|My favorite fetish... a cock leash, an ATM, and improved portfolio performance|
Click my byline, Mr. Ashtray —
You know who you are.
And get your wallet ready.
My favorite fetish is dragging a manslave to the ATM with his member in a tight leash, something that perhaps cuts into the skin or chafes.
My slave, of course, is wearing a long oxford shirt, a silk tie or ascot, and a proper jacket.
I walk him thru streets covertly yanking the leash — inflicting a little pain if he seems to begin feeling stimulated; then relenting; and then when the inevitable stiffness begins to arise, tugging harder.
Finally we arrive at our electronic destination. Already, his sweat gives me a tingle of power. I threaten his dignity, his reputation, and indeed his life.
I whisper filthy, vulgar things in his ear, letting him know that the penalties for early withdrawal of the card may be severe.
As he pants and squirms under my control, others are standing behind us... I am potentially very humiliating for him... I remind him that there are cameras at the bank, an d regular patrols by the police, as the queu of people begins to get both annoyed, and curious.
At any moment, I may simply move to the side, hold out the leash, and unveil his depravity, like a pathetic Wizard of Oz — "pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" — to the normal people standing around.
At any moment, with a capricious flick of my pretty hand, I can draw blood, or even send him to the hospital, where he will have a lot of explaining to do when the quarterly report of emergency room cases is released.
If there aren't enough zeroes behind the digits, he must realize, I can neuter him with one pull. Deliciously, if I give words to this threat. I feel him harden.
He makes a fat withdrawal, and my panties surge with moisture. My panties are wet, ummm hmmmm. And as I cruelly remind him, there are at least seven other machines within walking distance.