Thursday, May 1st, 2014 at
As per number six of the list of instructions You left for me this week, I’m detailing you the success (or lack thereof) at winning The Game over a twenty-four hour period.
For those who are reading along with this on my blog, The Game is a mental game where the objective is to avoid thinking about The Game itself. Thinking about The Game constitutes a loss, which, according to the rules of The Game, must be announced each time it occurs. (Source)
But of course You couldn’t leave The Game as just a simple win or lose scenario. Rather than just losing, You upped the stakes. When I lost, I had to masturbate with whatever I had in my hand at the time. If I had nothing in my hand, or what was in my hand was inappropriate for fucking, it had to be the most immediate object to my hand that was indeed fuckable.
7:35am – I had only been awake for about half an hour, getting myself ready to go to work. I had managed to last all the way until I was putting on my makeup before I had thought about The Game. I was holding my blush brush at the time, with its long, tapered, skinny handle. I could have fucked myself in the pussy with it, but I remembered number three on that list – continue my anal training – and decided it was slim enough to fit inside my untrained ass. Two birds, one stone, one orgasm brought on by my fingertips as I was slowly pressing that brush handle into my back side.
9:45am – I was stood in the stationery closet at work, waiting for my photocopies to get done. I looked out the window and saw some of the guys at the office next door kicking around a soda can on their break. That’s what triggered the losing thought – a silly game of Pepsi-kick-about. While I was proud to see I lasted more than two hours, I was slightly freaked out when I realized my hand was on the copy machine. It was one of those old kinds that does a lot of wiggling around when it’s turned on (kinda like me). So, I closed the blind, locked the door, and set it to 100 blank copies before I lifted up my skirt and pressed myself into one corner. (Of course no panties, as per number two’s rule of ‘no underwear all week’.) The plastic corner of the machine felt a bit odd, but it did the trick. I think my fear of getting caught make me cum faster, if not harder than the first loss. Keep going…I want more…