Letter from Mount Ranier

LETTER FROM MOUNT RANIER

“Suds, get in here.” Tanis calls me from the copier room. I leave my office and go see her…what a hottie. Short red hair, high breasts thinly veiled by a neon pink sweater—she’s not my Special Assistant for nothin’.

“What’s wrong, Tanis?” I ask hesitantly. She flashes a boob shot—some Jenny McCarthy thing we’ve been passing around the office. She thinks, of course that I started it. Tanis can be a feminist when she likes. I shook my head, but there’s no belief in her eyes.

Tanis steps close to me, and grabs my balls through my pants. Everyone here at Industrial Linguistics would be horrified to see the boss being manhandled, but there’s no one near the copier. Tanis twists my testes until I nearly buckle, and laughs.

“I know your filthy mind, Suds. We’re going to see about this, right now.” Tanis shoves me back, laughing as I attempt to keep my balance. For twelve years she has been my dominant, and my Special Assistant, but every day she surprises me. “Get in your office and take down your pants. NOW.”

I protest in vain. “P-please, Tanis. Don’t do this. I’m innocent. I don’t even like blondes. I like redheads!” But this appeal to her vanity doesn’t work. Tanis follows the ball-grasp with a kick from her stockinged knee, and I buckle again, and then I walk quickly to my office.

My cock is hard now, like it never is for my sweet, chubby wife, and I shut the door, and unbuckle my pants from Rogers Peet, step out of them and fold them on the chair. A moment later, Tanis comes in, waving the Jenny McCarthy paper. “Well, it looks like Hattersly in Accounting may have done this, but I have to remind you why such trash on our copiers is degrading to women!”

Degrading! That’s such a laugh. When I met Tanis, she was bartending in a Coyote Ugly type of bar, and men said vile, disgusting things to her—and she enjoyed it! Often, when I call her house at night, hoping to be invited over, I hear men yelling and words like Cunt, Bitch, Ho being screamed. It’s only me, Suds, who has to be a gentleman.

And, of course her husband, who has to wait on her and her male friends. Him I really, REALLY feel sorry for.

Tanis’s husband, the financier Erdvynn Pyms, has it tougher than I do—Erd is Tanis’s full time chastity slave, and she has him  locked into a nasty looking gadget. When she’s at work here with me, Erd is supervised by Tanis’s daughter from her first marriage—they were flower children, I guess and called her Goldilocks, but she’s called Locksie, and is about nineteen years old.

Erd is retired, so Locksie keeps him working around the house, and when he seems to falter, she gives him a flogging with a variety of whips that they have there. I’ve visited a few times, and as I said before, Tanis’s  male friends don’t make things easy for Erd either.

Both Tanis and Locksie love getting laid, and the guys come and go, and when both girls are busy, they instruct Erd to use his mouth to please the overflow. This would make Erd rebel, but of course he’s locked in a chastity tube, and his wife and her daughter won’t allow him to be unlocked until he makes them happy…and that requires quite a lot!

It must be terribly humiliating for Erd—my BDSM activities are on the q.t., but Erd just got slippered on his bare buttocks in front of a group of laughing loafers a few nights ago. I was there briefly, but I took off before either Tanis or Locksie could do me any damage!

Sometimes I’ve dropped by and seen Erd hanging from the ceiling, his nipples clamped and his balls being dragged down by long chain weights…he’s sixty-nine, must truly have an iron constitution!

But, back to what happened this morning!

Tanis turns and locks the door behind her.

“So, Sudsy, did I tell you to keep your tighty whities up? Never mind.” Tanis grabs me by the arm, and holds me down on the desk with a half Nelson. She pulls my underpants down to my knees and takes her thin wooden paddle off the filing cabinet.

It’s one of those dealies that used to have a string and a rubber ball on it, you could whappity-whap it until the string broke off. I think it used to belong to Tanis’s eight year old until he broke it. I asked her once if she used corporal punishment on her kids, and she was horrified. “I’d never warp a mind by using a foreign object to hit—but your mind, Suds, is warped already.”

