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rubberpet -> RE: The Penis Monologues (4/10/2008 5:55:43 AM)
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An Ode to My Cock
My cock has been with me everyday of my life. I'm very proud of him, after all, I grew him myself. It has this really great curve that seems to get along well with a wet kitty. Until I met Mistress, he was my best friend. He didn't have the easiest life, though. I'm generally mild-mannered, but out of nowhere, I'd drown him in something gooey, make him stand at attention, and choke him till he threw up. Sometimes it was sweet and affectionate, other times it was rough and violent. It did not deter him, though. After catching his breath, he was always ready for another round. It's like he has a mind of his own. You can choke him; you can squeeze him; you can fuss at him; heck, you can even scold him, but it only seems to encourage him.
I've also put him in places that would make some cry. He's looked at me strangely a few times in my life. He thinks I'm OCD or something. When it comes to a wet kitty, I usually am, but he's the one who suffers because of it. I force him to do push-ups until he throws up. In and out...in and out...in and out. After a while, he gets used to it and he likes it. Just look at the big, gooey grin after he's finished.
He helps me pee. If it ever snowed in south Louisiana, I could write my name in the snow. It definitely gives new meaning to the term "fountain pen", I guess. Mistress has penis envy because of him. She enjoyed holding him in the shower as he impersonated a sprinkler, but when he was empty, She shook him vigorously, thinking he was holding out on Her. All it did was wake him up and he grew in Her hand, in complete full bloom! She looked him in his one good eye, shook Her finger at him, and said, "You will give me what I want!" He happily complied...after the shower!
Morning wood is a wonderful thing. It helps you from rolling out of bed inadvertantly. He is like man's own natural kickstand. It serves so many purposes. I've hung wet towels on him, sometimes shirts, hell, I've hung a full gym bag on him to the tune of almost 15 pounds and he stood tall! If you don't believe me, just ask Mistress...She saw it first hand. He has a keen business sense, too, for he is a stiff negotiator. He is not a farmer, though, for he has never fertilized a single egg. Important doesn't begin to describe what he means to me.
In essence, he has a combination of an easy life and a difficult one. On the easy side, he is always protected. He's always tucked away safely in my tighty-whiteys or under multiple layers of rubber. It keeps him safe, warm, and very content. He is more precious to me than rubies or diamonds...my precious family jewels. In times of emergency, I do not cover my face...I grab him securely and turn away, ensuring his safety.
The difficult side of life is not for the squeamish. He's choked mercilessly. He is shoved in dark, wet places...sometimes he comes out smelling like a rectum. Sometimes I wonder is I ever rectum, sometimes I wonder if I killed him. The worst of it all is he has a head with no brain, an eye he can't see out of, he has these two nuts following him no matter where he goes, his next door neighbor is a real asshole, his best friend is a real pussy, and everytime he gets excited, he throws up!
All hail the mighty Johnson!
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