Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > virtualcuzi > A Dirigible lost on the wind! |
|
Still things I couldn't touch. I really don't know what I expected. In fact some of it got worse ,bringing what had happened closer to home. I really shouldn't have gone. I was questioned about the names of my teachers and my throat just tightened and wouldn't let out a word. It was hard to deal with the cruelty of it, and when I'd arrived back to the exact same place I'd taken the cane I felt the same aweful sensations returning. Odd how I made a point of putting my own subs through that to see how they'd deal with it. I thought I had it made. Just goof around and enjoy life. I could almost guess which girl was going to get it that day. The English one was our favorite for her pantomine performances, and when told to go to the room to wait there for the teacher we could feel the anticipation she felt. It amazed me how deep seated the desire in me was even though I was yet to reach the age when the 'curtains were spread open'. The English girl was bubbling with emotions. Her tiny English ass took control of your darkest imaginations. I remember boys would point at her in the gym class to whisper scoffing at her stupid little ass. Yes life was good, it was fun but would soon be burst apart when we got a change of teacher. This new one a real bitch and the discipline of the class switched away from the girls. I got the shock of my life when I was instructed to go to that little room to wait and I really thought a mistake had been made. Then when the class was settled into their assigned task she had time to slip away. She requested that I prostrate myself over the table to put my hands out way out in front of me onto the table. I looked at her seeking any chink in her expression but found none. Maybe even more hardened as she galvanized herself to complete her task. I imagined she was in cohorts with my drunk father who enjoyed giving his b*y a 'licking' with his belt. She took swipes through the air with that long gangly cane as if trying to gauge its mood. Then she took her purposeful stance at the optimal short distance behind my butt. Now years later the with my emotions once again raw and fired up it seemed that a trick of time had happened and it was as real as ever. The first one was as I plainly remember, cutting through the air to arrive curtly at the seat of my pants. It had a sharpness to it unlike my fathers belt. I couldn't see any way out so I knew I just had to roll with it and see it through. Then my mind took an unexpected turn and it was like being lost in a fog. The tension just seemed to fade as the strokes kept coming. It was kind of an out of body experience and I could hear my tear filled painful cries form a distance. I would do the same to the 'smarty pants' and that became the name for me by the girls who berated me. She devilishly laid down those strokes to leave an angry thin line across the buttocks and I shuffled home with that pain in my ass wondering what my butt would look like when I eventually got home to view it in the mirror. Which I did , admiring the firey red hash that confronted my startled eyes. I was then a changed person and it became my goal front and center to take that 'high' with me to pursue to its fullest. Fate had another surprise just waiting over the horizon for me. I remember the nervous energy I felt, it was the fix I'd become in need of. I'd got lost in thought, drifting away for what was maybe a few seconds before I heard the new principle inviting us in for tea or coffee. She seemed like an amazing woman and laughed heartily at the jokes I made with the others. Now that I think about it I was her focus and I'm sure she was drinking in all the wild emotions that came back to me. It was foolish to think I'd ever tame that space. The hard walls had captured it in a timeless way to reciprocate it back to me whenever I was around. I was soon to discover the polarizing effects of mental illness. I guess I was looking to find the start of all the madness to try to correct it from there. They were adorably well behaved k!d and one offered me a biscuit. [br[So much I knew that they had not the slightest tinkling of. Then I walked down to the road by the beach and bought fish and chips. I looked out over the calm bay on the sparkling blue skied day. I sat on the smooth concrete border and it returned the warmth of the sun. I drove out of the city feeling incredibly sexy. Later on I came with a force that I hadn't seen in years. Took me back to the high school days where I'd be almost passing out, struggling to remain on my feet a I was rocked by multiple cums. I'd learned to love drama too, obsessed by it and I arrived at the proffered address , sharply at the agreed time. Two o'clock in the morning. I loved the nighttime, so peaceful back then. We took things slow and I teased him. I was in