deppin
04-19-2009, 4:24 PM
Have you ever had those discussions with friends and co-workers? How much money you would have to win to retire? With this-and-this amount you would still work, but call the company on all of its bullshit long hours or dumb short term decisions? You would definitely have the freedom to walk out if they really pissed you off?
With more and more, you could quit this place, and do something you liked - since you wouldn't need to make so much. One of the guys I worked with said he would just work at Best Buy. Another said she would work at an animal shelter. (My personal choice was always to work at a bookstore.)
When the jackpots were big enough that there were news stories? And that spurred tons of media interest? 110 million? 125 million? And then nobody won for a month, and it became astronomical? The ones you could blissfully give up any pretense of working any more? You could do whatever you wanted? You made agreements with the others on your team that you would give them a million each if you won, because it really wouldn't make that much of a difference.
I always figured you would get tired of lounging around eventually. I always secretly planned to hire a personal chef to cook healthy food. (You can tell I thought a lot about this.) I saw a picture once of a guy who won the lottery in Australia. Within several years he gained a tremendous amount of weight. The picture I saw of him, he was leaning over a wheelbarrow and his gut filled the entire wheelbarrow. I vowed that was never going to happen to me if I ever got lucky. (You can tell I _really_ thought a lot about this.)
I always made plans for the best way to get the ticket to the lottery office safely. Rent a limo? Fly on a plane? Drive at 5am? Would you drive as soon as you found out? Wait until 5 am? How would you store it during the drive? What if you opened the window accidentally on the way, speeding down the highway, and the ticket blew out? (Ok maybe I thought a little too much about this!)
Anyways, I won won of those jackpots. Nothing bad happened. I quit work and traveled around the United States, then around the world. I went back to school. I studied everything that interested me. I read whatever I wanted. I watched whatever I wanted. I bought a state of the art home theater. I built a basketball court in my house.
All during this time I pursued my fetishes and fantasies as well. Eventually, I told a woman friend how I loved giving pedicures. Her interest was piqued.
After talking for a few minutes she realized with disappointment I didn't know what was involved. She was frustrated and a little irritated.
"There's no reason for you of all people not to be on top of your game about this. You should have a pedicure kit ready and waiting. More women than you think will take you up on this. However, if you stumble around or skip steps like you just did - you aren't going to get to give pedicures to anybody!"
So, I enrolled in, attended, and graduated from the best cosmetology school. I opened my own salon. Everything was top of the line. I only hired the best people.
It was understood that at my salon, I was not only the owner, but I also gave the best pedicures. I also gave remote appointments. Once you were on my client list for a short period of time, pedicures were free.
My weeks were busy.
I was able to explore all of my fantasies. I touched and massaged and served thousands of women's feet. My submission grew by leaps and bounds. I began wearing chastity devices to keep myself from masturbating. I didn't wear them full time, but I wore them during the week to stay focused.
I cracked the seam of the polycarbonate plastic tube on my first chastity device. (For several weeks, I had been awakened in the middle of the night with an erection that had gone as far as it could go. I would begun rubbing it as best I could on the inside to get as much stimulation as I could. I guess I rubbed too much, or it was a faulty seam made that day.) I realized I needed to control my erections more.
Not because I didn't want to cum mind you. At first I masturbated three times a day. But with so many times cumming they were quick and mildly pleasurable, with only a small spurt. The wonder and worship for women diminished. (OK, maybe it was only a little bit - women were lower case instead of upper case Goddesses.)
With the chastity tube, my orgasms were twice or three times a week. Intense shuddering upon orgasm. I would cry out, laughing with moans of pleasure. Cum would shoot gushing like white sideways oil past my face and hit the wall next to my face.
After I split the tube, I researched what I could do. I found these plastic spikes named Points of Intrigue designed to keep the cock in the tube - some had reported being able to pull out of the back of the tube, these were designed to make the fit tighter. They came in three lengths and levels of points. (None, of course, were sharp enough to break skin.)
I first tried the large after spikes at work. I almost screamed with the pain after just getting the start of an erection. My first thought was 'I have to get this off - now!!!!' but every step also was an agony because it caused my cock to flex against the spikes. I walked as fast as I could to my private office and just lay on the floor, waiting desperately and for it to subside enough for me to get the points off - thankfully not that long!
The small points, on the other hand, provided very little punishment at all. Not enough to slow my erections, at any rate.
Just like Goldilocks with her porridge, for me the middle points were just right.
Women were Goddesses with a capital G. I was practicing self humiliation and domination sessions at night. Life was great for a while, then good, then acceptable, then boring again. Something was still missing. I went even further with my self sessions. I went from just wearing panties to wearing g strings. From lipstick to caked on lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara. From writing one or two humiliating things on myself to covering myself in degrading submissive statements.
I realized I wanted very badly to tell one of my clients about my submission. I wanted to give a pedicure with both of us knowing what was going on in my head and cock. I wanted to find a woman who was curious about it. I wanted to find a woman that wouldn't be offended. I didn't want to offend anybody. I knew I was a good guy, just wanting to please.
