My Master is of the opinion that the way to foil all these bogus pollsters who are calling us up with phone surveys on a daily basis is to lie like a rug to them. I have trouble with this. People ask me questions, I either hang up on them or I give the real answers.
Well, last night I got another call from a "pollster" (most of them are not real polls- they are sneakily try to sway your opinion with their loaded questions). I started answering questions, and Master came up to me and commanded "Lie to them". He stuck his hand into my jeans. I gasped a little.
I started making up stuff, wild stories of political conservatism or middle of the roadness. Why, yes, I'm thinking of voting for Romney; yes I like Paul Ryan (gag). Ethnicity? Why, I'm Hispanic (I'm not). Religion? Conservative fundamentalist? No, I'm Wiccan. (I'm not) I left just enough truth in there to be completely nonsensical. Sure, I think Obama is doing a good job. Last election, I voted for Ralph Nadar. (I didn't) Now I think the country is going to hell.
His finger was in my cunt, and he commanded me to cum. I did, as quietly as I could.
From the phone: "Ehem. What do you think of Joe Biden?"
"Oh, I hate him". "Aaaah, Ow!" He had pinched a nipple.
"Who will you vote for- Tommy Thompson or Tammy Baldwin?"
I asked Master "Who do we like?" He said Thompson.
Speaking into the phone again I say: "My husband says we like Tommy Thompson".
The polling lady laughed. She sounds Southern, and is probably familiar with a few ladies a little older than me whose politics is dictated by the male head of household.
He's made me drip right through my jeans now, and makes me cum again. I don't think I'm all that quiet.
She thanked me for my participation and I hung up. Master said he hoped I was having fun since he wasn't going to beat or fuck me at all that night.
It brings a new meaning to the term phone harassment.
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