What a Carry On

Aug 21, 2012


Poor frustrated David just couldn’t help himself; I think he hit new heights of depravity and frustration all in the way of an orgasm....which never came. Let’s set the scene. Starting early in the day, David was summoned to perform his ‘maid duties’. By this I mean that he has regular chores to perform that involve tidying, cleaning and even cooking for me (I am a girl who loves her food after all). After ensuring that all of these were performed to their upmost best, the torment started.

‘I want 5 things applied, balls tied, nipples clamped, ass plugged, gagged to drool and collar to add the finishing touch. Once applied you must suffer that for 45 minutes continuing the next set of tasks before we start your session at 3’. Obviously I cast an eye over what David had selected, he had done an excellent job with the nipples, selecting the worst possible clamps going so 1 star for that. The rest however was hideously under par. The gag was not an O gag as expected (i had not instructed this, simply a drool gag but as he has been many times before he should have known better). The ball tying, well, that was just a joke, the balls were not separated and tied, a loose rope circle had been placed on the base and the ass, a tiny pathetic plug was inserted, hardly noticeable. ’Don’t worry’ I thought, ‘his time will come’.

3 o clock arrived and David was sent to the medical room to tie himself up. ‘What on earth have you done’, I exclaimed with all the menace I could muster. After working through his 4 out of 5 failings, it was time to dish out the punishment. An 80% failure could not go unnoticed, so out came the sutures and ‘hello foreskin’. It’s funny watching a grown man pale before my very eyes with 4 strategically placed sutures to stretch the foreskin into a nice square, my little ‘birdie with his open mouth’ took shape. That was not the end; I needed to ensure no repeat performances were to follow, so with the aid of some attractive coloured needles, the birdie began to resemble a flower head, with orange needles creating the bloom of choice. This was indeed the start of a MAMMOTH session that didn’t actually finish until 1am (although the true culmination came to fruition at 7am as the slave was imprisoned until the following morning). What happened in between, well that is the stories that legends are made of.
 

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