shell wrote:Frodo wrote:
It's ok... I can wait until you're done laughing... go ahead and let it out... There. Feel better? Good. :)
You can't prove that I laughed!! *giggling* And for the record, if you weren't so freaking funny, at times, I wouldn't laugh so hard...so it's YOUR fault! *laughing hysterically*
Proof? Come on, nobody needs proof. Do you seriously think
anyone doubts you laughed? Ask Della. I bet she could hear this giggling episode in New York, too. Heck, even
I knew you laughed, and I'm always the last one to know that kind of stuff.
shell wrote:Frodo wrote:
I've never been brave enough to try it again. But if this were an interest of yours... I would be open to encouragement, guidance, and teaching. But only if it's an interest of yours, because I'm a little bit scared of the stuff.
Well.......umm...yeah....I have been known to toy around with a boy or two with a tube of icy hot. *blushing smile*
You do know what is coming, don't you? *grin* Go back and read that thing on my profile that I had you read the other day.........see the last part of that sentence....*grinning from ear to ear* So, I guess the tube of Icy Hot is on your side of the court. *wicked smile*
*contented sigh* It says,
"I enjoy listening to a submissive beg for me to do things to their bodies that they might not normally want done." Well, IcyHot on my cock and balls certainly qualifies as "might not normally want done"... Now the question is how badly do I have to not want it done in order to want you to do it? (Oy, you've got me splitting infinitives. Grammar down the tubes. Latin tutors spinning in their graves. Assuming they're dead, of course.)
shell wrote:*wonders just what the boy will do with this little bit of information.* *wicked smile grows*
Oh, please. Don't pretend you don't know
exactly what I'm going to do. You
always know exactly what I'm going to do, before even
I know it. *shy smile*
I keep forgetting that you
like begging, that it's not irritating to you. I may be a masochist, but apparently I pretty much suck at learning to think like a submissive. Still, I thank you for the kind and gentle reminder. Someday it'll stick in my head that this is not just permitted, but enjoyed. Until then, I beg you to keep reminding me to beg.
Right, then. Let me see if I can remember how this begging business works. *rummages around in the antique filing cabinets in the back of his skull, trying to ignore the claw marks id left on them* It's filed under "B" here, somewhere...
- "Blogging"? Um, no. Not really.
- "Bagging"? No, bootstrap aggregating is for something else.
- "Blegging"? *glares* Id, have you been leaving antique Danish words in the files again? *id smirks from a safe distance*
- "Bogging"? No, not Scottish dialect... Miss Shell's in Florida, which is rather unlike Scotland. More bikini, less bagpipe. Too bad, because I like bikinis and bagpipes. Though possibly not at the same time... the pipers I've known were hairy men who wouldn't really look good in bikinis. (Now there's a visual. Everybody: raise your hand if "eeewww!")
- "Begging"? Ah. That's the one: to earnestly entreat, implore, or supplicate... Oh, right, I remember now: orans feminae cochleae, earnestly entreating the beautiful woman of the seashell. Well, that's clear enough. Why doesn't anybody ask in Latin any more? Would save having to look it up every time. Nothing suggests forced begging like remembering the Latin tutors. Maybe I should write "orans feminae cochleae" somewhere on my body so I won't forget it.
Now, the last time I tried this there were 3 parts: what I'm asking for, what's in it for Miss Shell, and a good will gesture. So let's try that again.
Miss Shell, I quickly remove my clothes, becoming
completely naked before you. I take off even my glasses and hair tie, so there is absolutely
nothing between you and my body. My body is clean for you. I kneel, sitting my butt on my heels, and spread my knees as wide as possible, emphasizing vulerability and availability to you of my inner thighs, butt, balls, and cock. I clasp both hands behind my neck, and spread my elbows wide, emphasizing the vulnerability and availability to you of my inner arms, chest, and nipples.
