Sadistic Curiosity

Sep 11, 2013

 How many, tight rubber hoods can you squeeze, one layer on top of the other, over just one slave’s head? That was the intriguing question I set out to answer with one subbie guinea-pig last night, although his irritating squeals and his annoying need for air did bring my experiment to a slightly premature close. I had suspended my slave upright, bound in a strait-jacket, with electrics in place in his arse and around his cock and balls. Being the kind and thoughtful Mistress that I am, I left the electric current just ticking over at a level where his moans were suitably subdued and had even been good enough to attach my milking machine to constantly suck away at his cock as the experiment continued. Honestly, sometimes I think I must be going soft as time goes by!

Once I was happy that the milker speed was slow enough to frustrate the slave, rather than letting him cum (I obviously did not want the test stopped with any form of unauthorised ejaculation) then I lined up the first of the rubber hoods to fit over his head. It was a particularly tight-fitting pink little number with a painted face that I though made him look quite cool. It was certainly an improvement on the slave’s natural features and so I was encouraged to continue apace. Hoods two, three and four slipped on relatively easily with a pleasing variety of colours and textures although my slave reported that his fear level, on my scale of one-to-ten was rising rapidly as each layer was added. I always like to keep track of how scared my slaves are – it makes no difference to me, of course, if they get utterly terrified and panic, but I do like to collect the data just for my own sadistic, scientific curiosity.

Hoods five and six slightly changed my slave’s voice as the masks underneath were squeezed even tighter around his face and he began panting a little more with fear and the challenge of sucking enough air in through the multiple layers encasing his head. I knew he could breathe safely but could tell he was approaching his limits by the way he was frantically shaking his now-party balloon sized head. That was my cue to add another rubber layer or two and then strap on just a few extra layers of rubber medical masks over the front of my creation. I would have loved to carry on with my plan to wrap shrink-wrap tightly around everything to keep it neat and today but my slave’s muffled sobs were now starting to get on my nerves and his tears were dribbling out under his collar. Even pumping up the electrics higher and higher didn’t seem enough to keep him quiet and so I reluctantly decided to bring the fun to an end and carry on further with him another day. I know this somewhat claustrophobic slave will look forward to that with eager anticipation. He knows that his Mistress always keeps her promises.

There was however to be a price to pay for the release of his head from its dark, rubber prison. I had earlier strapped his hands out of the way and instructed the wretch to fetch and carry various pieces of equipment and rope to use in his session. He took for ages to gather everything up and bring it back to me. Now I am never unreasonable about such things: I know that it is not as easy as it looks to pick up bundles of rope with your teeth and lips – but this slave was clearly taking the piss. I had counted out a full ten seconds before he returned to my side with the objects I had requested. Ten whole seconds! The upshot was that as I removed each and every layer of hood from his head, I covered all of his air holes with my rubber-gloved hands for that same ten second period. The beauty of this is that it has a delicious cumulative effect. Holding one’s breath for ten seconds, even when counted at ‘Mistress slow speed,’ is simple: but do it when you are already on the edge of panic and when you know it will happen over and over and over again, and it all gets a bit tougher. Just as it should do.

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