Wednesday, July 20, 2016

“Farewell” Weekend: Slave-Boy Turns Dominant

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: some links in this post are dead)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "This is a guest post by slave-boy, my former slave who is now a free man about to embark on a very interesting new life adventure. Things are coming to a close here in Unitown for me before moving to Europe. Naturally, I'd been hoping to go out with a ba"

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

"Farewell" Weekend: Slave-Boy Turns Dominant

by Pervertically Virtuous
DJing in Latex
This is a guest post by slave-boy, my former slave who is now a free man about to embark on a very interesting new life adventure.
Things are coming to a close here in Unitown for me before moving to Europe. Naturally, I'd been hoping to go out with a bang, indulging in my two passions to the fullest – DJ'ing and BDSM. Over the course of two nights of partying and sex, I can only hope I did my Mistress and former Owner proud with all the mischief I got up to.
Friday night I made my way to the party at one of the coolest co-op houses in Unitown, backpack full of latex and leather, big fetish boots clunking in a bag at my side, and a steadily growing excitement. I was just in time to set up the first DJ in the main room, then went up to my friend Karina's room on the second floor to get help changing into my suit. It was a "colors" themed party and I hoped to satisfy by dressing in all black. Every time, it seems to go more quickly. The latex feels softer, slicker. I know better how to deal with the bunched up parts. And I take extra care with the repaired spots on the arm-torso seam where a hole tragically appeared a few weeks ago. I straightened up at last and asked Karina if she would kindly zip me up. And I was sealed in once again underneath the beautiful (and only slightly too large) Neosteel collar. "Let's go party," she said. A solid bump of coke for us each and we were ready to go down and face the growing crowd.
Most of what happened until I started DJ'ing at 2 AM boiled down to walking around the space, being touched / photographed / admired / asked where I got the suit, and... meeting old friends. Most notably, a very well-muscled and even more drunk Tanner. This gorgeous black man with a huge cock was legendary to me because several years ago he'd fucked (DP-ed even) Her along with another (slightly less well-hung) black friend of theirs. Charming, adorable, and evidently spending a lot more time in the gym, Tanner started modeling and had been the object of some recent admiration / Facebook stalking on O/our part. He was with a roommate who, confronted with this completely fetished-out individual, toed the line between unease and bemusement. Tanner exclaimed when he saw me, his sweet R&B-tuned voice saying "I LOVE your suit! I'm so into this, did you know? I love the latex. Here, let me find these pictures, I dressed all in liquid latex. That's my stuff!" What a pleasant surprise. The greeting hug turned into a passionate, messy kiss right on the well-lit, open landing in front of everyone just coming in the door. I loved it. He showed me some Facebook pictures of himself with some black stuff smeared unevenly over his chest.
"I just.. this is too much," he said, rubbing my torso. I told him how hot he was, how good his muscles looked and felt. I tried to ask him what he was still doing there at Unitown, but we got distracted. He pulled me close to him and said we should go upstairs and... catch up. By this point I was expecting to start spinning within 15-20 minutes, and was also a bit coked up, so I told him I was very much willing, but it'd be best to wait until after. Besides, the whole point of going to a dance party is to stay to the end! This is something She and I agree on fundamentally.
However, he would not be dissuaded. He asked me to get him and his housemate up to the second floor (off-limits to non-residents) so they could use the bathroom. I chaperoned them up, still chatting with Tanner and telling him how much She admired his body as well. His eyes went wide and a kind of guilty smirk came over his face, childlike and charming. Scarcely had the girl closed the stall door in the unisex bathroom when he was reaching for my crotch and with an almost instinctive ease, unzipped my crotch and wiggled out my poor, shriveled cock and balls from the sweaty confines of the latex. I started to apologize that they were a little cramped in there, and that I was on coke, but he was already sucking and licking with gusto.
Wow. What a slut, just like me. He paused for a moment and seemed to come to his senses. He stood up, finger pressed to his mouth, anxiously glancing over at the girl's stall. I'm sure she had a perfect idea of what was going on. He asked again if we could just... go somewhere and catch up. I was very excited about all of this but my first duty was to the party. I told him, after another excellent cock-and-lube-flavored kiss, that I wanted to see him there when the party was over. Alas, that was the last I saw of him that night. I'll be meeting him again soon though, I've decided on it.
