Letter From Hobson Bend

And of course sometimes Trixie would me write a thousand times "I am a worthless bladder pig" before she'd let me pee, and this might take several hours.

Sometimes Trixie would lift up my scrotum and tie a chain onto my penile shaft, and occasionally suspend me like this from the ceiling...

Then she'd forbid me to try and pee!

But generally it would be a matter of Trixie just having me dance in front of her and begging to be released...

So I was supposedly well trained in keeping my piss in for this evening of having my dick locked to the floor, right?

My nipples were horribly mangled by now, the clothespins just weren't fooling around.

If I rubbed too hard, my piercing gave me a little stab, and then I'd have to wait till the pain went down before I resumed rubbing my cock.

I knew I was lucky, because a previous time when I'd been locked by my dick to the floor...

I'd been rubbing hard and just as I was on the verge of cumming, Trixie had come down and thrown ice-cold water all over me.

But fortunately, tonight, or unfortunately, she was out on her date with Alan.

"Honey, I love your lip gloss" Alan's voice came. "It looks like bubble gum."

"Yup." Trixie's voice came . "I am looking so forward to sucking your cock in the car after dinner. You always cum like a fire hose."

Even before we had begun doing female domination in the marriage, Trix had never really been enthusiastic about giving me blowjobs.

She always told me we had a beautiful intellectual friendship, but that there wasn't a lot of physical chemistry there. I of course disagreed. I thought my Trixie stunning!

And, as the marriage went on, Trixie had found more and more reasons not to be undressed around me, even asking me to leave the room when she changed her clothes.

I was crying over her pushing me away one night when Trixie was wearing a particularly low cut, stunning body stocking, and she got really annoyed.

"Well spank me then." I said, sobbing, and she did, giving me, as she said "something to cry about."

Trixie had had a previous husband, Jeremiah, who she told me was also a "little bitch" Jeremiah's mother had loaned Trixie a big thick hairbrush after their wedding.

This had been with an enigmatic wink on the mother-in-law's part. Jeremiah had lived with his mom until he was nearly forty, and the hairbrush had been in almost constant use, Trixie discovered later.

On their honeymoon, Trixie had taken down Jeremiah's pajama bottoms and whaled away after he whined about over-tipping the bellboy.

The bellboy had been open mouthed, watching the corporal punishment, but had been happy when Jeremiah had given him a fifty dollar bill to just get out of the suite.

"I put Jeremiah in the corner, with no bottoms at all after the spanking" Trix had told me dreamily, "and he didn't get to fuck me that night."

Trixie had ended up taking Jeremiah's pants down and whipping him in the car, in the dressing room at Macy's, and quite often in Jeremiah's office at the brokerage where they had both worked.

Jeremiah was big enough to have fought Trixie off, but instead he had always just taken his whipping with some sobbing, and then furtively jerked off in the corner. It was quite sad.

Trixie had begun fighting with Jeremiah over whether he should be allowed to watch endless football on the weekends (Mother had never allowed this) and so when Jeremiah's friends came over for a game, Trixie dressed Jeremiah as "Dina" in a pink tutu and full makeup and had him serve the fellows beer on a tray...

And after that Jeremiah had been content to just spend his Saturdays polishing the silver!

"I began fucking Jeremiah's friends, and sometimes letting Jeremiah crouch in the back seat of the car...and when he bitched, I emptied the car ashtray in his mouth!"

Beatrix was one evil lady back in the day!

After Jeremiah and Trixie had divorced, and we'd married, Trix had learned of my similar fantasies...

She had put Jeremiah in chastity after too much masturbation, the Prince Albert very similar to mine...and kept him locked even after the marital split.

Jeremiah would come to visit now and then when he arrived in Hobson Bend on a business trip, and Trixie would get quite amused...

Jeremiah would give her expensive jewelry and would beg quite a bit, and then Trixie might give him the key and let him jerk off.

Since this was once every four months or so (As Jeremiah had moved back in with Mom, who didn't like him to leave town).

Jeremiah's dick would be almost numb from long-term denial, and it would be a while before he actually was able to shoot.

Sometimes, regretfully, Trixie would have me suck Jeremiah off if she was mad at me...

Then she got into an interesting habit of having us both strip, and viewing our erections, with the metal loops just under the cockheads.

Trixie would take the little padlock that she used to lock me to the loop in the floor, and instead use it to connect both loops, so Jeremiah and I couldn't separate.

