MoGa
Posts: 1001
Joined: 8/25/2008 From: Hellizona! Status: offline
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quote:
ORIGINAL: Daddysredhead I hate it when I am found out. People, I am the one with secret stress in Florida that has apparently spilled all the way to wherever the hell the "journalist" is. Let me confess it, right here and right now... The morning of the wedding in Florida, I was getting dressed and wondering, which then turned to freaking out, which then turned into mass hysteria and global panic. Why you ask? Lemme tell you. I was looking at my dress, wondering if I should wear the clear straps with my bra or go strapless. I mean FFS, this is a huge phukking dilema! DaddyBoo has enormous issues with bra straps showing because He says it looks "ghetto." So..... do I wear the clear straps and disappoint Him to His heart, knowing that I have violated one of the only rules He has given me? Do I sneak around and tell Him that no one took pictures and it's impossible for Him to see what I looked like the day of the wedding? Do I lie to my Master through my deceitful slut teeth? Or... Do I take the clear straps off and wear the bra strapless as I did once before? I mean, what kind of woman am I, asking one foundation garment to defy the laws of gravity and physics and even the laws of nature, by keeping my big ole' titties facing forward and cinched up where they belong? I was terrified, knowing that removing the straps would make me the obedient slave that IntenseMaster, my DaddyBoo, deserves... but yet, one wayward motion by me, could release the tension being held by my overly expensive brassiere, and the entire wedding/reception venue could be completely overcome by lily-white titties that may possibly spring forth from my dress like an inflatable dingy from a sinking cruise ship. I had to make the decision, no one else could do it for me. I removed the clear straps, with Tulip's help, like a bomb squad clipping the red and blue wires from an explosive device. I knew that I was taking a risk, but it had to be done. The notion that I may disappoint my Master from afar wasn't an option for me. I knew that this was precarious, taking the lives of the people I have come to adore from CM into my own hands - or bra rather. One wrong move and I'd be performing non-consensual breath play with 50 people. My bewbage was under more pressure than a can of Pilsbury Grands biscuits, but I made it through the day and the evening, titties intact. No suffocation of friends occured. And for that, I am grateful. So, now that I've "outed" myself... this silly business of mystery people not having fun in Florida can be put to rest. It was me. And my tits. I hope that you all can fogive me. Everyone knows that all good scandals are exposed to the light. So now, I sit here... exposed. (And chilly. It's only 34*F here right now.) Brrr... Forgive me? ~ Red, the remarkably twisted Well slap my ass and call me Judy!!! OH MY GOD!! Is this the funniest post ever or what??? Red..I laughed my ass off, you are so cute! I knew I should have felt you up when I had a chance!! Dayummmmmm!
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Founder Of My Own IN-Crowd Lady H's Biggest Fan DIVA *Per Cali* The Other Bossy One *Per Tulip* Official Pimpette Music Is The Universal Language. Let's Communicate!
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