More parading around, a healthy dose of hash, and before I knew it, my turn on the decks had arrived. It was just like old times in college when I'd DJ at co-op houses like these sometimes twice or three times in a weekend, except of course for my latex suit. I wish I'd been as open back then given how resoundingly positive everyone's reactions have been. The DJ'ing itself went fine – good fun, people dancing solidly until 3:45 AM or so. Every now and then I'd realize that I was in the middle of an unusually good mix, using records I wouldn't normally have picked. Certainly a great feeling.
The only hitch, and it was a big one, was the heat. This was a crowded co-op house dining hall on a summer night, with mattresses over the windows to keep the noise from attracting police attention. I was pouring sweat about halfway into my set, despite my friends' valiant efforts bringing fans to keep me cool. I had a lucid moment of fear about heat exhaustion, and made the sad but necessary decision to peel off the upper half of the suit. Instant relief. It really did feel amazing while it was on, especially after the hash. THC is really a sensual, stimulating drug for me and I reflected, a little wistfully, on Her strong anti-weed feelings and how W/we had never played while I was under its influence. Oh well, it was her decision in any case, and I think being weed-free for a while did me a lot of good.
But I digress. Around the very end it was mostly just co-op house kids dancing in a big circle around someone with a light-up hula hoop. It was mesmerizing. I played one of my special, melodic atmospheric tracks to end things and went out onto the dancefloor to join them for a last few minutes. After the music stopped, Karina and I climbed upstairs to see who was still awake but none of our close friends were awake or available, so we prepared to get to bed.
Karina and I did a few BDSM sessions together - switching roles each time - while I was still Her slave (with Her permission, of course). But since She left, I'd had problems getting excited about doing BDSM things, with Karina or otherwise. I was less torn up about my tragic "liberation" from slavehood than before, but I still felt like my mojo was missing. More than ever I am sure that my place is at the feet of an Owner. Maybe this realization sapped my assertive / extroverted side. I'd met up with Karina, bag in hand, for the past few days but the toys had never ended up coming out. I was aware that she preferred bottoming, but I felt insecure about taking charge. I worried that we were stuck in the friend zone.
So it was with few expectations that I climbed into the communal shower with her after some half-hearted cuddling and touching on her bed. I was definitely still feeling good from the coke and hash, but the suit and gloves kept sticking to her and things didn't really lift off, even though I was decked out in my dream outfit. It felt a bit like we'd given up, just getting clean enough to pass out.
As soon as the water started running over my latex-covered body, however, things changed. The tight sliding of the latex over my skin started to have its effect, as well as her attraction to me. Almost without thinking I reached for her breasts with my black, shiny, slippery hands and started fondling them. I chewed on her nipples. I covered her nose and mouth while holding her arms behind her. And it felt good. Every now and then we'd kind of pause to wash a little more, but by now I was filled with lust.
Soon my slick, shiny fingers slipped into her pussy, as I either choked her, muffled her voice or pinched her nipple with the other hand. My mouth stayed on the other nipple, licking, biting and chewing. At some point I shoved fingers into her moaning throat until she started to choke, but I could tell she enjoyed it – her eyes rolled back, and her neck arched submissively upwards.
For her part, she'd occasionally grab my hair or run her nails over my scalp, especially as I tried going down on her briefly, but the positioning didn't work so well. Besides, I was feeling very dominant, more than I had in a long time. A great moment: I was slapping her clit while choking her, and getting little moans of pleasure out of her. She slipped slightly and bumped into the shower valve, turning all the water off, and for just a moment it became painfully obvious to the person showering next to us exactly what was going on.