We were locked together by our cocks!

After this, Trix would cuff my hands behind my head, and Jeremiah's behind his head, and tell us we could enjoy the weekend...

And then she'd go out of town with her current boyfriend.

There would be food laid out, and here I'd be, locked cruelly to the ex-husband who I didn't know well, and frankly didn't like much.

I'm a limousine liberal, and Jeremiah is a Rush Limbaugh fan...so we would spew at each other as we negotiated around the apartment...

Our hands were so limited and we'd have to lean down on the table to eat from a bowl with our mouths.

(The food darling Trix left was usually oatmeal with cigarette butts in it.)

Still, after she returned, and gave us enemas and unlocked us, we were both terribly aroused by the whole thing, and jerked off as soon as we got permission!

Often, to keep me obedient, Trixie would keep me as chaste as Jeremiah...so we both only got to cum when he came to town.

Still, it was better for me, because at least I got the stimulation of my wife, who would unlock me and tease a lot, and of course I spent quite a bit of time going down on her.

Poor Jeremiah had to live with his aging mother, who gave him non-stop discipline, but of course no sexual favors.

Jeremiah's mother would whip Jeremiah for bringing his paycheck home to her with an opened envelope. Jeremiah would beg the accounting department to seal the damn thing, but they would forget...

I would think of poor Jeremiah, his mother pulling his pants down and going at it with a hairbrush or a wooden spoon...when Jeremiah visited, I would see the scars from the occasional razor strop whipping.

Thinking of it now, as I was locked to the floor, I felt I was at least a little lucky, right?

Now I began rubbing my cock once again against the cruel piercing.

The cell phone was going wild as Beatrix and Alan were apparently getting it on in my Lexus. I rarely got to drive my Lexus, (Trix made me take the bus to work).

The moaning was incredible. Now and then Trix would breathe into her cell phone, letting me know that I was just a pathetic little faggot who didn't deserve anything but to fuck the floor in her basement.

"Trying to rub it out again, are you Lionel?" Trixie's laugh was infectious, but not to me.

"Remember when you rubbed your dick on the floor in the attic and got splinters, and I had to pull them out with tweezers...that was hilarious!"

Trix and her memories.

Alan's voice came. "That guy is such a moron, Trixie. I would tell you to leave him, but I love using his Platinum card, man. I haven't had a job in months."

"Don't worry, Alan" came Trixies voice. "Your job is to fuck me hard."

Yeah, I thought bitchily, since Alan dropped out of seventh grade when he was fifteen.

My nipples were searing at this point. Still, it was better than the time that Trixie had run a wire through the piercings in my nipples and hung me by them for an hour while fucking Alan right in front of me...

But I had to admit it, back in the day Trixie had never really been attracted to me. I remember from time t o time, how Trixie had told me early on in the marriage that she didn't feel like letting me touch her...and of course poor Jeremiah had gone through this.

But as bad as pounding my pud in front of Trix as she was in a cute camisole every night was, this was worse, since I'd not had an orgasm in some time.

I kept trying to focus, knowing that I could at least get myself off, maybe twice, on the floor before Trixie and her idiot boyfriend came back.

Again the cell phone began humming.

"Lionel honey, have you cum yet? You've been listening to us, and I've had about five orgasms, and Alan's had about three...

You have a lot to lick out of my wee-wee and anus when I get home, babe!"

"No Miss Trixie (sigh) I've gotten close, but I haven't cum yet...and I really have to pee."

Hurriedly I said, "I really appreciate you letting me have the opportunity to cum, though, painful as this is, being locked to the floor."

"Hon, I changed my mind, I want you not to cum. I know I gave you all those chores to do today and told you that I'd give you a break, but ....

I just want you to edge yourself, or just lie there. Don't rub one out, that's an order."

Near tears, I asked why.

"Alan says he thinks you don't deserve to cum. Alan thinks you're a whiny little bitch--"

Then Alan's voice interrupted. "You little queer, I'm going to whip your ass with m y belt when I get back there. If you can take it without crying tomorrow, I might let you jerk off on my boot while I stomp your balls with the other heel...

And then make you lick your mess off my shoe!"

I began blubbering. I had been rubbing my dick against the floor for a couple of hours. My arms were in pain from being behind my head, and I was terribly aroused.

I then began kicking my legs against the floor and screaming...it was a tantrum, but still how fair was this to me?

