really angry- then I've got a sure-fire method of releasing all that negativity..."
She walks behind me, holding something that I can't see, but I hear drag across the ground. Pauses- she's checking me out! Looking me up and down, I can feel it! I'm stretched out towards the ceiling, almost on tippie-toes, it's not very comfortable, stripped to my tightie-whities (which are dark green, I never wear white underwear, it always goes grey in the laundry) and she's looking me up and down...(hey, at least she enjoys what she sees, but it's kinda creepy)
"I see you're enjoying this" OMG I've never felt so mortified! "really enjoying this..." drops of sweat on my forehead that I just can't get to....really makes me feel extra-naked...
Krak!!! A sharp sting across my backside..WTF??? Krak!! Again...feels like a belt? Like when my dad used to whip me as a kid- nothing abusive; back then that's just how normal parents punished kids, just a few cracks with the belt, never left a mark, never scarred the psyche....KRAK!!! ..never got out of hand like this...
She's giggling! Krak!!! "Mmmmmngh!!" It really, really starys to hurt when someone hits the same spot three times. Now I see, when my dad whipped me it was all sound and effect, it stinged a little, but nothing, NOTHING like this.
Krak!!! She picks up the pace. I can take it, I can take everything. I want to bawl like a little sissy, but I'm a man, I can take it... Krak-krak krak!!! Krak! I lost count now....
I'm breathing hard, through the gag. My whole body feels hot, my face is flushed, and I'm hard as a tree!! How long will this last? Will she kill me???
Clip clip clip she strides around to the front of me, triumphantly, smirking! Holding the belt, dangling it casually- everything about her mannerism makes me feel small, embarassed; I'm shaking a little...
"I see a part of you enjoyed that..." I growl through the gag, helpless to form words now.... "Yesss..." She caresses my cheek, my chest is heaving, face all sweaty and red... she's enjoying ths way too much! And I'm SOOO greatful for the break from the pain...
She clip-clops over to her Dr's bag on the table. Slowly, tauntingly rummages through the bag... my eyes are wide with fear now, and she sees it, savors it, what horrible implement will she bring out of that bag?
What am I in for now???
A towel. She begins to dry me off, I'm dripping with sweat. And it does feel real good, her little hands all over me with that towel...OK so sue me for having impure thoughts when I'm alone with a pretty girl in a torture chamber!!
"Poor boy! That was quite a workout for you..." runs her long fingernails down my chest- I wince cause it tickles a little, arouses me...
Back to her bag... now I'm getting nervous again. She pulls out...
A feather duster? TWO feather dusters?? (What, she gonna whack me across the face with a pillow next??)
"Now, my large friend, it's time we released some of that tension..."
ROUND TWO-TICKLING
When it first hits, you just can't imagine how much something can tickle. Every time after it's that way too, you're just shocked that something can be so intense.
She just picks spots at random- arms, chest, legs, nipples- and creates these explosions all over my skin. I bust out laughing behind the gag, but I can even hear the fear in my voice- it's not a good healthy laughter, but more like desparate, pleading, helpless...
I hold it back after that first unexpected assault- I'm not gonna cave under pressure.
"Mmmmm... I like that" she teases "A little game! A challenge! Let's see how long you can hold out, little boy..."
Arms, elbows, knees, chest....good thing she can't reach the soles of my feet or I'd be done for!!
Aaaah!! The tops of my feet, not the tops of my feet!!! Please not there!! I'm convulsing, biting down hard on the ball-gag... gotta hold it in.....
"Mmmmm H-h-h-h-h-h-h- nggh!!! nnnnnggghh!!!! h-h-h-h-..."
"There we are, sweet boy" I think my face is gonna explode, it's too much, my toes are like... it's like the sensation is spreading everywhere randomly....Please oh PLEASE move somewhere else, I can't take this...
Then she assaults both my front and back at the same time with the two dusters. At least my feet have a rest, but I'm doing this pathetic dance, twisting and writhing- escape one set of feathers and bump into the other, and back and forth.
"Oooh... you're dancing for me!"
Wherever she touches, I squirm and twist away- she pauses a second (and I nearly collapse in relief- how long had this been going on? I watched the clock for a bit at first, and even ten seconds was a nightmare!)
She pulls out her cell phone, sets it to play some girly dance music, a special mix with an old-time music box tinkling a waltz over the beat. Not this!!
She makes me "dance" again, to the music- twisting, shaking, her giggling at the sight, me laughing spasmodically, uncontrollably...
She tickles my face. MY FACE!! It's the most awful thing you can imagine, feathers getting into my nose so I don't dare breathe! My eyes feel like they're tingling to the point of popping....I can't fight it, I can't bite the feather duster cause I'm gagged...I feel like a headache's forming, but she backs off just enough so that won't happen... OMG she's skilled at this! How many men has she done this to before???
Then, I almost don't realize it's stopped. I'm so out of it, I spill the juice she gives me to drink (somehow the gag came off.. I don't remember) all down my front...She's letting me down now, steadying me...
THE CHOICE
She's smiling at me- this big, wonderful smile, right into my face... and I'm smiling back!!! I can see it reflected in her glasses, I'm beaming back at her!
She's helping my exhausted, shaking limbs into some sort of padded...something or other... a crate? Like a big foam-padded carrying case....
"What? What?" I try to ask.
"Get in the box, Hon. We need to sneak you back to my place..."
Then it dawns on me- if I get in that case, there's no going back. I'll be choosing a life at Her mercy, every day to suffer worse than I did today... Do I really want that? Can I really handle that???
(Do I really wanna stay in my old life anyway?)
I take a good look at the box- there's holes for my feet, and a removable end cover- OMG she's gonna tickle my feet all the way home while I'm locked in that box!!!
She's looking me in the eyes now, pleading in her own internal sort of way...I can see she's on edge, hoping for this more than anything else in life...waiting to see what I'll do...
I DIVE into that crate, man!!! She locks me up, and wheels me out to her van....and OH BOY what an agonizing ride it's gonna be to my new home, cause once she pulls out of the parking lot, I'm gonna hear the cover come off, feel the air on my naked feet (the one spot she hasn't worked over yet)...and exhausted or not, we're both gonna find out how ticklish those soles really are!
What can I say? I think I'm in love!! 🙂