I ended up staying in the suit. We went back to her bedroom and I wasted no time in cuffing her arms behind her back. After checking to make sure she was comfortable and willing, I zipped her into the heavy rebreathing hood, buckled a leather collar over it, and connected a D-ring on the back to her wrists with a short chain. I put a couple of pillows behind her to ease the strain on her arms, and after a bit of introductory teasing, left her sightless and helpless while I rummaged in her desk. With a metallic rattle that would send shivers of fear and anticipation when I was Hers, there it was in my hand – the Wartenburg wheel. I shook it near Karina's head to make sure she knew what was coming.
I savored the way her prone body looked. I gave her a taste of the wheel from one collar bone down between her breasts, a quick, shocking stimulation. I listened for the sharp gasp through the mask's breathing hole. I fondled one nipple and bit the other. I covered the hole of the hood with my hand and pressed the mouthpiece tight to her face. I let her feel it for a little while, as she sank into a submissive relaxation. Such a good girl. I put my finger deep into the hole and felt around for her eager sucking lips. Pushed it in enough to seal the opening, and just let her suck without air. I gave her pussy a loving slap or two. I could hardly wait to put the breathing bag onto her smooth, shiny face. An obscene, problematic organ attached to her, one she was helpless to remove. Inflating and deflating.
Here was this naked, masked girl in front of me completely at my mercy. I had to take a moment and remind myself that this was what she wanted, that she trusted me, and was having a great time. And that all I had to do was whatever I wanted to do. I basically had a carte blanche, which is a strange thing for a formerly-owned slave to contemplate having in his hands. I looked down at her and, amazingly, saw her now as an object to satisfy me sexually, nothing more. I felt no special responsibility to make her feel good beyond what I cared to. It was such an ego trip. I felt a vertiginous rush of power.
I took my time with the Wartenburg wheel. Over and over on her nipple. I dug my fingers into her armpits and mercilessly worked them around. I loved feeling her struggle and seeing the yelps and moans that came out of this toy filling the merciless rubber breathing bag. I kept pushing her head sideways so it would inflate properly and force more of her old air back into her lungs. When the mood struck me, I blocked off the small inlet and either tortured or stimulated her. My only concern was not to make her panic, which would force me to let her out. But she took it well. She was a good girl.
I slid down and gave her clit some special attention. I spread her lips wide with one shiny hand and firmly held the wheel against the poor little button of flesh. Slowly rolled back and forth. Tapped. Went up and down either labia. And took a break to lick, or hold her breath again. I was getting so horny with her at my mercy, I decided to do something very uncharacteristic for me – I rolled on a condom and, after hurting her with one hand and jerking myself to full hardness with the other, I slid inside her dripping pussy.
I grabbed her by the collar and held her head down firmly. I choked her, slapped her breasts violently. I held her breath. I made sure not to come too soon. I paced myself. I contended myself with just sliding steadily, holding her air closed. In and out her breaths came, growing quicker and shallower. In and out I slid and pumped and enjoyed this hot wet hole. Her breaths kept speeding up, growing ragged. I was sure she would ask for air soon, but she was taking it well and giving in to the sensations. I kept my fingers tight over the inlet. She seemed desperately short of breath, but still I didn't let up and finally I pumped into her for all I was worth and came, groaning, into her helpless shaking body. I was drenched in sweat under the suit but just lay there on top of her for a moment.
When I pulled the rebreather out of her perfectly round breathing orifice, I felt like I was giving her her reward – fresh air, life. She sucked in big greedy gulps of air. I didn't know whether she had come or not. Maybe she did. I know that she probably had a great time, but for once, I didn't care. She was mine for those few minutes, and I had used her to my satisfaction.
Need some new sex toys? Visit Eden Fantasys or Extreme Restraints.
Trying to set up a fun hook-up? Try Adult FriendFinder.
Other posts by slave-boy:
The Rubber K-Hole
Introducing a Coworker to Gay Male BDSM
Other posts featuring slave-boy:
Slave-Boy Finally Deep-Throats
Masturbate for Me

A Toothed Blowjob
Pervertically Virtuous | July 20, 2013 at 10:55 am | Tags: blowjob, breathplay, latex, rebreathing, slaveboy | Categories: BDSM, Sex Stories | 

No comments:

Post a Comment

We welcome comments but hate SPAM. If you are a spammer we will not only delete you but actively report you as well.
We encourage frank robust discussion on all subjects within our blog but NO hate speech will be allowed. Again, we will actively report this.