User:MineShaft

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Revision as of 04:50, 22 March 2007 by MineShaft (Talk | contribs)

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Hello!
If you want to leave a mash note, do it on my talk page.

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

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.

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 suitcase.

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.

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, my expensive vest, my chaps, my boots. As the sun went down, and as I drank more (and spat booze into his mouth), we started the tit scene.

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