total control. He had to play my game right before he'd get what he wanted. To nail a "T". I wanted to see his face so I set up the camera looking back from from my head. Be as mean as you like I told him, believe me I will enjoy it just as much as you when I rewind it and play it back. I loved the new form my butt was taking from the supplements I was taking. Some thought the cum was doing that. What a joke I thought. But it did play on my mind so I tried to keep his cum inside me for as long as I could. It did work too. There was an underworld of a certain type too and I was taken under the wing of a smart trans lady who saw that I could help her with her company. Real estate to climb the property ladder and pay the bills and her artistic indulgence to create something stimulating. That's how I got into acting and making my own movies. Dark and thoughtful the way I liked them. I wa revengeful in them, taking out the wrongful ones in unexpected bizarre twists. Sweet Stacey was a large colored girl who had no need to hide who she was. She was fulfilling a need, a perfect match made in heaven. The whites felt a guilt about how they'd transgressed this race and aw it was due for the roles to change. They became the miserable male servants that needed to make a profit to earn their keep. It was balls and chain stuff. The stuff you'd wish they'd put on TV. On fantasy Island. You'd find yourself on the sugar plantation. Today you'd be stacking coconuts onto the tray back, the colored Mistress would amble by looking them over deciding which one suited her. Maybe looked like they could do with a little humbling. Her teeth flashed whitely when the ropes bit a little too tightly. She liked her man lashed properly so she did it herself. She enjoyed the balls the most, and she'd pinch them trapping them in the sack as she bound the hook on. It was a convenient way to stretch your nuts. Your balls looked perfectly accommodated in her dark skinned hands. You noticed the ornaments on the wall, a throw back to cruel times when the black workers needed to be taught to 'tow the line'. Now it was you who must 'tow the line', your worthless little balls were valueless, not worth a spit ! Odd how you could feel a chill in this tropical warmness. She rolled up her sleeves to get down to the task. The frame held you sturdily on the flat of your back. then you noticed the thin rope set up on a pulley. It suddenly made sense what she was going to do. She deftly hooked the loop onto the hook bound onto your nuts. Then these were pulled up to a convenient height to 'get' at them. You'd heard stories that made you wonder. About the long strings that attached to them. You'd read about the things that were done in books. Like Robinson Crusoe only jacked up on crack. There were no laws here. Profit the only goal here ! Then picnic stuff was being put out, folding chairs and cane topped benches to hold the tea and food for the plump negro ladies to enjoy whilst watching your nuts being played with. The odd thing would give them a laugh too. The lemon cake they aye looked adorably soft. The white icing reminded you of you ! The stretch on your balls was becoming noticeable too. But what was the plan? Did they plan to play tennis with them? Yeah that'd work, or Badminton? Easy for those making the movie too as some fake balls would play that role. Hefty swings to propel your balls in a game !!!!! Then an old wooden shafted golf club was produced. You're thinking some pacific explorer left it here long ago. Maybe he left hiss skull here ! So then a lovely lady would be standing on your table toying with your nut with the iron headed shaft. "How do you do this?' she inquired of the others as she practiced her back swing. Some could hit a golf ball off the top of a beer can so it can't be that hard to make a clean swipe of them. She tapped your nuts with the iron head as she prepared to make her swing, eyeing off the fair way too !!!! It was in fact easier than golf as there were two balls to try and hit !!! She paid no attention to your 'grub', so long as it didn't get in her way.       Imagine my surprise when I found out that my opinion actually mattered!  |
|||
|
In dreams the world could be what you wanted. If you didn't have that then you really were lost !  Imagine my surprise when I found out that my opinion actually mattered!
| ||
|
dreams are hope an escape from the boring & can become reality I like using orange balls for golf but hard to find orange titlest!
| ||
|
I never could golf.......
| ||
|
dreams are hope an escape from the boring & can become reality I like using orange balls for golf but hard to find orange titlest! Imagine my surprise when I found out that my opinion actually mattered!
| ||
|
I never could golf....... Imagine my surprise when I found out that my opinion actually mattered!
|
 |
 |
 |
| Become a member to comment on this blog | ||
 |
×
×