It thrilled me that I would be spreading knowledge among women about submissive men and their uses. Still, I worried about the legal issues. I worried about being sued for harassment due to a misunderstanding. I worried about a lot of things. I had convinced myself I couldn't do it, due to the risks.
Then she walked in.
With more and more, you could quit this place, and do something you liked - since you wouldn't need to make so much. One of the guys I worked with said he would just work at Best Buy. Another said she would work at an animal shelter. (My personal choice was always to work at a bookstore.)
When the jackpots were big enough that there were news stories? And that spurred tons of media interest? 110 million? 125 million? And then nobody won for a month, and it became astronomical? The ones you could blissfully give up any pretense of working any more? You could do whatever you wanted? You made agreements with the others on your team that you would give them a million each if you won, because it really wouldn't make that much of a difference.
I always figured you would get tired of lounging around eventually. I always secretly planned to hire a personal chef to cook healthy food. (You can tell I thought a lot about this.) I saw a picture once of a guy who won the lottery in Australia. Within several years he gained a tremendous amount of weight. The picture I saw of him, he was leaning over a wheelbarrow and his gut filled the entire wheelbarrow. I vowed that was never going to happen to me if I ever got lucky. (You can tell I _really_ thought a lot about this.)
I always made plans for the best way to get the ticket to the lottery office safely. Rent a limo? Fly on a plane? Drive at 5am? Would you drive as soon as you found out? Wait until 5 am? How would you store it during the drive? What if you opened the window accidentally on the way, speeding down the highway, and the ticket blew out? (Ok maybe I thought a little too much about this!)
Anyways, I won won of those jackpots. Nothing bad happened. I quit work and traveled around the United States, then around the world. I went back to school. I studied everything that interested me. I read whatever I wanted. I watched whatever I wanted. I bought a state of the art home theater. I built a basketball court in my house.
All during this time I pursued my fetishes and fantasies as well. Eventually, I told a woman friend how I loved giving pedicures. Her interest was piqued.
After talking for a few minutes she realized with disappointment I didn't know what was involved. She was frustrated and a little irritated.
"There's no reason for you of all people not to be on top of your game about this. You should have a pedicure kit ready and waiting. More women than you think will take you up on this. However, if you stumble around or skip steps like you just did - you aren't going to get to give pedicures to anybody!"
So, I enrolled in, attended, and graduated from the best cosmetology school. I opened my own salon. Everything was top of the line. I only hired the best people.
It was understood that at my salon, I was not only the owner, but I also gave the best pedicures. I also gave remote appointments. Once you were on my client list for a short period of time, pedicures were free.
My weeks were busy.
I was able to explore all of my fantasies. I touched and massaged and served thousands of women's feet. My submission grew by leaps and bounds. I began wearing chastity devices to keep myself from masturbating. I didn't wear them full time, but I wore them during the week to stay focused.
I cracked the seam of the polycarbonate plastic tube on my first chastity device. (For several weeks, I had been awakened in the middle of the night with an erection that had gone as far as it could go. I would begun rubbing it as best I could on the inside to get as much stimulation as I could. I guess I rubbed too much, or it was a faulty seam made that day.) I realized I needed to control my erections more.
Not because I didn't want to cum mind you. At first I masturbated three times a day. But with so many times cumming they were quick and mildly pleasurable, with only a small spurt. The wonder and worship for women diminished. (OK, maybe it was only a little bit - women were lower case instead of upper case Goddesses.)
With the chastity tube, my orgasms were twice or three times a week. Intense shuddering upon orgasm. I would cry out, laughing with moans of pleasure. Cum would shoot gushing like white sideways oil past my face and hit the wall next to my face.
After I split the tube, I researched what I could do. I found these plastic spikes named Points of Intrigue designed to keep the cock in the tube - some had reported being able to pull out of the back of the tube, these were designed to make the fit tighter. They came in three lengths and levels of points. (None, of course, were sharp enough to break skin.)
I first tried the large after spikes at work. I almost screamed with the pain after just getting the start of an erection. My first thought was 'I have to get this off - now!!!!' but every step also was an agony because it caused my cock to flex against the spikes. I walked as fast as I could to my private office and just lay on the floor, waiting desperately and for it to subside enough for me to get the points off - thankfully not that long!
The small points, on the other hand, provided very little punishment at all. Not enough to slow my erections, at any rate.
Just like Goldilocks with her porridge, for me the middle points were just right.
Women were Goddesses with a capital G. I was practicing self humiliation and domination sessions at night. Life was great for a while, then good, then acceptable, then boring again. Something was still missing. I went even further with my self sessions. I went from just wearing panties to wearing g strings. From lipstick to caked on lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara. From writing one or two humiliating things on myself to covering myself in degrading submissive statements.
I realized I wanted very badly to tell one of my clients about my submission. I wanted to give a pedicure with both of us knowing what was going on in my head and cock. I wanted to find a woman who was curious about it. I wanted to find a woman that wouldn't be offended. I didn't want to offend anybody. I knew I was a good guy, just wanting to please.
It thrilled me that I would be spreading knowledge among women about submissive men and their uses. Still, I worried about the legal issues. I worried about being sued for harassment due to a misunderstanding. I worried about a lot of things. I had convinced myself I couldn't do it, due to the risks.
Then she walked in.