Moving in with Master: Part 3
Not appropriate for those who have trouble distinguishing fantasy from reality.
Monday
Tuesday
Since my last entry I have felt the following: insomnia, intense self-hatred, grumpiness, risk-taking, drive, depression, out-of-control, motivation, overreacting, anger, playfulness, remorsefulness, bitterness, self-pity, pride, loneliness, thankfulness, more loathing, embarrassment, weariness, joy, talkativeness, headache, minor sanity slippage, and chafing.
The chafing was courtesy of my brilliant idea to avoid another embarrassing wet spot. When I got up this morning I put on a jock strap stuffed with a wash cloth, and lined with plastic wrap. It worked more or less as intended, and wasn't blatantly obvious. However, comfortable it wasn't.
My co-workers have begun whispering about my erratic moods. Some think it's just the nerves of leaving the job and city that I've called my own for the past five years. Others think it's me fighting internally against the “truth”, that Master Odin is mad, bad, and dangerous to know. One guy even gave an under/over of 3 weeks before my body is found in a dumpster. Way to be Scott.
Naturally, they don't know Master Odin by that name. They just know him as Steve, the big guy standing next to me with a big goofy grin in the photo we had some random passer by take of us with Mickey Mouse. Every time I look at that photo on my desk, I get a matching goofy grin. Thankfully, enough people have been educated that I don't get comments about, “How sweet it must have been, taking your father to Disney Land.” It was, of course, Disney World.
I had a feeling another FedEx shipment would land on my desk before lunch. I just wasn't sure what it would be. My mind went many different places as I waited for the inevitable. Would it be a set of tit clamps? Perhaps a pre-owned, unwashed, wrestling singlet with a few drops of Old Spice at the neckline? Then again it could be wrist and ankle weights. Or it might, just might be a dozen long stem roses and a selection of chocolates.
In the end it was none of those things, but something much much worse. The mail boy stopped by today not with a box but with an envelope. It contained two other envelopes, a smaller one labeled, “Open me first” and a larger one,“Wait till you're told.” I opened the smaller one and read,
Dear Mudd,
It is amazing what one can find on the Internet these days. For example, point your phone to http://www.masterodin.xq/files/ and install the app there, Od_BB_cnt.app. During the install process it will ask for a control number, enter my cell number. After all of that, you may open the second envelope.
Master Odin.
The app installed without a hitch, but also without providing much information about itself. The larger envelope was much more illuminating. No, not illuminating, what's the other word? Oh yes, terrifying.
Thank you for purchasing Big Ben, the latest creation from Square Peg Toys and Omni-dildonics. This model is Bluetooth enabled, allowing your partner to control your pleasure either with our remote control, or by text message to a compatible smart phone.
Our Big Ben model has 3 distinct vibration zones: The bulge rides on the prostate, the neck for direct anal pleasure, and the ball which provides extra stimulation to the base of the penis. The frequency and intensity of the vibrations are fully adjustable. From whispering zephyr, all the way up to “Oh my giddy aunt!”™
Our specialized high capacity battery allows for hours of play, and up to 5 days of stand-by time.
I thought this had to be a joke, something we could laugh about once we were together again. But no, I soon got another text that straightened my spine, so to speak. Just a few quick bursts of vibration letting me know that this was no joke, and that Big Ben works exactly as advertised.
This setup the pattern for the rest of the day. At seemingly random intervals, my phone would vibrate, then my ass would vibrate. Never for long, and never louder than my phone. Master Odin was also 'kind' enough to let me fully recover before sending the next zap. This repeated teasing did let me figure out the format of the text message commands.
This made me concerned when getting on the train to go home I got another text that set all the zones to vibrate at level 1, but with no duration. As expected my rear started to lightly hum. About half way through the ride I got another message that jumped things up to level 2. This made it difficult to stand.
It is now nearly bed time and Big Ben has just been boosted to level 10. “Oh my giddy aunt!” was right. It has taken me 3 minutes to write the last sentence. He must be planning on letting this thing go till the battery dies.
I don't care any more. I'm getting out of my cage. No punishment for disobedience can be worse. Whip me, beat me, slice my skin, break my bones, reenact the lye scene from Fight Club. It will all be as nothing compared to this moment. I've got to cum and cum now. As soon as I get out of this thing, I'm going to beat off until I either pass out or I'm completely empty. I'll even go for 2 more dry shots just to be sure.
