Most of you know of my unhealthy obsession enjoyment of the game of football. I love to sit back and watch a man put his ass in the air, ready to thrust forward and pounce on the man in front of him. There’s something so primal about aggressive men (as I’m sure many of my sissy fags would agree). But that is not the reason for my post today.
No, today I am here to renounce my former adoration for Peyton Manning and to squarely lay the blame for my ruined orgasm at his feet. I was excited for this Superbowl … My long-term orgasm denial boy, W had a lot riding on this. As most of you remember, W got himself into some trouble betting against my Patriots a few years ago and had his last orgasm July 4, 2008 (wow, just look at how far you’ve cum … OH! Wait … but you can’t cum, can you?) I have been torturing encouraging him ever since to become a fully encased chastity slave, but he keeps resisting. It’s very exciting for me to goad him and I get a true sexual high from imagining the wiggles and squirms he does in his chair whenever we talk about my decision to lock him up. There are several other Mistresses that keep tabs on W, keeping him honest about himself and preventing him from forgetting his promise.
Well, I admit it … I got cocky. We were joking around just before the Superbowl started and, as our conversation usually does, we started talking about football picks. He was all for “Who Dat?”, thinking that Drew Brees was going to take the Saints all the way and I just couldn’t imagine a world where Manning would lose. I love Peyton Manning and think he’s truly one of the greats in the pocket. His arm is enough to make lasers jealous in it’s accuracy and he never lets the pressure get to him. I have admired him since I started watching football … (ok, so his brother doesn’t quite have the Manning talent but he’s still relatively new to the league … cut the kid some slack). So we joked around a bit and I half-jokingly teased W and said if the Saints win that I would allow him to cum but when the Colts mopped up, that he would be forced to buy a chastity cage and begin his training with Empress Jessica and I. We laughed a little and then he went to watch the game while I worked on a few things and watched the game in the background.
My jaw dropped some 4 hours later … how in the bloody hell did THAT happen? Did someone dress Peyton Manning in a red hoodie? My letdown was immediate and I felt my heart bottom out somewhere in my knees.
There would be no sexual bliss for me … No delightful shiver of passion as I listened to W whimper and beg for me to send him the key … I was bereft of orgasm as I denied him over and over again … I had …
lost
So, my darlings, I would like to welcome you all to Denial 2010 … Much like 2008, I have decreed the Superbowl did not occur and will happily go on with my little slice of reality … and work twice as hard to make sure W gets my birthday gift right …
Sorry to hear about your loss, MsRyan. As for me, I again refused to even watch some sort of sporting event where one team won and the other lost.