But the cell phone just laughed and laughed.

And I couldn't just sleep and wait for them, there was no pillow. I was drooling into my face, which of course was pressed into the floor.

"Please, Miss Beatrix, let me cum. I've really earned it."

"No you have to ask Master Alan." Trix was overwhelmed with mirth at this point.

I just couldn't call this moron Master Alan. He was such a piece of shit.

Trixie had met Alan after she'd gotten a drunk driving ticket and had gone to traffic school. Fresh out of Hobson Penitentiary, he also had been snagged as a drug addled, drunk driver.

"Please Master Alan...give me a break." Oh God.

"No no, I'm going to

fuck you in the ass and then maybe have you suck your shit off my dick, Lionel."

Then came Trixie's voice. "You could clean yourself up, get the shit out of your ass with a douche or an enema--"

I heard Trixie talking to Alan.

"My ex-husband, Jeremiah is forty-six, and his mother gives him enemas every Sunday."

"But Trixie, I can't give myself an enema, I'm locked up."

And I knew that Alan wouldn't be able to wait when they got back, he was such a horny little twenty-three year old.

Again the cell phone exploded with giggles.

"That's right. I forgot. You can't clean yourself up because you let me lock you up with your hands behind your head...

And your penis nailed basically to the floor, that's hilarious, isn't it?"

Trixie paused, and I began blubbering silently.

"God honey, I remember when I lost interest in you sexually--"

"How could you fuck the loser in the first place?" Alan's voice again interrupted.

"Well, anyhow, I recall you, Lionel, coming up to me and begging me to go to bed with you again, or just to let you touch my tits...and yet you seemed so aroused because I was rejecting you."

"What a fucking perv" came Alan's voice disgustedly.

Yes, I remembered that well, Trix sitting in the living room in a tight tank top, boobs swelling, and short-shorts, looking at me contemptuously.

"I remember that you kept begging, Lionel, and I told you that you were pathetic.

Yes, and then I remember telling you to take off your clothes so I could see if your little dickie-bird had gotten any bigger.

But of course it had become a stiffie...

Still a tiny stiffie, right? Who'd want to fuck that?"

I began sobbing at my situation, thinking of how I was so rejected by the only girl I ever loved. As I couldn't move much, I just banged my head against the floor.

And again, my bladder was almost rupturing.

I had to be careful not to pee, though--Miss Trixie had more than once used an electric iron on my poor penis.

I suppose it wasn't as bad as Trixie's ex-husband Jeremiah's deal. Jeremiah had to be home from work every day at six...

Or his mother would give him the hairbrush and the razor strop...

And then make Jeremiah dress in a frilly petticoat and jump rope in the front yard.

Jeremiah's mother always wanted a girl.

Back before Jeremiah meet Trixie, he had at least had refuge in masturbatory sessions with Victoria's Secret catalogues, but the poor man was now constantly locked up, with no hope of release!

Mother put Jeremiah to bed every night at seven-thirty, even though he was nearly fifty years old, and all he could do was lie there, endlessly horny, dreaming of when he'd get to see Mistress Trixie again.

Sometimes Mother would send a note with Jeremiah when he visited Trixie, telling her that Jeremiah didn't deserve to be unlocked, and Trixie would send Jeremiah back, in absolute heartbreak...

I at least had regular teasing from Trixie going on, she would lock my hands up and take the piercing off and rub and stroke my erection with her long French nails, and sometimes she wore really hot little lingerie outfits.

Of course at the end of an hour or two, I'd be locked up again with no chance of orgasm, but I'd had a little stimulation and I really believed that my darling Beatrix loved me.

My penis was incredibly full of semen and of course urine tonight and I was trying desperately not to let either out.

Trixie could wield a mean strap, and of course Alan was a committed sadist.

I had brought back a bullwhip when we'd been touring Italy, and it was used on me quite frequently...

But the cell phone went silent, and I dozed off...

I was awakened with my face in a puddle of drool on the floor. There was an intense pain in my side, and it was because I was being kicked just above my hip with a leather stiletto boot.

I looked up blearily from my terribly cramped position and glimpsed an obese African American transvestite.

"Wuzz up?" it asked. "I be named Doremus."

Clad in bright makeup and grotesque neon red lipstick, with press-on nails and wearing a shimmering short dress, this she-male was disgusting, especially as beneath her pancake makeup there was five o'clock shadow competing with the rouge purchased from Max Factor.