Addendum. (7 minutes later) The key doesn't WORK!
Monday
Tuesday
Since my last entry I have felt the following: insomnia, intense self-hatred, grumpiness, risk-taking, drive, depression, out-of-control, motivation, overreacting, anger, playfulness, remorsefulness, bitterness, self-pity, pride, loneliness, thankfulness, more loathing, embarrassment, weariness, joy, talkativeness, headache, minor sanity slippage, and chafing.
The chafing was courtesy of my brilliant idea to avoid another embarrassing wet spot. When I got up this morning I put on a jock strap stuffed with a wash cloth, and lined with plastic wrap. It worked more or less as intended, and wasn't blatantly obvious. However, comfortable it wasn't.
My co-workers have begun whispering about my erratic moods. Some think it's just the nerves of leaving the job and city that I've called my own for the past five years. Others think it's me fighting internally against the “truth”, that Master Odin is mad, bad, and dangerous to know. One guy even gave an under/over of 3 weeks before my body is found in a dumpster. Way to be Scott.
Naturally, they don't know Master Odin by that name. They just know him as Steve, the big guy standing next to me with a big goofy grin in the photo we had some random passer by take of us with Mickey Mouse. Every time I look at that photo on my desk, I get a matching goofy grin. Thankfully, enough people have been educated that I don't get comments about, “How sweet it must have been, taking your father to Disney Land.” It was, of course, Disney World.
I had a feeling another FedEx shipment would land on my desk before lunch. I just wasn't sure what it would be. My mind went many different places as I waited for the inevitable. Would it be a set of tit clamps? Perhaps a pre-owned, unwashed, wrestling singlet with a few drops of Old Spice at the neckline? Then again it could be wrist and ankle weights. Or it might, just might be a dozen long stem roses and a selection of chocolates.
In the end it was none of those things, but something much much worse. The mail boy stopped by today not with a box but with an envelope. It contained two other envelopes, a smaller one labeled, “Open me first” and a larger one,“Wait till you're told.” I opened the smaller one and read,
Dear Mudd,
It is amazing what one can find on the Internet these days. For example, point your phone to http://www.masterodin.xq/files/ and install the app there, Od_BB_cnt.app. During the install process it will ask for a control number, enter my cell number. After all of that, you may open the second envelope.
Master Odin.
The app installed without a hitch, but also without providing much information about itself. The larger envelope was much more illuminating. No, not illuminating, what's the other word? Oh yes, terrifying.
Thank you for purchasing Big Ben, the latest creation from Square Peg Toys and Omni-dildonics. This model is Bluetooth enabled, allowing your partner to control your pleasure either with our remote control, or by text message to a compatible smart phone.
Our Big Ben model has 3 distinct vibration zones: The bulge rides on the prostate, the neck for direct anal pleasure, and the ball which provides extra stimulation to the base of the penis. The frequency and intensity of the vibrations are fully adjustable. From whispering zephyr, all the way up to “Oh my giddy aunt!”™
Our specialized high capacity battery allows for hours of play, and up to 5 days of stand-by time.
I thought this had to be a joke, something we could laugh about once we were together again. But no, I soon got another text that straightened my spine, so to speak. Just a few quick bursts of vibration letting me know that this was no joke, and that Big Ben works exactly as advertised.
This setup the pattern for the rest of the day. At seemingly random intervals, my phone would vibrate, then my ass would vibrate. Never for long, and never louder than my phone. Master Odin was also 'kind' enough to let me fully recover before sending the next zap. This repeated teasing did let me figure out the format of the text message commands.
This made me concerned when getting on the train to go home I got another text that set all the zones to vibrate at level 1, but with no duration. As expected my rear started to lightly hum. About half way through the ride I got another message that jumped things up to level 2. This made it difficult to stand.
It is now nearly bed time and Big Ben has just been boosted to level 10. “Oh my giddy aunt!” was right. It has taken me 3 minutes to write the last sentence. He must be planning on letting this thing go till the battery dies.
I don't care any more. I'm getting out of my cage. No punishment for disobedience can be worse. Whip me, beat me, slice my skin, break my bones, reenact the lye scene from Fight Club. It will all be as nothing compared to this moment. I've got to cum and cum now. As soon as I get out of this thing, I'm going to beat off until I either pass out or I'm completely empty. I'll even go for 2 more dry shots just to be sure.
Addendum. (7 minutes later) The key doesn't WORK!