Hot Cock Treatment

Feb 1, 2013

 As my regular slaves will know, my Hanwell premises are packed with every conceivable type of equipment for restraining, tormenting and teasing all of the men and women who venture into my dungeon domain. Sometimes my session are a whirl of activity, moving from room to room, strapping down slaves hither and thither before attaching some of my many wanking and sucking and fucking machines to the more sensitive parts of their bodies.

Occasionally, however, it is pleasant to sit back a little more calmly, concentrate on one particular room and one particular activity and let the full flow of my creative juices work on transporting a slave into areas of sub-space that he has never dreamt of before.
Such was the case this week with my loyal slave Arnold, who I usually treat with the full range of bondage and torture paraphernalia in every part of my premises. The man is such a dedicated kinkster that we have been working together for some years now to try and find the limits of his depravity and his sick lust for life. He is the living embodiment of my oft-quoted saying: “…however depraved, however humiliating, my slaves will do it for me.” Under my guidance Arnold has been transformed from a shy, innocent little thing, who once cried at the thought of a nipple clamp or a bondage hood, into a submissive slut who will perform with anything - or any person - I choose.

For the hopeless wretch’s latest session, I decided to concentrate purely on the medical aspects of his training with tied down to my medical bench in the Clinic. I gathered together a decent selection of medicines and surgical equipment got him naked in front of me and started to work my hypnotic magic on his mind. He knows by now that the first essential is a convenient rope tied round his middle which will eventually be used to secure one of my larger electric butt-plugs in place, or possibly to strap the wanking tube of my Venus machine securely round his cock and balls. Disappointingly, however, I still had to show him the correct knots to use: honestly, I sometimes despair at how a slave’s brain so quickly migrates at the start of a session from his head to the bell-end of his cock!

Once we had him prepared, I commenced his treatment with some fiery Deepheat cream which I knew would warm up him for the intense torments to come. Squeezing half a tube into the palms of my rubber-gloved hands, I waited for Arnold to politely beg for the torture to be applied before I massaged it between his legs; playing particular attention of course to his balls, the shaft of his cock and the little folds under his foreskin. Luckily, there was just enough cream left over to push into his urethra and then to lubricate the metal shaft of the hollow enema tube which I plunged deep into his rear. It was gratifying to see his sweet little face pucker up with pleasure; in fact, I could have sworn I saw tears of gratitude in his eyes as the cream started to bite into every nerve ending of his genitals. Then it was on with the milking machine tube so that he could spend the whole of the session being wanked and sucked by its incessant slow rhythm.

I had dressed especially for the occasion in my rather old-fashioned, Victorian nurse’s uniform, so administering his enema seemed a fitting next step. I did have a rather pleasant bottle of Pinot Grigio to hand, and I knew Arnold would not be driving that night, so I decided to experiment with an anal-alcohol infusion. A half bottle of wine was soon drizzled into his rectum and I sat back with interest to see how quickly he would get pissed. A little while later, I added the second half of the bottle to his bottom tube and watched as it gently disappeared from view. The transformation from sobriety to tipsiness took some time but Arnold was soon more helpless in my hands than ever. The rest of his session passed in a happy haze of electrics, wanking machines and rebreathing bags before he struggled to reach a climax with the application of my most powerful vibrator. It is a tribute to Arnold’s ability to hold his drink (albeit in his arse) and to my most-filthy whispered fantasies that a successful milking was finally achieved. All without moving my slave from his initial trussed-up position and with a minimum of stress, fuss and bother for me. A good result all round, I feel.

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