I know by the title you are here curious as fuck about the chains... Welcome to the Cage you bunch of adorable lil freaks that I <3 so much!
I like using Chains and Rope in more than doing scenes of sexual bliss. I've been known to bind myself for no more reason then to feel the comfort of the restricting touching that ropes can bring or the small bites in the flesh where a chain link gets you in the most unexpected times. Oh, did I mention that I hide this under my clothing and go shopping or even to work? No?... tee hee... heeell yeah, bitches! You may read this and have a moment of shock, thinking.. but what if somebody touches or bumps into you, won't they.. SOCIAL DISTANCING! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!! lol But no, I could care less what people think about my kinks. Personally, to watch them go big eyed or get that "wtf" look is just a thrill for me and I just wink and walk away with a big ass grin on my face.
HOWEVER... When you are in a meeting with all your associates that have somewhat respect for you and you for them and you feel that link break.. in the small of your back as you lean forward to grab a paper report, followed by the small sound of chain falling into your ass crack... O... M...G... You know everybody heard that... or at least those beside you heard it. Trying to keep a straight face and continue on as though nothing happened can be almost as hard as breaking wind in a funeral while you are giving the eulogy. At this point you start questioning your life choices or.. if you broke wind, you lunch choices. Now if that was the end of it all and you could just make it through the meeting and leave without saying a word, get to a privet place and um.. fix that lil fucker because you can't full body wrap with just a few inches of chain... THAT would be SUCH. A. Relief! BUT WAIT! You don't know my luck or my motto... If you're going fuck shit up, fuck it up right! Leave no doubt in anybodies mind that this shit..oh yeah, its real now!
Sooo as the head of cooperate turns the meeting over to me.. (Stop laughing!) I get the honor of not just standing up, wherein the chain now feels the need to unravel and go down my pants...slowly... slithering between flesh and cloth, but I get to walk the 100 miles to the projector screen that should have only been 10 feet away. Every step something loosens and takes the slide... all the sudden my body seems to be hatching an alien to all those on lookers and I'm just trying to clinch my ass cheeks around that chain to keep it from falling down the pants leg and onto the floor... to be drug behind me... like a lil black snake trying to find its way up my leg. (Go ahead, wipe your tears of laughter.. i'll wait.... ... ...) Unabashed! I move forward, make it to the screen with absolutely ALL of my dignity, yeah right, more like not looking anybody in the eye and fully focusing on the screen; trying for all I'm worth to remember what I was going to say because in all the heat of the moment, SOMEBODY forget the paperwork at their seat. (NOT going back for it.) I continue on this lil horror show by swallowing my pride and getting straight to business. Not even a quarter way into the presentation, STILL clinching my ass cheeks together, I raise my arm to point... at.. the screen... (Side note: Law of gravity dictates that what goes up, must come down) and the lead link slips over my shoulder because guess where it broke.. oh yes! The binder link. You know... the one that holds all the chain together in your wonderful work of art that you spent close to an hour constructing on your body... umhmmm.. that's the one. It didn't break after all, apparently I just didn't get it fully fastened. How do I know this? Oh yes, you get the gold star! Down my pants to THUNK.. not pink or silently fall against your shoe oh no... Those slacks ain't stopping that piece of steel from its earth shattering course to the floor. NOPE! Sooo there I stand, feeling like an autobot in full breakdown mode as those eighth inch links crash around my now enlarging gut, threatening to weight my not so tight belt past my not so big hips (hence the afore mentioned binder link that slid over my ass like I was dropping a turd.) and I'm forced to grab my belt in desperation as my voice breaks like a teenager coming out of puberty... Did I make it through the meeting? Oh HEEELL NO! Like a weather reporter I was like, Now we turn it over to you Bob! and walk my ass out of the conference room.. sounding something like a ghost on Scooby-doo...
Guess who got fired today?
Awell, I can always move out of state.. or country.. but not till I sleep with the boss's wife who while on the way out with all my stuff gave me a stern verbal thrashing (as she is part of the upper management) and decided that putting her number on my pink slip was the best way to let me know... I'm not the only kinky fucker working there! You may be thinking for surely you are NOT that stupid but I refer you back to my previously mentioned Motto!
*Bows.. hears the links breaks and sighs.*
I hope y'all got a great laugh to this visual piece of fiction writing! lol
Like i'm that stupid to not know how to correctly set a binder link, psh! Mwah! Happy Zombie Apocalypse!