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I’m only about three-quarters of the way hard. I’m a grower. There’s more to go. She’s going to decapitate my dick. “The cape! It’s tied too tight!”
“Oh! Oh God! I’m suffocating Super MC!” She pulls at the tie, but the bow unfurls into a knot. “Shit!” Her high pitch fuels my panic.
I push her hands away. “Let me try.” Maybe if she’s not touching me, my dick will stop growing. Violet stands. She’s wearing a pair of superhero briefs and a sheer tank. She’s not wearing a damn bra again. Shit. I scream like a little girl as the pain intensifies.
“I’ll get scissors!” Violet runs from the room, taking her perky nipples with her.
“What?” I yell after her.
Images of a severed penis flash through my mind, deflating my cock marginally. The problem is the blood already trapped above the neck of the cape is slow to drain, and I’m still mostly hard.
Violet returns with an enormous pair of scissors. The idea of any sharp object close to my dick is not appealing. “What the fuck, Violet? Don’t you dare come near me with those! Don’t you have a pair of nail clippers or something not so fucking huge!”
“Your snuffie is suffering! I promise I’ll be careful.” Violet motions to the head of my cock as if I’m unaware of the problem.
“So help me God, if you cut me—” I let the sentence hang. If I can’t have orgasms for the rest of the trip, neither can she.
“I won’t, I swear. Let me help.” Her voice shakes and her bottom lip trembles.
I hold out my hand. “Give them to me.” I don’t need a crying woman with scissors near my dick.
Violet passes them over. Sinking to the floor in front of me, she wrings her hands in distress. I take a deep breath and think of Grandma Waters without her teeth. It seems to help with the deflation enough so I can slip the scissors between my shaft and the string. With one snip I’m free, and the circulation to the head returns. I flop back on the couch, heaving a huge sigh of relief as the blood flow equalizes and the ache fades.
“Alex?” Violet asks in a small, watery voice.
I don’t open my eyes because I don’t want to see her crying. Then I can’t be mad at her any more. Considering I’ve had a pair of scissors against my dick, I definitely want to be angry for a few minutes.
I grunt.
“I guess that wasn’t a very good idea.”
“Ya think?” I snort derisively and crack an eyelid. Then I feel bad; she’s crying.
“I’m sorry. I thought I tied it loose enough.” She plucks the small cape from my lap. “I even measured it against the circumference of my hand span.” Violet demonstrates by forming a circle with her forefinger and thumb. “I thought Velcro would chafe.”
My dick is still hanging out of my shorts, shrinking slowly. I notice lettering on the back of the cape. I grab it out of her hand and inspect it. The M and C are designed in such a way to mimic the S on a Superman cape. It’s also blue and red.
“Where did you get this?”
“I made it.”
“You made a cape for my dick?” I expect weirdness from Violet because frankly, sometimes she’s a little weird. Or a lot.
“I thought it would be funny.”
I continue to stare at her.
“I guess I was wrong.” She looks down at her hands, biting her lip.
“I guess so.”
“I could make it up to both of you.” She looks at me with wide, not-innocent eyes and tentatively puts her hand on my thigh about six inches away from my mostly-soft-but-starting-to-get-hard-again dick.
While I don’t want Violet to think she has to perform sexual favors in order to redeem herself for almost causing permanent damage to my dick, my superhero cock feels differently. Violet smiles softly and she walks her fingers up my leg.
“Mouth or boobs?” She gently peels the googly eye stickers off the head. Thank God she didn’t use glue.
“Both.” I’m feeling selfish.
“Okay.” Violet kisses the tip, looking me in the eye before she engulfs the head. She pops off for a second. “But I want you to finish inside me, if that’s all right with you.”
“I guess I can do that.” That’s me being generous.In homage to the near fatal choking of my dick, Violet makes her own Play-Doh so she can fashion a replica. We make a trip to Bracebridge so she can buy craft supplies and fix the cape. This time she uses Velcro to secure the tie. She dresses up the penis replica as Super MC. It’s the centerpiece on the kitchen table, so we can look at it whenever we’re eating. It’s bizarre and something Violet would totally do.
And I still love her. In fact, for some crazy reason, I love her even more than I did before this whacked out vacation. I’ve got the ring tucked safely away in the nightstand drawer. Now, I need to put it on her finger. Over the past couple of days, I’ve come up with what I think is a good plan for a proposal. Violet isn’t flashy; she’ll appreciate something less ostentatious than, say, a public profession of unending love. Besides, I’ve already done that. Tomorrow is our last day here, and then it’s back to reality. I need to bite the bullet tonight.