I face toward you and...
froodly's id: Hey, froodly! Which direction is Miss Shell? How d'ya know
that's the way to face?
froodly: *exasperated sigh* Id... shut
up! Not now... I'm
busy here! Trying to get some dignified begging done.
froodly's id: *eyes froodly kneeling, naked, and spread* Dignified? *Inigo Montoya voice* You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. *normal deep, grating voice like stone grinding on stone* No, really. Which way's to Miss-Shell-ward?
froodly: "Miss-Shell-ward"?! *face in hands* That's not even a word.
froodly's id: Says who? I bet you don't even know which way Miss Shell is from here.
froodly: *exasperated* It's the opposite of Cleveland!
froodly's id: *thoughtful* Well, that does kinda make sense that Miss Shell and Cleveland would be in opposite directions... But lotsa ways
don't go ta Cleveland. How can Miss Shell be in every not-Cleveland direction?
froodly:*rolls eyes* ... *angrily*
.o'onai gletu! do po'u pacnau!
froodly's id: Well there's no need for obscenity, see, I just...
*froodly grabs id and hurls him in the general direction of Cleveland... not far, because he's made of stone and would damage the walls, but enough meters to make the point*
*id sulks and decides any further smirking will take place beyond froodly's reach*
*sigh* Where was I? Naked, check. Kneeling, check. Legs spread, check. Arms wide & hands behind neck, check. Facing Miss Shell... ah. That's where we were interrupted. Ahem.
Clean, naked, kneeling, and vulnerable, I face toward you, Miss Shell, and look earnestly into your eyes, contemplating Those Eyebrows...
*wait* ... *moan*
*wait* ... *moan*
*wait* ... *moan*
froodly's id: Aw, crap! Not again... 'Scuse me, Miss Shell, while I reboot frito-boy here. Jus' like an old air conditioner, ya gotta bang 'im upside the head so he'll stop makin' that annoying noise... *administers the canonical dope-slap to back of froodly's head, scampers back out of arm's reach*
- Begging for my needy little masochistic self
Miss Shell, may I beg your encouragement, guidance, and instruction in overcoming one of my fears?
As I said above, I've had difficulty with IcyHot/Menthol Gel/Tiger Balm/capsaicin cream. Anal lube, brilliant. Applied to cock and balls? Too painful to take.
However, the idea of it is exciting as a fantasy. I imagine being tied down spread-eagle on the bed, IcyHot applied to cock & balls, condom put on to prolong it, nipples clamped withmultiple clothespins, thick butt plug with more IcyHot... and ordered to take it for at least 15 minutes. I would dearly love to realize this fantasy, but am unable to overcome my fear of it on my own. Being alone and in pain is not a fantasy of mine. I know -- and I mean really know -- that you have helped me with similar fears in the past. Please, may I bet your help here?
Also, you mentioned that you've played this way before. It is greatly reassuring to me to be able to count on your experience to teach me. But it is even more exciting to know that this sort of play might please you. And I am desperate to do things that please you! Please, Miss Shell, may I do something that pleases you, whether it be IcyHot or something else of your choice? Please?
- What you, Miss Shell, might get out of it
So much for what I want. Now, let's see if we can figure out what you might get out of this.
Of course, it would further establish your reputation as a kind, experienced domme who is generous in her play. This doesn't count for much, because nearly everybody on the planet already believes this, but there may be a few extraterrestrials who haven't gotten the word yet.
You hinted at your play with IcyHot in the past. May I assume you enjoyed it? Because if you did, I would be happy to be the canvas on which you paint your art with IcyHot.
And, of course, you by now know the likely effect this will have on me emotionally. You said you felt like a potter, molding me. May I please be your clay again, to be fashioned into beautiful ceramics through your work?
- A good-will gesture
I don't know quite what to offer here, since you've been so generous with me. Perhaps a promise to have materials available (IcyHot, condoms, clothespins, etc.) immediately. Perhaps a promise to be punctilious about using a safeword at the slightest sign of distress? Perhaps a promise to write a description of the experience for you, telling you the good effects on me? Or perhaps you would care to suggest a good-will gesture on my part that would be meaningful to you?
Still naked, spread, and kneeling, I bow my head to the floor. I know your decision will be just and kind, and that you will know better what I need than I do myself. I trust you to decide the right way to answer this begging.
*looks toward Della* Oh, and Della: Would you mind passing on to Pinky that any substitution of ointments with something to turn me blue would not be well received? You'd be messing with Miss Shell here, not just me.
I mean, you can tint my id all you want; that's just good sporting fun for everybody. He saw he was purple, and went out to a club for slam-dancing -- which, when you're made of stone, is considerably more fun. But if I turn blue -- even a part of me -- then Pinky and I are going to have a short and exciting conversation.
On the other hand, if she wants to mess with id, well... she has my permission and my blessing. :)