Goddamned Bus Drivers and the “Innocent” Bystanders Who Shove You Under

Well this is just fucking great.

Got a call from N this morning, He says “I have a packaged coming for me from UPS. I bought you something. You can’t open it.”

I heard that dark gloating glee in His voice and my asscheeks clenched and my tits tightened up. That tone never bodes well for me. Looks like I have some self-preservation after all.

I placed the box on the counter and glared at it. I shook it – firmly packed. Medium weight…could it be a RingofSteel collar like I’d been begging for? Or maybe a pretty whip or delicious flogger, curled up in wait like a pleasurable viper? The box label didn’t tell me much, and I figured that I could back trace the address if I wanted… but N told me I couldn’t snoop. Otherwise I would have opened His email the minute He hung up.

He spent the day mocking me on FL.

Finally shoved the kids to bed, and He calls me to His desk. I dragged my feet as I went…there was something about how much amusement and laughter He had that really made me worry. I knelt and waited as He leisurely cut the tape, pulled apart the packing paper…and hid the invoice against Him. Bastard – er I mean Love You, Sir. I was so impatient, but I didn’t want anything to come out of the box…

and out pops this:

 

That's right, it's a goddamned Njoy sticker. Nothing good can come of one of these coming out of a mystery box.

If I could have, I would have quickly tossed the box into the garbage without going any further.

He pulled out the box, and I will admit, it is a pretty box. I kept wishing against hope that He bought the pleasure wand. Or maybe (ha!) the pfun plug for Him.

Nope. Out comes a beautiful medium pure plug. It’s heavy, it’s all smooth curves and polished metal. I would say it’s too pretty, too beautiful to shove up my ass, but I guess I don’t get a say.

 

One of the things that makes me say "Oh fuck me, please no".

He taunted me with it for a bit, then told me to get on my knees and flip my skirt up. “Now?!” I squeaked. I wheedled, trying to get out of it…no avail. Backed into the proverbial corner, I asked where the lube was.

“Spit is a lube.” He countered.

I scoffed. “Spit is never an acceptable lube.” His eyes hardened a little bit and I hastily amended “Please?”

“Fine. Make it quick.” He grunted.

So I did, and I knelt, Flipping my skirt over my back. Oh, was it cold. Heavy. Foreign. I kept telling myself to breath, to open up…and He popped it right in. I grunted, and felt my ass trying to understand why this blob of metal had suddenly taken up residence. He patted my ass cheek and laughed. “How’s it feel?” He cooed solicitously.

“Like a chunk of stainless steel in my ass.” I replied crossly. Really, what is a good answer to that? “Like rainbows and butterflies”? “An orgasm and bliss all rolled up”?

So here I sit. It takes some getting used to, but I’m not doing too bad. I can feel the ring of muscle randomly adjusting. It’s noticeable when I walk, but when I sit it actually doesn’t hurt or anything, which is a blessing.

Except that He is talking about extended wear. Fuck.

I guess I don’t mind it, except (there’s always an “except…” with me) that to me, it’s a constant feeling of invasion, of humiliation, of no personal boundaries. (Quit laughing at me) I don’t know if it gets easier to assimilate into your mind, but right now I haven’t’ really forgot or become used to there being metal plugging my ass.

I know it is the point, but goddamn.

 

I would like to also point out that this post made my spellchecker have a stroke.

8 thoughts on “Goddamned Bus Drivers and the “Innocent” Bystanders Who Shove You Under

  1. Sucked in. That was just the first thing that came to mind. There might be some sympathy in there somewhere…nup…can’t seem to find it.

      • Awesome ‘cos one did mention on kaya’s blog that if her large njoy wasn’t included in their new plans, you would be happy to give it a new home. And seeing as you have outgrown yours already… šŸ™‚

  2. Pingback: Extended Plug Wear « alwayshistora

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s