"How you doing?" Doremus asked kindly. "A lady down on the strip gave me a hundred dollars to come unlock you and let you pee before you mess up her floor."

Doremus looked mystified. "What kind of fool would let hisself be tied up like that, with his pecker locked to the floor?"

I was starting to wonder that myself.

"White people are crazy." the drag queen observed sagely.

Greatly amused at my penile-floor restraint, Doremus bent down and unlocked the little padlock connecting me to the floor, and then re-secured my penis to my scrotum despite my protests.

I evidently was not going to get to jerk off...

"Beatrix say to jus' lock you up so you don't play with yo-self. She say you piss sitting down like a little bitch, so go do dat now.

Trixie done tole me that when the stalls are filled up in the shitter at yo' work, you piss yo' Brooks Brothers pants cause you can't use the urinal with that piercing."

The black tranny thought this was hilarious as I blushed and ran upstairs to relieve myself, my hands still locked behind my neck.

"I know who you is" Doremus said when I returned to the living room. "Back in the day, when you was in college, an' I knew dat cause you had a Hobson State U. sticker on yo' Miata convertible..."

Giggling, the drag queen knocked the clothespins off my nipples and I screamed.

"You and yo' fraternity buddies use to come down to the strip at 18th Avenue and Hobson Boulevard and throw yo' empty Budweiser cans at us ladyboy ho's."

This was true. It was unfortunate that Doremus had such a good memory. He/she could do me some violence, there were muscles under that shiny dress.

Would this ambiguous creature decide to kill me in revenge?

"Uh, that was a long time ago...1991? I'm much more progressive sexually as you can see from my situation here..."

"One of y'all threw a rusty van and it got caught in my friend's eye, and now she have to wear a glass eye. We was real mad at you."

"Doremus, it was an unfortunate time of..."

"I am dyslexic, so I couldn't get yo' license plate, but I am going to bring Cherry Forever, who only have one eye to yo' house, and you going to get sued."

"Uh, the statute of limitations..."

What the hell was wrong with Trixie, putting me in this absurd situation, goddamnit.

As I said, I was standing there naked in the parlor with my hands locked behind my head, listening to Doremus's life story and her series of peculiar assaults on my character. I was a Hobson State sophomore, for God's sake...

Doremus began getting heated at the memory of my long past behavior, and then she began slapping me.

One slap was so hard that my nose began bleeding slightly, and then Doremus punched me and my lip also began to leak claret.

Then Doremus informed me that Trixie had instructed him/her to get a blowjob from me as partial payment before she left.

Well, I'm here to tell you that black men are notoriously well hung, even the she-males.

Since I couldn't really move my hands, Doremus grabbed my ears, threw me to my knees, and skull fucked me for twenty minutes.

There was a lot of choking and gagging on my part, and under Doremus's dress I viewed lice in her none-too trimmed pubic thatch.

And I am also afraid our Doremus didn't bathe a great deal. There was a turgid musk around the crotch that will be poisoning my memory for some time.

To say nothing of listening to Doremus groan and moan as I was going at it, slurping and gagging away on that anaconda between her garters.

Still, I was tremendously aroused at this humiliation.

The penis was almost bigger than my mouth and I grew to have compassion for the girls I used to watch in the deep throating porn films.

Finally Doremus came so hard that the scum almost rolled out of my ears. Then we rested a bit.

"I just playin' about Cherry Forever coming over here about the glass eye. She died of AIDS a year back. I don't have AIDS or nothin' yet...maybe some herpes."

My stomach did a non charming somersault...

Doremus then lit a joint that I am afraid may have been infected with PCP.

Doremus began reminiscing again about my collegiate follies, and he/she became so enraged at the memories, that the violence started up again.

Doremus stomped my pierced and shackled genitalia into the shag carpet, and then when I arose again, panting, Doremus kicked me in the nuts.

I was still incredibly horny over this...evidence I am a sick man.

Homophobia is like Karma, methinks. After this, Doremus lifted up her skirt once more and had me fellate her to completion yet again, and then showed me what it was like to eat out a black man's asshole.

Analingus is not what it's cracked up to be.

"I am really sorry, Doremus. Let me write you a check for what I put you through."

I was starting to realize what a pig I was in college...

"No, I chose this life, Li'nel." Doremus said, smiling.