Happy Kinky New Year

Jan 3, 2014

The circus never stops here in Hanwell. Christmas is barely digested and the last profiterole eaten before any number of you eager subbies are beating my door down, all desperate for an appointment. Isn't it lucky for you that your mistress is always in the kinkiest of moods? I guess a brief festive break brings out the best and worst in us all. Let's be honest, the wind and rain may be howling outside but indoors, where the heating blares and the equipment shines, there is no place like playtime.

Detailing today's adventure would be a tad difficult if I were to try and outline ALL I have done. It has been a whirlwind of bodies piling up high and wide, all ready to be beaten, abused, filled and fucked into the next millennium. OK, I admit this is a slight exaggeration as you all know I like spaces in between my bookings to collect my thoughts and sort out the play space ready for the next appointment. Needless to say, despite my best efforts to plan a variety of sessions, all of the bookings seemed to be of the latex variety (yeah!) But, 'hey,' what are loyal owned slaves for if you can't call on them when needed and dish out the orders to clean and tidy everything mistress has been using that day. Of course, I could thank these wretches for their work - that would be polite - but naturally I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. They all know only too well that it is a enviable privilege to be summoned from their normal places of work, from their families and from their comfortable home surrounding to get elbow deep in washing used talcum-powder-covered catsuits, gloves, chaps and all of the other fascinating accoutrements of my daily work. I sometimes think that the dirtier the jobs I leave my owned slaves to do, the more excited they get at the opportunity to please me.

My first session of the day, a regular visitor to my Hanwell chamber, seemed to be getting a tad of hassle from home, judging by the consistent phone calls he received to inquire about his whereabouts. Naturally, a spell with the electrics on 'sound activation' were ideal to teach this male a lesson in dungeon etiquette. It turned what might have been the nuisance of his phone ringing into a wonderful game of shocking electrics every time it started to sound. Soon enough a prolonged exposure to the sucking rigours of the milking machine, accompanied by the multitude of electro-internal bands seemed to push this subbie into a trance-like state of brimming ecstasy. 'Not too soon though,' I thought: I still have many more tortures in mind for you. 

All of this kinkiness had wetted my appetite from some serious, extreme bondage and, using a combination of ear plugs, ear defenders and blindfolds, it was very easy to lock this hapless male specimen into his own isolated world, removing all of the outside stimuli of sight and sounds and thereby concentrating all of his energy on the senses and sensations that were tormenting and caressing his flesh. A tweak here, a nudge there from me and and it wasn't long before this chap was cooing and oooing to command. I soon had him dressed in rubber and then covered on top of that with a leather body bag. My imagination rather went into overdrive after that and I'm not sure that the subbie knew quite what had hit him (not that I care about that, of course) In a whirl of naughtiness I got out my surgical staple machine and began stapling patterns into all of his available flesh. What wasn't stapled soon had needles pierced through it and I really went to town of the cock-and-ball torture and the electro-stim on his nipples.

I might even have felt sorry for the pain the wretch was being put through, had I not known that he was enjoying every second! It was soon time, however, to introduce the concept of a little pleasure into the mix and he was treated to a spell on my wanking machine and some prolonged teasing to build up his excitement levels to near-bursting point. That was all accompanied by the attachment of my gas mask re-breathing machine that has the effect of heightening every sensation. Once it is on place then only I can decide on the exact air and fun mix that gets fed down that tube. I could tell that subbie was ready to explode but there was no way, in the mood I was in, that he was ever going to be allowed to enjoy a simple milking. instead I turned all of the sensations up to the max and forced him to a painful climax he will remember for a long time to come. Happy New Year Mr Subbie... and to you all as well!
 
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