Piss Boarding

Feb 6, 2013

After meeting the lovely lady Rochester recently and acquiring the recipe for a wonderful (protein) chocolate cake, I felt inspired to cook, cook, cook the weekend away: I say the weekend but I actually mean Saturday. Alas, nobody had told lady Rochester that I am the world’s worst cook because I never measure out ingredients and always substitute items as I go. You won’t be surprised to hear then that batch One was an utter disaster. Why, you may ask, have I written a blog about this? The reason, my dear followers, is that I fully intended to feed the foul creation to my hapless band of slaves, who would of course work the hardest to convince me that it was the utter delight to the tastebuds. January has not been the best start to the year because I have been plagued with horrible bugs, leaving me as unfit as I have been for quite a while. Seeing lady Rochester, however, with her massive weight loss has spurred me on to get back on track. However it’s now the 5th of February and I’ve still not managed to make it into the gym: tomorrow is another day and that’s when the hard work starts.

One of the reasons why I have not managed to train to the limit so far this year is that I have spent far too many hours getting all my accounts totally up to date. An organised life gives me an organised mind. That is until today, when for some reason my creative juices were in full, if somewhat chaotic, flow for my long suffering loyal slave who happened to wander in for a gentle session….like hell he was going to get that! Starting the scene by dressing the slut in stockings, corset, hood, used tights and heavy duty bondage, I promptly added a massive butt plug and CBT electrics. We started with an hour or more with him strapped to my body board suffering the terror of repeated hoods and suffocation whilst I softened him up for the session still to come. Then came another couple of hours in my medical room, constantly wanked over and over again by the tireless suctioning pump of my wonderful Serious Kit milking machine. He was getting SO frustrated and the machine was set at a speed which I’ve learned by experience is enough to stimulate mercilessly and yet never allow my patients to reach a climax. This slave was left in no doubt that he had to earn any relief today by unquestioning obedience to my every cruel whim and by not complaining even when my breath control techniques took him to the edge of panic… and beyond.

Moving on eventually to my upstairs dungeon I decided to put this slave through the same rubber bondage that a fellow slave had endured just a few days ago. The two slaves have been talking on twitter (beware Miss Miranda knows your every move: Big Sister is always watching you) so I thought that what was good for one had to be good for the other. The only challenge was that my slave today is intensely claustrophobic and so having layer after layer of rubber across the body and face was perhaps harder for him, especially when I started inflating the outer layer of the three body bags in which he was encased. The only part of his body open to the air was his cock and balls and I soon discovered that a little cock stimulation with my rubber-clad hand was the key to keeping him calm enough to last out without trying to wheedle out of the task I had set.
His final torment, towards the end of what had turned into a 6 hour session was a fun game (for me) of ‘pissboarding.’ A dry towel stretched over his face on the floor soon becomes hard to breathe through when I empty the contents of my bladder over the cloth. Poor slave may not have realised that I had been holding back from visiting the loo for hours and so his torture went on… and on… and on as I pissed for England. Slave did survive to cum another day- but that may have been by my judgement than his luck: I did allow him some air from time to time when his ordeal became too much to bear: what a kind Mistress, I am!
 

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