That it is.

The wooden paddle that used to bounce balls is thin, but certainly has a sting to it. Tanis bounces it off my cheeks, alternating between right and left as I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. We have secretaries, programmers, office assistants and the like out there, and I have to keep somewhat of a macho image, right?

After Tanis has made my bare buttocks absolutely pink, she sighs with satisfaction, and gets her black Strap out of my second desk drawer (why does she keep it all in my office? ‘Cause hers is filled with cosmetics and women’s magazines.)

“Now hold onto the desk, Suds, and lets not hear any squealing like a butchered Berkshire hog.” Tanis, a former Texas farm girl warns. “You are, after all, a CEO.” The first swat with the big Strap almost completely winds me, and then she goes at my bare butt for nearly ten minutes as I bite my hand to keep from, well, screaming like a Berkshire hog.

Then, and only then, does Tanis let me lie, my bare butt blistered and crunched into the unforgiving rug, as she lowers her pussy on my hard cock. It is one of the few times she’s not welted my dick, or put it under the paper cutter, pretending she’s going to make herself some sausage, or whatever other demonic thing comes into her fevered mind.

We fuck and she moans, and finally, after she’s cum three times, am I allowed to spurt. Then Tanis rides my face until she’s cleaned out again, and we return to our office duties.

It’s the only way to work!

Tanis reminds me of the first dominant girl I ever had—her nickname was Chlamydia, because of an unfortunate incident in 9th grade… and we had this really odd relationship.

We would get into fights over who was tougher, and she always knew she could make me cry. When we were kids, she’d wrestle me onto the ground and twist my arm behind me, telling me to say uncle…

And it was terribly embarrassing, because she was just a little blonde thing. When we were in high school, Chlamydia found a way to just hold me…but I had to ask for it! I’d go see her…all tough in my leather jacket and combat boots.

“What’s up, Suds? I got algebra” she’d tell me, as she waved her crop-top covered boobs in my face. She always made me beg for this, and I hated her for it.

“Can we go out to your daddy’s greenhouse, Chlamydia? I’d ask this, trying to look bored.

“What, so I can make you cry like a little bitch again? You want to do that?” Chlamydia would smile at me, and I’d just hate her, but what could I do, right?

We’d go out there, and I’d undress, blushing hotly at being naked in front of a cute girl who had NEVER let me see her naked, just in those tight shirts and short-shorts… Then when I was naked, we’d go up on the ladder, and Chlamydia would tie my wrists to one of the rafters, and I’d hang there, glowering at her.

Chlamydia would then go to one of her father’s rose plants and cut a long, thorny branch. I’d quail inwardly, but try to look tough as she came back, tapping the vicious switch in her gloved palm. “You sure you can take this?” she’d say. “If you can take twenty without crying, I might let you suck my titties…if you can take fifty, I might let you fuck me.”

But by swat three on my cock, I’d be bawling. And who wouldn’t? The thorny lash on my sensitive penis always sent me around the bend. “You are such a crybaby, Suds.” Chlamydia would say with joy as she went around and began whipping my ass.

I’d weep, but try really hard not to show how much pain I was in. And I’d struggle against my bonds as the whipping grew more vigorous, and my buttocks, lower thighs, cock and balls were in pure agony.

I’ll never forget how Chlamydia would look as she’d toss her Farrah Fawcett hair and swung the thorny branch until it finally broke and I was screaming like a three year old with diaper rash.

Then Chlamydia would gently stroke my cock with her pink nails, sometimes licking the tip with her tongue, and telling me what a pathetic little bitch I was. “I just can’t believe I actually know someone like you…it’s almost embarrassing…and you’re the tough guy with the leather jacket and the Harley, too.”

Finally Chlamydia would let me down, and treat my sores with witch hazel. I always kissed her tenderly when it was over, and told her how much she meant to me. In junior year, when she got pregnant, I sold my Harley so she could go away and have her baby peacefully. Everyone thought I was the father, instead of our vice principal, and I didn’t mind…I’d have done anything for Chlamydia!

