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| My dedication is fickle so keep me happy and I'll stay with you.
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Today is my Birthday and I played a mind game of my own today. My mistress is a great person but I wasn't getting what I wasnted out of it so I fucked her over. She thought the collar meant something to me, it didn't mean shit I just wanted to get laid, I hate being a vigin and she wouldn't do that so I packed up and left her stranded with no vehicle and I'm shutting off her utilities tomorrow so she'll be without power or heat or hot water. Teach a bitch to not fuck with me. I hate Dommes who dont put out.
So if you're looking for a good sex pet and will pay everything and let me game when we're not fucking I'm free again! |
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i've got another one that i like to retell. now, its not that i'm into degradation or humiliation or that ego crushing shit. this does not turn me on. having done this makes me feel proud. i am amazed at what i'm willing to do for the woman that claims me.
i'm outside cleaning the yard, moving a few things out to the curb. one of the thigns that needs moving is this trash can.
contents of trash can:
moldy, soured, dirty diapers.
soiled baby wipes,
brimming with stagnant rain water.
this stuff put a stink on me that i just dont think you can shower off.
at the time, i'm wearing my training collar.
let me tell you a lil about this collar. i loved that collar. i do love that collar. i still have it. i had to jump into the air and grab this thing with my teeth after it was cut offa me in a punishment. this collar is leather with metal spikes that go around the outside of it and a stainless steel bucket. in the front, it has a no ring suspended in a v shape by little chains. i love this collar. my room mate (former mistress) made it for me. thinking about it right now still nearly makes me cry.
so back to the story...i bend over and pick up this little trash can. i manage to get it about 3 inches off the ground when the smell hits me in the face like a brick. i drop the can. it splashes. i've suddenly got shit all in my hair, on my shoulders, arms, hands, chest...there was a moment when i wanted to vommit...something about the smell had already cured that. if i was gonna puke, i woulda already.
so i'm freakin out checking my collar. the first thing i do is pull it off and check it for shit. oh thank goddess its clean! so i find a safe place for it and get back to waht i'm doing. the can goes by the curve and i report back to my room mate(former mistress) still without my collar and still covered in shit. she says "pet! where is your collar?" and i say "i took it off to keep it safe" she looks at me for a moment and says "good boy" and sprays me off with a hose outside which i enjoyed alot.
no, there really isn't a bottom to my dedication.
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one of the first examples i'd like to post that prove my dedication is a story taht happened tonite.
i was out taking one of my room mate(former mistress) friend's home when it starts raining.
now, this isn't too big a problem, but my room mate (former mistress) has a yard sale going, so now that it's pouring, all the thigns we left outside are going to get drenched!
this is when i decide to speed home, drench myself from head to toe, get all the savable stuff in, and manage to get inside just before an asthma attack cripples me on the stairs. its time for an albuterol treatment.
it was just about this time that her husband drives home from the bar. they were at the bar when this happened. i missed a few things, and we and a few of her friends spent a few minutes getting the rest of the things out of the rain.
this is what i'd be willing to do for the woman that claims me.
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you know...there's a saying that actions sometimes speak louder than words. and yeah...i think they do. so if i do get any lookers on this site, they're going to go "what does this chubby bitch have to offer me?" i've decided i'm going to start making that perfectly clear. i am a good boy. i am a very good boy. there is no bottom to my dedication. no flaw to my loyalty.
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| Age: 21 |
| Deplhos,
Ohio |
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