User:MineShaft
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==True story== | ==True story== | ||
| − | He called himself Chip. I had reduced him to utter pleasure at the Mine Shaft. We'd talked together as educated men. I chain-smoked; he did not smoke. Per usual, I had given him my phone number. | + | I dressed in full leather kit, by then. Inside seam zippered leather chaps over ancient 501 Levi jeans, sometimes a garrison belt on the jeans. I've always liked western snap-closed two-pocket shirts, and I'm certain I was wearing one, probably in denim (and if so a Wrangler Work Shirt, one I'd probably ironed mostly with sizing but also with a bit of starch). I had my very expensive jacket on, of course, with bilateral chains and cock-rings in the epulets. And the leather cap, with the maltese cross at the fore. And high-heeled Justin pointed-toe cowboy boots. Yeah, me, a high leather queen. |
| + | |||
| + | He called himself Chip. I had reduced him to utter pleasure at the Mine Shaft. We'd talked together as educated men. I chain-smoked; he did not smoke. I was in full leather, he was not. Per usual, I had given him my phone number. | ||
He phoned me up, from Pittsburgh, Pennesylvania, and agreed to fly in to New York. Magically, I was there at the Port Authority Building where he magically appeared to me, along with Tommy, my understandingly-straight doper ex-con car service guy. I told straight Tommy I was handcuffing Chip. | He phoned me up, from Pittsburgh, Pennesylvania, and agreed to fly in to New York. Magically, I was there at the Port Authority Building where he magically appeared to me, along with Tommy, my understandingly-straight doper ex-con car service guy. I told straight Tommy I was handcuffing Chip. | ||
| − | Tommy drove for 27 minutes into Brooklyn mainly over the Gowanus Expressway. Chip was lightly chatty, as was I. It was the second scene. I had already determined that handcuffs were required before Chip entered my apartment. We were in Tommy's car, and no one was looking and so he consented, but Tommy saw and appreciated. But it was still daylight and we had to climb to my 4th floor apartment. Conseqeuently, the cuffs were off, but he carried them in his hand, along with his | + | Tommy drove for 27 minutes into Brooklyn mainly over the Gowanus Expressway. Chip was lightly chatty, as was I. It was the second scene. I had already determined that handcuffs were required before Chip entered my apartment. We were in Tommy's car, and no one was looking and so he consented, but Tommy saw and appreciated. But it was still daylight and we had to climb to my 4th floor apartment. Conseqeuently, the cuffs were off, but he carried them in his hand, along with his overnight bag. |
| − | Chip humbly entered my apartment, looking for action. I parked him in the bathroom, the first room in my apartment. He took my suggestion to use the occasion to thorougly pee and poop, with the understanding I might watch. | + | Chip humbly entered my apartment, looking for action. I parked him in the bathroom, the first room in my apartment. He took my suggestion to use the occasion to thorougly pee and poop, with the understanding I might watch. True luxury is a bathroom without a door; my bathroom was not luxurious, but I had removed that door. |
Rapidly, I moved him down the hall into the living room and then through the French doors of my bedroom. He willing allowed himself to be put into bondage as I did the chains, handcuffs and other stuff into the hooks at the French doors. He was nude. | Rapidly, I moved him down the hall into the living room and then through the French doors of my bedroom. He willing allowed himself to be put into bondage as I did the chains, handcuffs and other stuff into the hooks at the French doors. He was nude. | ||
| − | I had put on some leather, | + | I had put on some leather, a vest, my chaps, my boots, my cap. As the sun went down, and as I drank more (and spat booze into his mouth), we started the tit scene. |
| + | |||
| + | ===Tit Scene=== | ||
| + | I had already decided this would involve needles into his tits, something we had talked about at the Mine Shaft. I'd misappropriated boxes and boxes of injection needles from work and agree I shoulda been fired if I'da got caught. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I had him in reasonable bondage; if he worked at it, he could get out on his own accord. I used a black paisley handkerchief to blindfold him. He was willing. | ||
| − | + | We were both aroused. He bucked as if this was the first time he was in bondage, feeling the restraints, but I thought he'd been there before. I let him buck: it was so pretty. | |
| − | I | + | I abused his cock and he responded mildly, waiting for the prologue to get over. |
Revision as of 05:15, 25 May 2007
Yes, I have a cock piercing almost like this one (this is not a photo of myself). I used to have nipple rings, but these got in the way of the action (see Tit torture). I wear leather, and prefer the company of men who wear it also.
I am an American living in one corner of Iowa.
I call myself MineShaft because I am a graduate of that raunchy former New York leather sex club, The Mine Shaft.
I know what a spanner is. I support crescent-wrenching to hell.
True story
I dressed in full leather kit, by then. Inside seam zippered leather chaps over ancient 501 Levi jeans, sometimes a garrison belt on the jeans. I've always liked western snap-closed two-pocket shirts, and I'm certain I was wearing one, probably in denim (and if so a Wrangler Work Shirt, one I'd probably ironed mostly with sizing but also with a bit of starch). I had my very expensive jacket on, of course, with bilateral chains and cock-rings in the epulets. And the leather cap, with the maltese cross at the fore. And high-heeled Justin pointed-toe cowboy boots. Yeah, me, a high leather queen.
He called himself Chip. I had reduced him to utter pleasure at the Mine Shaft. We'd talked together as educated men. I chain-smoked; he did not smoke. I was in full leather, he was not. Per usual, I had given him my phone number.
He phoned me up, from Pittsburgh, Pennesylvania, and agreed to fly in to New York. Magically, I was there at the Port Authority Building where he magically appeared to me, along with Tommy, my understandingly-straight doper ex-con car service guy. I told straight Tommy I was handcuffing Chip.
Tommy drove for 27 minutes into Brooklyn mainly over the Gowanus Expressway. Chip was lightly chatty, as was I. It was the second scene. I had already determined that handcuffs were required before Chip entered my apartment. We were in Tommy's car, and no one was looking and so he consented, but Tommy saw and appreciated. But it was still daylight and we had to climb to my 4th floor apartment. Conseqeuently, the cuffs were off, but he carried them in his hand, along with his overnight bag.
Chip humbly entered my apartment, looking for action. I parked him in the bathroom, the first room in my apartment. He took my suggestion to use the occasion to thorougly pee and poop, with the understanding I might watch. True luxury is a bathroom without a door; my bathroom was not luxurious, but I had removed that door.
Rapidly, I moved him down the hall into the living room and then through the French doors of my bedroom. He willing allowed himself to be put into bondage as I did the chains, handcuffs and other stuff into the hooks at the French doors. He was nude.
I had put on some leather, a vest, my chaps, my boots, my cap. As the sun went down, and as I drank more (and spat booze into his mouth), we started the tit scene.
Tit Scene
I had already decided this would involve needles into his tits, something we had talked about at the Mine Shaft. I'd misappropriated boxes and boxes of injection needles from work and agree I shoulda been fired if I'da got caught.
I had him in reasonable bondage; if he worked at it, he could get out on his own accord. I used a black paisley handkerchief to blindfold him. He was willing.
We were both aroused. He bucked as if this was the first time he was in bondage, feeling the restraints, but I thought he'd been there before. I let him buck: it was so pretty.
I abused his cock and he responded mildly, waiting for the prologue to get over.