My family name is  Pilsudski, but I’m called Suds for short—funny thing, since I never drank in my life, ‘cause the old man was such a lush. Did get dismissed from Classical High School for selling pot…and I’ve smoked my share, and dabbled with some of the pills and powders.

I got work at a head shop eventually—one of those places that sell drug paraphernalia, and after setting up their computer system realized I had too much brains to be wasting around—and I went back to school, developed a computer linguistics program and started my own company, and that’s how I met Tanis.

I got a sweet wife, we grew up together, and kids, but I never had too much interest in telling her about my “perversions” BDSM and the like, she’s a sweet Baptist girl and just advises me to keep my “other business” to myself.

It is fortunate, because I have occasion to travel in my business, and visit a number of interesting dominatrixes! In London I see Mistress Phoenix three times a year. Phoenix will sometimes lock me in her very cramped “scullery” for an hour.

Then when I’m released, will attach me to a pillory, hands and head locked up, while she tries out her collection of whips, canes, tawses, scourges, knouts, paddles and other paraphernalia on my defenseless bottom.

Then comes the strap-on! “Take a deep breath, Suds” There is nothing like having your entire rectum occupied by a huge rubber penis…in and out…

When Phoenix is in an especially good mood, she uses lubricant for the dildo, but otherwise the entire foot-and-a-half thing takes up my entire backside. “Think of it, Suds…imagine a man has his dick up your ass, you pathetic little poofter.” Phoenix’s Cockney accent whispers in my ear and the shoving goes on…

Finally, after she pulls it  out, she brings the shit-covered dildo to where I am trapped in the pillory and has me lick my fecal matter off the tip as if slurping a sundae. If I show any reluctance, Phoenix goes from the back and brutally attacks with one of her strong thick oak walking sticks.

In France, Mistress Christophe likes to tie me just above a burning candle, so my cock and balls can be “roasted”…I am always afraid the bonds will slip and I’ll fall on the candle, and sustain a second-degree burn!  Mistress Christophe is quite heartless, though, and sometimes eats a meal on my back as I hang over the fire.

In Naples, I have a regular deal with Mistress Mancini…Mancini is not a woman-born-woman, so I have breasts AND a cock to worship, but Mancini is just beautiful. Sometimes Mistress Mancini, bored with using her blacksnake whip on me, just butt fucks me, and the sodomy is something to write home about!

Mancini also loves it when I lick her scrotum, holding the balls in my mouth as she jerks off. Then I worship her huge feet, and suck her man-sized toes. Mancini is really a muscular sort, and after you’ve been paddled by her, it’s almost unbearable sitting down in business meetings for at least a week. She is five hundred Euros an hour, but well worth it.

Lady Eileen in Belfast is just the opposite—tiny, very estrogen filled, and feminine. Eileen ties me up and blindfolds me, and then teases me with her Irish brogue. “So you want an orgasm do ye? I can imagine. Ye filthy broth of a boy!” Then I feel a sharp pain on my balls! This means that Eileen has gotten her tri-stranded hand whip…each strand has five tinier strands, each with a child’s jacks on the end.

As I’m thrashed with this instrument, the jacks sting my crotch, and sometimes I burst into tears, but then I feel Eileen’s soft hand stroking me again, and I’m in heaven. She knows where the vantage points are on a man’s penis, and it just makes me crazy…and I’m ready to cum, when she starts up once again with the tri-stranded hand whip!

My linguistics program was recently purchased in Ecuador, and I had the benefits of meeting Mistress Consuelo, who enjoys using a cattle prod on me. But Consuelo also is quite the bullwhip mistress, and can curl the nasty thing around my naked buttocks and legs until I am ready for a nervous breakdown!

It’s weird how I’ve found my dominants. One day I was just walking down the street here in Mount Ranier, and I ran into Biff, or so we called him, the neighborhood bully who used to kick the shit out of me when I was a kid.

