Letter From Coldstream Canyon

Dear Shoeblossom:

My cousin Glen is married to a dominant bitch called Jocelyn. When Glen and his brother Gavin, both free-wheeling, bimbo-chasing poker-playing drunkards met Jocelyn in a club, they had no idea that the icy blonde would tempt the two of them, and Glen's boss Monroe, into becoming her slave harem!

Now Glen hasn't been out for a poker night in seven years. When he and Gavin are at home, they are forced to wear French maid's costumes, with dildoes or butt plugs up their asses, and they get hard-core discipline from Jocelyn that you wouldn't believe! And Monroe has an even harsher deal...Jocelyn keeps him locked in the furnace room in Glen's basement!

Next year, Glen is having his balls removed and will go by "Vanessa"...Gavin's wife and family, came with a deprogrammer to rescue him, only to see Gav being put in diapers and enema injected by Jocelyn...and Monroe is not allowed to urinate without permission...

Partners from my firm, Thaddeus and Thatcher Wilmot, are kept in an almost permanent nursery situation in their house (when not out at work) by a blonde governess, Miss Crickmere, who makes them drop their britches for bare buttocks thrashings and enemas... Thad called me the other day weeping because Miss Crickmere had strung him up by his nipples...because he didn't eat all his porridge!

Thatcher's daughter, Vildan, a beautiful twentysomething, agreed to have all her beautiful long strawberry mane of curls chopped off, to the point of baldness, and now the former debutante lives in the backyard, in a doghouse owned by Miss Crickmere. Naked, the girl shivers on her knees in the mud with a collar round her neck, a stiff metal one, with spikes.

And how I envy them all!

(Quaife Tyldslley, the Second Selectman of our town, had to resign after his wife caught him visiting Miss Crickmere to lick out her cesspool...I envy him, too, sadly)

For I am a submissive without a Domme!

(It's the truth, though my first fiancée, Eunola, just called me a "weird little fuck")

The first time a prostitute saw the chastity piercing on my penis, she was utterly bewildered, and flabbergasted. She even called in another girl from the room down the hall. "C'mon Tina, I want you to see this." And the two whores stared at my locked cock with their pretty, full lips open, as I lay on the bed, utterly humiliated.

My cock has a silver loop through the head, and that loop connects to another piercing right behind my scrotum, so when my dick tries to erect itself, it just wriggles miserably, so impossible to straighten!

It's torture in and of itself, when my aroused penis is filling up with blood, getting excited, and then can't lengthen because of the lock. Watching pornography, or seeing my secretary's ass twitch in her leather miniskirt, or seeing the girls Rollerblade in their latex pants just gives my poor, pierced penis a world of trouble!

I dated a church girl once, Mazie Sue, who would make out with me, her boobs almost bursting through the tube top as she wriggled against my narrow chest, and then when she could tell I was erect, she'd beat the shit out of me with her fists until I made that "unclean" thing go down again.

Well the piercing is worse than Mazie Sue!

There was a time when I wore a chastity belt called "The Curve" back in '05, which connected and held my member in a polycarbonate see through form. (Look, but don't touch, ha ha). But the chastity lock piercing, similar to a Prince Albert, is a more honest, deliberate celibacy device, and I can be teased, or play with myself, becoming aroused, without having an orgasm.

I got the idea from your "Letter from Red Hook" about the NYU girl who put one of her profs in a Prince Albert, and then connected it to his desk until he gave her entire Econ 102 class A's...Sweet Jesus!

I have that kind of disposal, it started younger, of course...I was expelled from the Lincithum Normal Primary Academy for asking Sister Jarrett for a bare-bottom spanking...

But my goodness, the Prince Albert piercing story...

This got me so excited,and I ordered one and had someone from Canyon Piercings do the necessary eh, surgery...

It was painful, the loops, but worse, even worse, were showing the humiliating piercing to a working gal...oops.

"What do I do with that?" the first whore had asked, seeing the lock, and I'd explained to her that my ding-dong was permanently affixed to my balls, and I was there primarily to be of service.

Sure, I'd forked over $300 to this call girl (her name was Sugar) but my main interest was in worshipping the girl's figure, giving her good head, and cleaning out all the used semen, that nasty old spooge, that the previous johns that day had deposited within...and after that I'd given Sugar a full body massage!

After our time was up, Sugar gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I go by Sugar, but my real name is Araminta, Minty for short, and you can see me anytime" She was thrilled. I'd used my tongue to clean her anus as well as her vagina, and her outer ass, her feet and her armpits...she was very impressed!

