Posted by humanchimp
on Tue 12 Feb 08, 2:55 PM to humanchimp's blog.
Well you don't have to necessarily respect the cock but you can at least pause for a moment and take it into consideration. You don't have to take it for dinner or go on long romantic walks but a little attention is no bad thing.
I'm not asking for much here.
Anyway I'm sitting on my settee making a really dire attempt to do the kind of writing that fools pay me for when I started thinking about chastity and all that jizz.
Now I don't mind chastity as part of a scene for a couple of hours but long term…
I'd sooner be rogered up the arse with a rail road spike.
I hate to be crude, rude and disrespectful to those who enjoy chastity for months on end but I like fiddling with myself way to much for all that.
I'm not even going to start asking about cleanliness, playing sports or anything like that.
But I need to know what happens if you got hit by a car?
Is there anything more embarrassing than that?
Picture the scene. A frantic emergency room, doctors and nurses covered with my splattering blood which is pouring from a wound at the top of my thigh. There's no time, they have to cut my trousers off, only to be confronted by some metal cage entrapping my genitalia?
“Nurse… Scalpel!”
They'd whisper and gossip and the news would soon spread to all the women, all ready holding a candle lit vigil outside even though it's only two in the afternoon. Mass hysteria would erupt, there would be tears, passing out, maybe a little death. Britney Spears and Michael Jackson wouldn't have shit on me!
Oh no…
I know what can be much worse. Much, much worse.
What if you split up with the key holder?
You might storm out of the house, go home and then think. Fuck, she's still got my knob.
You can go back and ask her to release you. She could say yes and though it would be weirdly intimate and sad at least you'd be free.
Then again, she could say no. She may do what a large number of my ex's have done and turn into a vindictive psycho bitch from hell whose one goal in life is to destroy me.
She could just slam the door in my face shortly after laughing into it.
What then?
Do you go home and just accept that you've lost your penis forever?
I couldn't, I'm still venting over the fact that some hippie I went out with at uni nicked my Beastie Boys CD.
Would you risk cutting off the little metal padlock? I broke everything I touched in metal work, no way would I trust myself with a hacksaw.
Could you ask a friend to do it? I'd never be able to look them in the eyes again.
Ask the doctors to release you? The embarrassment would probably kill me.
So that's your options, well there is one more.
Get the police involved and ask them to get the key.
Sound feasible but then they'd ask what the key was for and she'd tell them even if I didn't. She could argue that the key is her property and so is my willy as I did (close eyes, deep breath) “Give her the gift of my chastity” or whatever those subbie types profess.
It might end up in court. The tabloids would have a festival. They'd party like it's whichever decade that was best for partying.
The front pages wouldn't have been filled with so much penis related news since John Wayne Bobbitt had a tiff with his Missus.
And the judge could slam down his hammer and say that the psycho ex from hell is in the right, she does officially own my penis.
Then as we can't agree on visitation rights she gets a restraining order, meaning I have to stay at least 50 yards away from my knob.
After a sad goodbye my penis would be amputated, still in its chastity device and given to her. She'd keep it in a pickle jar on top of her TV, a little bit of memorabilia, and gloat to anyone that would listen about how I got my comeuppance.
Well that or she'd sell it on e-bay.
No way will anyone ever own my cock. It's mine, all mine I tell you.
Now all I need is some lube for this railroad spike.
Edited Wed 20 Feb 08, 8:30 AM by humanchimp