Biff had been a little psycho, really. Sometimes on the way home from school, he would throw rocks at me, and only after I promised to go into the woods with him, would he stop. Then he’d take my clothes off and corn-hole me and do lots of other nasty shit. It was really kind of unbelievable. But strangely, I was glad to see him again after all these years.

We went for a beer, and Biff apologized for being such an asshole, explaining that his father had been very abusive. But he was still a big, muscular dude, and when he told me that he was gay, I asked him if he’d like to re-create some old scenes (I showed him some greenbacks, of course, as he was out of work.)

Shoeblossom, this may seem very, very strange, but it was amazing what went on between Biff and me after this. We went to a hotel room, and he made me strip naked and he began twisting my nipples and kneeing me in the balls, telling me what a little weirdo I was…

Then he made me suck his cock and he came all over my face! And he took me from behind, and did it HARD. After this, Biff and I had an arrangement for quite some time…

We’d meet at a motel room that I paid for, and I’d put on a frilly dress and pink nail polish and Biff would show up and slap me around, and put out his cigarettes on my cock and balls, and rape my mouth and asshole, and use his belt on me! It was quite a lot of fun, though sometimes I was physically ill for a day or two after.

My nice Baptist wife would ask what had happened. Of course I’d taken off the dress and the nail polish and all that, but she could tell I’d been through something, and I would just smile weakly, and she knew then it had been an occasion for sin. But she is a don’t ask, don’t tell girl.

But Tanis is the best when it comes to domination. Her husband, Erdvynn and I have borne the brunt of a lot of abuse from her, but I doubt either of us would have it any other way.

Last Saturday Tanis told me to come over early in the morning and then she cuffed my balls to Erd’s balls in the chilly garage and left us there for eight hours while she and Locksie used my credit card to go out and buy some clothes.

Poor Erd and I were of course forced to either stand face to face to each other, as our balls were locked, or we had to lie down face to face on the garage floor. We couldn’t just sit up, and I’m sure Tanis and Locksie thought of this so we’d seem gay.

“It’s not easy, my lad” Erd told me philosophically, “But goodness how empty my life would be without my darling wife’s proclivities. I’ve not had orgasmic release in 83 days, and she is talking about me not cumming for perhaps six months, but I must bear it with fortitude.”

I was just horrified. I am fortunate not to be in a chastity training program and of course Tanis lets me fuck her, a fact I have not mentioned to Erd. I doubt Erd has even had his dick anywhere near his lovely wife in the fifteen years they’ve been married!

Tanis likes a lively cock in her, and when she met Erd, at the Mount Ranier Torture Terrace, our local BDSM society, she decided quickly that he would only be allowed to use his mouth on her tender pussy. But it seemed so unfair that he couldn’t cum!

“How-how is it, not getting to cum, Erd? Are you holding up well? Do you miss it a lot?” I didn’t know what to say. Also, of course we were so close, being locked together, that if I talked too much, I’d spit in his face. God the garage was cold.

Erd considered my question. “It’s easier perhaps in my sixties, of course, the passion isn’t quite what it was once…but my first wife, who unfortunately passed, also kept me in chastity for twenty-six years…Goodness, did Vivian have an arm for whipping, too…” His eyes got all faraway. I didn’t know what to say, of course.

“But you know, my boy, life would be so difficult for me, I’d have all these decisions to make, if I didn’t have my beloved Tanis, and her darling daughter Locksie taking care of me. I am actually quite fortunate…and of course I get to perform orally on them both, and I enjoy that. And when I do get to masturbate, they supervise, and do interesting things to me like throw ice-cold water on me just as I’m about to cum…isn’t that grand?”

Grand. That’s one word for it!

Well, Shoeblossom, I’m winding this one up. I am a happy, but disturbed man, as is my friend Erdvynn Pyms, but what can we do about it? Life is short, and we can only bear up. Thanks for listening!

Suds the Slaveboy

Dear Suds…

You’re not disturbed, you just have a unique life choice. And why not? Better than taking up something perverse like Transcendental Meditation, eh?

Best,

Shoeblossom

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