Paris, 1994/04
Some 20 years ago, I found in a shop a salt shakers egg shaped, a bit bigger than chicken eggs. Inside was made of holed polyethylene, the outside was made of metal. I put inside 1cc of quicksilver (around 250 g) filed the holes of the plastic inner part, then fixed the two metallic parts together with cyanolate glue.
I finally polished the finished eggs to remove the possible remains of glue.
Two days later, the eggs were inserted in the delicious vaginas of my wife and of her best friend who was also my sub at that time: Kanako. All being well kept in place by chains circling their waists and passing tightly inside their slits to be finally padlocked at their waist.
You know some of the properties of quicksilver. It's heavy and it vibrates non stop for any move done, even the slightest... and no need of any battery for electric supply. The moves activate and the cunt transmits the never ending vibrations immediately.
Oh! By the way, as Kanako was paying a visit in Paris as tourist, so we went to tour the cathedral "Notre-Dame"...
an architectural medieval masterwork visited not only by believers but also by thousands of visitors every day.
From the very first steps, I knew that the day will be of an utmost interest. Amused at the very beginning, their faces, in particular Yooki ‘s, started to show disbelief, then, as we were boarding the train from the suburban station, anguish which turned to an internal panic when the vibrations of the train on the rails echoed non stop in their vaginas.
And we were only on the first leg of the move, more walk, the visit itself and the return will be a never ending pleasurable torture. I was right, the torture was on.
I think the first time Kanachan came was when we got off the train at the St Michel station : unable to walk, eyes closed, no sound at all, her nostrils heaving. Then Yooki’s turn in the corridors of the same subway station.
Their tense faces, were the mark of the efforts they were doing to control themselves.
Anyway, such self control, in my opinion, was more toward people around than to avoid a pleasure they could not escape, no hope as I killed any hope when Yooki begged me to unlock and allow to have the eggs out. « My love, I’m sorry but I left the keys on the kitchen table before leaving »
I don’t know how many time they had orgasms, small or big, on the cathedral esplanade and inside the « House of God ». That was not really my problem.
Anyway, I decided we join a group of as awkward as usual japanese tourists. It added some more pressures on them and more satisfaction for me.
Saying low voice : « Hear the guide’s comment ! It’s important » was just adding a bit more stress to their desperate condition .
Once out, I engaged a conversation with some tourists of the group and we all went to have a drink in a coffee shop nearby, to the despair of my women I must say. But once seated, with a minimum of movement, the effects of the « eggs » were limited and adding to this, I was having the feeling they were less sensible than previously. Anyone get used to pain, why not to orgasm ?
A small hour chatting, relaxed them a bit, but they had to control all their moves, always slow moving, avoiding some positions. The tourists having left for their sightseeing bus, I finished my beer while Yooki begged to return home with the clear agreement of Kanako, then I agreed.
The way back was a bit disappointing, only a slight coming here and there, they were now able to keep themselves under control. At least, they learnt something that day.
Anyway, they were exhausted when we arrived at home and they did not noticed I took the keys from my pocket. They took off their chains and only at that very moment, they understood they’ll have to lay their eggs, no string to pull them out.
At Charles de Gaulle Airport, when Kanako was to return to Japan, I gave her a small present : a box of the size of an egg nicely wrapped in a happy gift paper.
Rope
