Tuesday, November 13, 2012

The alphabet of Fetish

After spending some time randomly picking letters and numbers, and then writing fantasies around that many fetishes (you can see those entries below), I thought about the idea of a long running fantasy, one in which I had to do at least one thing for every letter of the alphabet.

That led to this, The ABCs of Fetish:



DAY ONE:
 This morning, I was given orders. With my cock firmly locked in its brand new cage, I was to insert the big plug into my ass before work. The day would be spent bound and full, and I was not to go to the bathroom at work. I had to-- well, let me just tell you what happened.

I went to a bar for lunch. It was supposed to be a 'dive' bar, and it was. I ordered really greasy food, hoping the plug would keep things in when my stomach turned. I drank two beers right away, as I was told. It wasn't long before I had to go to the bathroom.

So into a stall I went. I closed it behind me, but didn't lock it: slaves apparently don't GET privacy. The best I could do was lean against the door while I pissed.

It sounded odd going into my water bottle. I didn't think it was at all possible that someone would mistake the sound for me using the actual toilet.

When he came in, I heard him stop and listen. I heard the chuckle. Then the door shook a little when he wrapped on it with his knuckle.

I screwed the top back on the bottle, zipped myself up, and opened the stall.

He wasn't an attractive man, but I've seen worse. The lecherous smile on his face was almost infectious as he looked at the bottle in my hand, my cock shriveled in its cage, and then over at the toilet, empty and unused.

He stepped past me and sat down. I wondered if this was a setup; did he KNOW about my orders? When he pulled his pants down to his ankles to use the toilet, it seemed like he did. When he pulled out his cock and waved me forward, I was certain.

He farted as he came in my mouth. Then he patted me on the head and told me to go ahead and swallow. He asked if I'd be there again tomorrow. I didn't answer, but I think we both knew.

Back to work, water bottle in hand. For the rest of the day, I was to drink from the bottle. If I had to go again, all I could do was refill.

According to the rules, there was only one way I could avoid it: if I don't want to drink my piss, then I have to drink someone else's.

But that's for another day, I guess.

DAY TWO:
I've been locked up now for six days, and today, I found out what it will take to get the key back: I have to go through the alphabet. If I do more than one letter a day, then I'll get it faster. But if not, I have another twenty six days until I can have any hope of release.

The bathroom incident last week counted for several letters: A (anonymous encounter); B (blow job, butt plug, and bisexuality); C (chastity device); D (degradation, deep throating, double penetration); F (face fucking), and a bunch of others.

But, since I skipped E, that's where I have to start; nothing else counts. So today, I have to do something that starts with E. And I have to write about it in my journal. In fact, I have to write about all of it in my journal. That's part of the rules.

So today, I went out and got a pair of latex shorts. They stretch, but they're nice and tight around my legs. Which is good, because before I left for work, I gave myself an enema. It's still there (held in by the shorts and a butt plug), and my stomach is cramped as all hell. But it was just warm water, so sooner or later my body will absorb it. Already the pain is lessening.

But while it was still there, I decided to try to get F out of the way. For that, I needed the help of Trudy, the girl who works in the sex shop I go to. She has great feet, and today she was wearing open sandals. She was kind enough to let me lick her feet and suck on her toes while she waited on another customer (which technically gives me exhibitionism as well). She said she'd be happy to help with my alphabet; I'm supposed to come back to her for at least S and T.

We'll see how it goes.

One thing I know for sure: later on, Trudy is going to help me with G. She said she needed time to drink some water, but as soon as I finish posting this, I'm going back there and she's going to give me a golden shower. She said she'd do it as long as I promised to let it dry naturally and just go back to work.

I'm going to stink, I think.



Want to read the rest? It's in Book One

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