A Tale of Two Cock-Ups.
By Elizabeth Swan on
Last week I took my Scribe Slave as a treat to Marina Abramovic's latest performance work “512 Hours.” He had only one task to complete while we were there. To wear a particularly cruel pair of nipple clamps under his shirt. An easy task one would think, given that his last task in public was to have his cock remotely electrocuted as we walked through Regents Park. But unfortunately before we had even entered Hyde Park I heard the sound of metal hitting the ground. “Mistress! Mistress! They have fallen off!” Scribe Slave times his oafishness well as a woman was walking past at the time and almost fell over him as he scrambled about on the floor picking them up. Of course I carried on walking and completely ignored him as public humiliation is not my thing at all. However my second tale of embarrassment is entirely my fault. But I think we've all been there. You buy a toy that doesn't work and take it back to the shop to complain. Then the man behind the counter holds up said toy so all the other customers in the shop can see it...a bright, big, anal vibrator...and just when you go to snatch it back he says in a loud town crier voice... “ It takes three batteries, not two. That's why it didn't work.” But we've all been there right? RIGHT???Elizabeth Swan