Sunday, May 15, 2016

An Exclusive Play Party, Part 5: The Gas Mask

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. 

(FYI: all links in this post are good)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "Read Part 4 here: An Exclusive Play Party, Part 4: The FFM, Sorta It was around 8 AM when I finally had my long-awaited orgasm. Afterwards, slave-boy and I stayed in the bedroom and were lounging around on the bed as people filtered back in. Slave-boy "

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

An Exclusive Play Party, Part 5: The Gas Mask

by Pervertically Virtuous
It was around 8 AM when I finally had my long-awaited orgasm. Afterwards, slave-boy and I stayed in the bedroom and were lounging around on the bed as people filtered back in. Slave-boy had just been fed a dose of GHB and mine was in full swing. I was idly hurting his cock and balls while chatting with some new friends. When one of them said she needed some Adderall to help her keep going, I realized I could help. I sent slave-boy upstairs to get a few pills we had brought with us just in case, and he soon returned carrying not only the pills, but also his gas mask.
image added 2016, original not recovered
It was a happy accident that the gas mask ended up in NYC. It had been gathering dust beneath some random clothing items in a bin by my desk in Unitown. When Ace came to pick us up for the BDSM/swinger party in NYC, we packed some things from my room into the car to jumpstart the moving-out process. Slave-boy was unpacking these bins in the New York apartment when he pulled out the gas mask like a treasure. I laughed: "Now we have to play with it! Put it in the toy bag."
With everything that happened that evening, I had completely forgotten about the gas mask. As soon as I saw slave-boy bringing it in, my face lit up. "Good idea!" I said and had him put it on. He lay back down on the bed for more tormenting at my hands, assuming his usual position with arms folded beneath his back. But he's a greedy slut; he arched his back up and looked at me with pleading eyes and I got the message: I clipped his already cuffed wrists together.
I hadn't gotten too much farther when a girl walked in, saw the gas mask, and suddenly asked: "So what's the deal with gas masks? Like - what's the attraction?"
I explained about the neurochemical effects of restricting oxygen intake, the vulnerability of having one's breathing controlled, the objectification of it.. All the things that make slave-boy love it so much. His love for the material itself notwithstanding, of course.
Vincent, a tall, skinny, blond-haired beauty who reminded me of Vincent Cassel (whose girlfriend was unfortunately way too big for my taste), suggested the girl's interest in the gas mask meant she wanted to try it."
I took him up on that suggestion. "Do you want to try it?" I asked, and those words sent a little thrill down slave-boy's spine.
"Sure," said the girl, and I took the mask off slave-boy and unclipped his wrists so he could help adjust the straps on the girl.
"It's actually really comfortable" she said.
"Kind of intimate?" slave-boy asked. "I love the way the rubber gently but firmly clamps itself around my nose, mouth, chin and face."
The girl agreed.
"Want us to touch you a little?" I asked. The girl said a muffled yes and nodded.
It started slowly at first – gently teasing her nipples. Slave-boy asked her if he could suck on them, then if he could bite her a little, and she agreed. I asked if she wanted me to hold her breath, and once again it was OK. She even said she'd self-restrain with her arms under her back or pressed against the headboard. But no need – the others on the bed started getting involved and gently held her as I pressed my palm to the inlet port of the mask.
Vincent asked if he should go get the Hitachi. The gas masked girl agreed again. We were all holding her down firmly now and she was moaning and closing her eyes with the sensations. I had never seen a girl wearing a gas mask up-close and was fascinated with how pretty she looked in it. I kept telling her how it brought out her eyes.
Vincent came back with the Hitachi, plugged it in, and pressed it against the girl's clitoris. I held her breath, as four other people held down her arms and legs, and soon the buzzing wand brought her to a very hot orgasm.
"That was so intense!" the girl said.
With a kind of knowing, 'uh huh' look, I agreed and asked if she wanted out of the mask.
"No, it's fine, I like having it on" she said. I exchanged amused glances with slave-boy and he exclaimed "We have a convert!"
We continued the conversation about how intense the orgasms are and I started playing with slave-boy some more. He had been such a good boy all night and I thought he deserved an orgasm himself. I asked the girl if she would like to try holding his breath, and he dutifully lifted his back again so I could clip his hands together. The girl clamped her hand over his mouth and nose and played with one nipple while I worked his cock and played with the other nipple. He lay there in slavely bliss as the two of us played with him and enjoyed his twitches and suppressed moans.
I was, of course, not gentle with his poor genitals. They saw their fair share of abuse until I started jerking him forcefully and said "Come for me, my boy." He and the girl looked into each others' eyes and he held back none of his slutty enjoyment. They stayed this way as his eyes started bulging and rolling back as he thrashed in orgasm, moaning and jerking and desperately needing air which she finally gave him. He thanked both of us deeply and sincerely and nuzzled the girl's mask, gratefully caressing her nipple with his mouth.
Soon after, the girl ran off to show off her mask to the people in the other rooms. We really did have a convert.
Next Installment:
An Exclusive Play Party, Part 6: The Bathtub
Related posts:
NYC Play Party Review: Top Floor
An Exclusive NYC Play Party, Part 1: Socializing
Pervertically Virtuous | May 16, 2013 at 10:00 am | Categories: Sex Stories | 

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