Hot Time in Hanwell

Jul 7, 2015

Thank God for air-conditioning! On one of the hottest days of the year I had the help of sweet Sherry to assist me in restraining, controlling and frustrating two of my most needy and pathetic male slaves in my Hanwell dungeons. It was a little like a bondage and domination tag-team as first Sherry and then I popped in and out of my various play-rooms making sure that each slave was suitably tied-up and suitably suffering to meet our demanding standards of BDSM delights.

I took charge of one slave in the upstairs dungeon and soon had him trussed up and helpless in a heavy leather body bag around which I wound tie after tie of heavy duty rope. Wrapped up like a parcel, with just his head emerging from his leather cocoon, I could simply sit back and watch him wriggle with desier, resting my booted feet on his chest and face and allowing him the occasional glance at his Mistress's thighs and my erotic new costume which he claimed made me resemble 'Xena' the warrior Queen. I told him that flattery would get him nowhere and - just to prove that point - slipped off my boots and allowed him the merest scent of my bare feet, dangling teasingly-close to his lips. On this hot day, he was begging for the chance to lick between my toes but, knowing how much pleasure that would give him, I, of course, ignored all of his entreaties.

His frustration levels mounted as I strapped a powerful magic Wand vibrator between his legs, letting its vibrating tip touch (but never satisfy) the end of his cock. He stayed like that for an hour, struggling for the orgasm I was never going to allow him, whilst I sat back, laughed at him, occasionally spat in his face and - as a very special treat indeed - allowed him the scent of his Mistress that he was so desperate to experience.

In the meantime, Sherry was working her similar magic on my other slave, trapped downstairs in the suspension room until the point where we swapped clients and each carrried on the work of driving them crazy with unsatisfied lust. I did have to admire Sherry's work in the medical room: with a combination of wanking, electrifying, needle-play and finally tipping my slave onto all fours and milking him like an animal, she managed to make him cry with need for sexual release.

Our other male victim could hear but not see what was happening as Sherry shouted out a stream of filthier and filthier stories to exicte her victim to the point where he was certain to lose all control. The listening slave had already spent hours in chains in the Hanwell cell block and was also desperate to cum. Did we finally take pity and let either of them climax? Well... that's for Sherry and I to know and for them to cry over, isn't it? Time for us all to cool off now in such hot weather I think! 

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