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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Crawling on my hands and knees, I followed Her down the hallway, past the living room and dining room, and through the kitchen to the pantry. There we came to a closed door. I watched as my Mistress entered a code into the keypad by the doorknob, and heard the click of the lock disengaging.

After opening the door she pulled me to my feet, unclipped the leash from my collar, and took me by the arm. We began to descend a dimly lit stairway, moving slowly and carefully; the stairs were narrow and a little rickety. As we got closer to the bottom my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and what I saw sent a shiver up my spine: ropes, chains, whips, paddles, and some other things that were completely mysterious to me. The word that popped into my head was “dungeon,” and indeed that is what this room is called; I have spent a lot of time there since.

One little thing I’ve learned about my Mistress — a weakness, if you want to call it that — is that she loves to shop. And so she had gotten a little carried away in outfitting this place, buying all sorts of gear, some of which was used rarely if at all. But at the time it was pretty intimidating.

In the middle of the room was a platform shaped like a five-pointed star. My Mistress helped me up onto it and clipped my wrists and ankles into built-in restraints. As I gazed up at the seemingly distant ceiling, I reflected again that I didn’t really know Her all that well, in the scheme of things. I could disappear into this dungeon, never to be seen again, and no one would ever know what had happened to me.

But then she bent over me and I looked up into Her eyes. They were serious eyes, the eyes of Taksim travesti a person not to be trifled with; but there was also a reassuring warmth there. I felt sure that she would never harm me. If she chose to punish me, it would be for my own good.

Then a blindfold slipped over my eyes and I saw nothing.

2.

Blind and helpless as I was, I could feel every sensation very intensely. At first it was just the cool air of the basement room playing over my naked skin. After a minute I felt something hard being snapped onto my right nipple, then a few seconds later onto my left.

Nipple clamps were another thing I’d seen pictures of but never experienced in real life. They didn’t really hurt, per se; it was more just that they brought my awareness to my swollen, sensitive little buds. The itch that had been growing between my legs accelerated that much more.

Next I felt something tiny dig into the flesh of my neck and begin to crawl down across my shoulder. Nowadays I would know immediately that it was my Mistress using a pinwheel to stimulate me; at the time it was a completely novel feeling. The little pinpricks were both mildly painful and gently thrilling. They moved all the way down one side of my body to my feet and up the other side, then down my chest and across my belly.

By the time She arrived between my legs I was beside myself. My whole body was alive with an intense, throbbing sense of need. Feeling the cool metal dig into the tender skin of my inner thighs caused me to tremble all over and moan pitifully. I couldn’t see Her at the time because of the blindfold, but thinking about it now I enjoy imagining Taksim travestileri the satisfied smile on Her face as she tormented me.

Finally I heard a clink as she sat the pinwheel down. Every part of me was alive with excitement as I awaited Her next move: would it be pain, or pleasure, or some combination of the two?

Then I felt Her lips trailing through my pubic hair. It was long enough now to start curling a little bit, and I knew that would please Her. She slowly inched her way down and down and when at last she kissed my clit, in the state I was in, that was all it took. I orgasmed violently, shaking all over and pulling fruitlessly at the restraints holding my arms and legs.

“Good girl,” my Mistress whispered. She slid a finger inside me, then brought the juice-coated digit to my mouth and had me suck it. I did so happily; meanwhile Her other hand was moving down to my chest and tugging at the chain connecting the nipple clamps. I yelped at the sudden twin jabs of pain, then exhaled as they subsided. Then the hand moved down between my legs again. I felt one finger penetrate me, then another, then another. Before long I was coming again.

Over the next few minutes (or was it hours? Time quickly ceased to have any meaning) she used Her hands, Her mouth, and all Her considerable skill to make me climax over and over and over again, occasionally yanking on the chain to mix in a little pain, which just made the next orgasm all the more intense.

It was all a little overwhelming. At one point I might even have asked Her to stop, had I been capable of speech at the time. But I was not. By the time she Travesti taksim was done with me I was a limp, soggy lump of happy jelly that had once been a girl.

3.

When she pulled the blindfold off I looked up into Her eyes and muttered, “My God.”

“God had nothing to do with it,” she sniffed. “But you’re welcome. Now it’s your turn to do something for me.”

Her hands reached down toward my head and I felt a weight on my face. Then Her hands moved behind me and I felt something being fastened there. Looking up I saw that a long, thick black phallus was now extending from the front of my face. When I moved my head it wobbled in the air.

There was a whirring sound and the platform I was on began to sink toward the ground. When it was at the height she wanted, my Mistress — now naked from the waist down — positioned Herself over my head.

She began to lower herself and soon I had the unique pleasure of watching Her impale Herself on the fat dildo extending from my face like a grotesque overgrown nose. I inhaled and took in a deep lungful of Her scent, which had quickly become my favorite smell in the whole wide world. It was a little frustrating that I couldn’t taste Her, but I enjoyed watching Her pussy move up and down on the meaty shaft, and hearing Her moan above me as she indulged Herself.

Now she spun around 180 degrees, reaching down and holding onto my boobs to support her weight. This caused the clamps to dig harder into my nipples. I gasped and let out a little groan but of course I wasn’t going to complain. After all it wasn’t my feelings that mattered here; I was simply acting as an instrument of Her pleasure.

When she climbed off I watched the dildo bob in the air and wondered what it would feel like inside me. I didn’t get to find out that day but I’ve experienced it plenty of times since then. It’s nice, but I much prefer the feeling of Her strap-on. I’ll tell you all about that next time.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32