Bastinado Bravery

Dec 31, 2013

 Another wonderful day's filming with visiting USA bondage model Elise Graves, who was only too be happy to be stripped-off, tied-up, strapped-down, encased in rubber bondage and generally abused and tormented to my heart's content in my Hanwell dungeon. Now, as my regular clients will know, I am not bisexual and much prefer a man's hard body to any woman - but Elise was so willing to be mistreated that even I couldn't resist the opportunity to watch her petite body being penetrated in various holes by a range of my toys and one of my biggest dildos attached to my ever-ready fucking machine. This session started with Elise trapped in the metal head cage on my bondage throne which seemed the ideal opportunity for some forced oral action. I soon found that one of the fucking machine cocks would slide through the mouth opening in my cage and straight between Elise's lips. How delightful to listen to her muffled cries as she gagged on the cock each time the machine thrust it more deeply towards the back of her throat; and how sad for her that she was utterly unable to shut her mouth at all and helpless to prevent the deep-throating continuing until I decided to show a little mercy and change her position.

In truth, I'm not sure quite how merciful it was because position number two saw her strapped tightly face-down across my whipping bench with her pussy freely available for more attention from the mechanical stud of my fuck-machine. As the penetration got up to speed - always under my control of course - I busied myself attaching electrified suction cup to her already-erect nipples. Once they were being well-sucked I could see her nipples growing longer and longer, which put them in perfect contact with the electrical contacts and allowed me to increase or decrease her torment at the touch of a switch. Three guesses as to whether I let her suffer or not? This face-down position inspired me to try out another refined little torture that I have rarely had the opportunity to test out on a woman like Elise. With her legs bent upwards, presenting the soles of her feet towards the ceiling, I selected a few whippy crops and a couple of canes for some bastinado beating strokes across the bottom of her feet. Of course, being The Bondage Mistress, I did have to live up to my name and tie even her individual toes to the bench so that she couldn't wiggle anything out of the way of my punishment. Then I started on the strokes, mostly on the soles but occasionally straying on to individual toes. I couldn't help thinking of the old nursery rhyme 'this little piggie went to market...' as I worked across each of her tiny tootsies. I guessed from her muffled cries of appreciation - or was it pain? - that Elise was enjoying the game almost as much as I was.

Then it was on to what I had always planned as the main event of the day: some extreme rubber bondage combined with my favourite forms of breath-control. Already encased in a tight-fitting catsuit, Elise was soon smothered in the second latext layer of a rubber bondage bag and strapped impossibly tightly to my bondage bench. I have to confess I really went to town with the straps - after all you can never have too much bondage - and with the aid of a little extra cling-film Elise was soon trussed up like the proverbial turkey and buried under layer after layer of heavy rubber. I could tell from the way her cries and her breathing patterns altered that being in this womb-like confinement was sending her into the realms of sub-space as her mind shut down a little to cope with the challenges I was setting her. Even before the bondage started I had equipped Elise with a variety of electrics, including pads on and around each nipple. an electric plug in her vagina and more pads on the cheeks of her bottom. It was satisfying to adjust the level of current and pain for each part of her body so that I could send the maximum-possible sensations thrusting in and around her.

The beauty of the outer body bag I had selected was that it is also fitted with an internal pump-up rubber gag and gas mask breathing tubes which have just one small metal opening supplying all of her air. Soon I was introducing Elise to the fun of my 'counting game,' always a favourite with my male subbies. The rules are simple: I decide on a secret number I am going to count to and we gradually work up to that number, cutting off the air supply for as long as it takes for me to count. The first few 'one... two.. three...' counts before air is restored are realtively easy for the smothered slave but it's not long before the start of true fear and the edge of panic sets in as we pass ' six... seven... eight..' with no idea of how long the count may continue. In Elise's case I could see that we were really beginning to challenge all of her submissive abilities but she still had no idea of how awfu;l an ordeal she was about to endure. The thing is that I've found all of my slaves abilities to cope are lessened as soon as they are plunged into darkness. Accordingly, I wrapped sheet after sheet of cling film across Elise gas-mask eyes before we started counting all over again.

In the end, of course, I had to let the poor girl breathe again and once she had herself back under control, I explained that I was going to leave her in darkness, encased in inescapable rubber and with the gas mask firmly in place, while I popped out to get myself a welcome cup of coffee. The truth is that for safety reasons I never leave my slaves alone in such a position - but in the quiet of the dungeon Elise had no way of knowing how cruel I would be. All she could hear was my high-heel boots click-clacking to the door and the sudden peace that descended on the room. How scared are you now young lady? Very scared indeed was my bet! Welcome to the bondage mistress' lair.

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