I remember that Sugar/Araminta had felt some intense compassion for my poor wee-wee, which had dangled and then bounced around, stretching unhappily against the piercing, as it had grown excited as the sperm had surged within. But I assured the girl this would calm itself when I got home and took a freezing shower, and did some push-ups.

I didn't mention that I'd be dropping by a strip bar for a lap dance or two, just before going home, for my cock needed a bit more teasing punishment, a little torture, to remind it what a bad little worm it really is!

Haithcock Biddix, the manager of the Lavender Kitty Lounge loves it that I am one of the best customers ...but he says I am one "Confused Boy" and I can't blame him for that assessment, the weird relationship I have with his stripper and hooker employees!

Before I left Araminta (or Sugar) that first night, I pulled out my trusty two foot leather snake whip with the cruel metal star on the end, and asked Minty to whip my cock, testicles and ass, just to calm my penis down so I could get my pants on.

It was so hard to get my mind off her fabulous body before I dressed, and once prompted, the whore thrashed my body quite obligingly until I sobbed, and was bleeding slightly from my anus.

We are still close, Minty and I. I just used some of my savings to put her daughters, Thumbelina and Rapunzel through cosmetology school!

There have been so many working girls since then. I've never had an orgasm with even one of them, just love and service from my end. Once a month I have a prostate massage that cleans the semen and pressure out of my genitals, and the guy who gives it to me is a fat old nursing assistant!

I have not had a real orgasm in nearly seven years! This is amazing since I go to prostitutes, male and female several times a week to serve them with my mouth and massaging hands!

One hooker got such a kick out of my junk being locked up that after I'd done a full worship session, 3 hours of massaging and "tongue therapy" she lay me down landlocked a spreader bar between my ankles and then played around with my manacled penis with an electric toothbrush...and then also ran a piece of lubed string up down right under the frenulum of my cock, getting me so excited I burst into tears!

Pruitt P, her punk-rock spiked haired "controller" actually looked in, wondering if she was killing me...than he took pictures for a possible movie advertisement, but I am used to such insults....

And I came on week after week, welcoming new humiliations!

I also bring along a big strap-on dildo, and the girls, even the very petite ones have such fun reaming my asshole, and then having me lick my shit off the plastic cock after the sodomy! Finola, one of the newer girls, told Pruitt that I am a john who makes the work "sparkle" whatever that means...

I have made close friends with many of these paid companions, picked them up at emergency rooms, and paid for medical and legal fees. I often give my "comfort women" extended manicures and pedicures along with the massages and oral duties. One or two of them have offered to see me for free, but I enjoy giving them the financial tribute. One even made me godfather of her second child!

Some nights I've gone out and met homeless men, or male prostitutes, down where they congregate in thee Cannon-McCracken Projects, on the corner of Fraser and Lonsdale Avenue, and reserved a motel room for them...or sometimes even an expensive inn, where I served sumptuous meals in bed, myself kneeling naked before them as they ate off a tray from a nearby restaurant that delivered, sometimes spoon feeding them caviar and other delicacies.

After the man's meal is finished, I let my hands massage their muscles, and my mouth does yeoman's labor between their legs. I've brought my guest to five or six orgasms in a single evening from the efforts of my blowjobs!

After it's over, I bend across the bed, handing them the whip, and telling them I will pay them double if they can make me cry!

I had the misfortune back in the Marine Corps of having a drill sergeant who made me the "goat" of the troop, dressing me in heavy pancake makeup and lipstick and making me prance around in a garter belt in front of the entire camp.

Perhaps I was sheltered—I was raised by a domineering aunt in Eikenberry Estates, about ten miles from Coldstream Canyon, and I thought the military might have a positive effect on me...but I learned that men can be cruel! The Master Sergeant in Camp LeJeune made the P.E. teacher at the Eikenberry Academy look like Shirley Temple!

Sarge thought nothing of taking my pants down on many occasions and whipping my bare buttocks with a discarded fan belt from a Jeep in front of my laughing platoon mates. And yes, I cried, screaming like a colic ravaged infant....just a crybaby!

Then my "buddies" would crawl into my bunk and take turns raping my buttocks and mouth all night long. The worst part of this was, even after I was promoted to commander, the men I was supposed to dominate, who should fear me, would leave the infantry, sneak into the officer's quarters and rape and beat me, until I was discharged from the Corps on a medical (psycho) Section 8.

And that possibly is what makes me leave my carefully sheltered suburb to go see the male street hustlers, who love to abuse! Especially the blacks and Hispanics, when they've heard they have cart blanche to abuse me, it's anything from fist-fucking to making me clean their dirty boots with their tongue, (which has given me light salmonella) and yet I return to the projects to see them, night after night!

One young fellow, a bodybuilder called Mayday, offered to just kick me in the nuts harshly. To take my mind off my illicit desires, of course. I agreed, to my regret later on!

At the end of these evenings, my wallet is empty, the Visa is maxed out and my jaws and anus are swelling and sore. My swollen, overloaded penis is chaste. I must keep my tool room—workshop, where the pliers and scissors are stored, locked up, so I don't succumb to temptation and snip the piercing off and masturbate!

I got the idea to write about this to you after reading "Letter from South Bend" about the Indiana housewife, a Miss Gilks who sent her husband to service male and female hustlers...but I send myself!.

Because you see I've never had a dominant partner, not like a wife or girlfriend who would do this for me. When I did tell the wife that I wanted this, she thought it was weird and creepy. "Gilder, you need therapy, dearest."

And so this has meant I must keep myself chaste and it's scary because I have no self-discipline whatsoever.

In the early days, when I was using a CB-3000 chastity belt, I would put the key in a large block of ice, a big one, and then force myself to sit next to the big ice block, stark naked in the garage, and wait for it to melt.

This could effectively keep me from jerking off too often, but then I decided to have my penis pierced, which was painful, but reminded me of my submissive state, although truth be told, I submit to whoever will have me!

I used to have my wiener locked with a padlock and I'd mail the key away, stuffing it between two pieces of cardboard and putting it in an envelope.

My wife was so repulsed by me after a time, since she couldn't abide the kinkiness, that she forbade me to touch her!

We got on well enough to be married for 23 years, and to raise seven kids, but she insisted we have separate bedrooms, and although I desired her intensely, this lady of mine, when I found out she was going to cut me off from her vagina, I was even more motivated to get into chastity seriously.

Not that we had much sex from the start—Gilder, Jr. and Wakefield, my two oldest sons are adopted from the Ukraine, my next boy, Warwick and his sister Elmira have a darkish hue to their skin (who knows) Woodburn, my most athletic boy resembles our gardener, and I'm pretty sure Wiltwyck and Spofford are the kids of my worthless younger brother, who was very close to my wife!

So no one really noticed when I began wearing the chastity belts, or kneeling naked with mouse trapped nipples in lingerie in the downstairs bathroom. Since I am financially comfortable having inherited furniture polish company from my late parents, I have enough moolah to afford my alimony and child support (and Spofford's legal fees, that kid) and still can visit prostitutes for abuse, eh?

It's funny, my son Woodburn has a girlfriend, Cara, who has a bit of a BDSM relationship with him. Woody is not in chastity, but he and Cara agreed that the best way for him to impregnate her (these kids, no wedding ring) will be if he gives her a huge fucking about once a month, during her "cycle".

So Woody stimulates himself! He has an executive bathroom at his job, and Cara calls him on the cell phone and talks sexy to Woody as he jacks off (without cumming) in his little bathroom. Then, when he gets home, Cara has Woody strip and she plays with his cock all night long as they watch television, again without letting him cum.

There is no reason why Cara shouldn't enjoy orgasms, so when they finally go to bed, Woody goes down on her for hours (honestly, he's told me all about this when we were drunk) and she cums again and again...when he gets too excited, and his balls are all blue, Cara ices them down with frozen peas.

And then once a month, Woody gives her a good fucking!

Woody's friend Danbury...his wife determined that Dan, although a good provider, didn't have the genetic material to give her a good baby, so she also prevents Dan from cumming with a large hoop in his penis (this was to keep him from trying to fuck her when she was asleep).

The lack of orgasms keeps Danbury attentive to his wife, and he must serve her and her genetically more attractive lover in bed...but he gets to cum once a month IF he's been a good boy and very attentive...

Why can't I find a situation like that?

I've read that most women aren't aroused by submissive men, but yet they are always complaining about men being insensitive to their needs. I am ready to fulfill a woman's needs at any moment. Think...if I disagree or am selfish she can cut me off sexually or give me a stinging whipping.That's the sort of power a girl should want, wouldn't you think?

What do you think I should do to meet more women like this?

Mystified...

Dear Mystified...

I wonder if you don't need a psychiatrist first!

Best,

Shoeblossom