micturobibulist on Collarspace

6/30/2013 1:28:38 PM

Planning for the big day on 6 June (which soon became known as "D Day" for obvious reasons) began in early May when we hit on the idea that we could solve many of the logistical problems surrounding getting together and playing really hard by hiring a dungeon for a few hours. And the need for some hard play began even earlier than that. We were chatting during the last (important) match of the 6 Nations. Mistress is Welsh, i'm English and so we had a jokey bet on the result. She'd give me 10 strokes of the flogger for every point Wales beat England by and i'd owe Her three orgasms for every point England scored. By the end of England's pitiful 30-3 drubbing i was due 270 lashes and She had 9 orgasms coming (do you see what i did there?) We've been together for more than 8 years now and one of the first things we agreed on was that it was ok that i wasn't into pain and that we'd not need to go there. We've come a long way since then and as my submission deepens, so does my desire to explore new things and suddenly i suggested that the 270 strokes shouldn't be just a jokey bet, they should be real. A bet's a bet and i should really be flogged. Mistress was delighted and apprehensive all at once but agreed that if we could find a time and place, it would happen. And so we did. Our days-off were booked, the dungeon was booked and all we had to do was wait. Actually, that's not quite all i had to do. For reasons i no longer recall i had decided to be hairless from the neck down - it seemed like the slavey thing to do - so a week before D Day i began shaving and depilating. i'm not a hairy person by any means, but it's surprising how much hair there is on even the neatest male body. Creams can only get you so far so there was plenty of shaving to do but for me that always means a rash and, though pleasingly hairless, i did manage to replace the masculine hair with a set of rather unappealing red spots. Still, more for Mistress to mock if She chose to and She was delighted by the thought and effort. i also managed to acquire some temporary tattoo paper and printed and applied my SLRN to my left breast (and as you can see from the pic, it really is a breast). This, too, met with approval. Finally, D-Day dawned. i put on my pink g-string (the present Mistress gave me when we first met) and my pink dog collar (the present i gave her as a token of intent that same day - if She chose to take me on, She could collar me with it, and it came back to me as my collar a few weeks later). i'd already packed a wash bag, Mistress's favourite suede flogger, our Lycra hood and Mr Bump (of whom more later) and i set off early to drive to Her house. i knocked and waited. She opened the door without a word. i couldn't look Her in the eye - it certainly wasn't that kind of day - but i hurried in and knelt in the hall. "Properly," She said, moving one foot slightly forward for me to kiss, so i bent lower and kissed Her boots in greeting. "Into the other room, strip to Your knickers and wait in the proper position." i stood to leave, grabbing my bag. "I don't recall saying You could walk." i flapped about a bit. Should i take the bag? i needed to crawl, that was certain. What...? She saved me by taking control in Her usual way. "Do you need your bag?" "No, Mistress." "Then leave it there and get on with it." i crawled through to the other room and undressed, carefully folding my clothes and placing them in neat piles. i even folded my socks. "The proper position" is kneeling, face to the floor, forearms on the floor with hands slightly in front of the head. i knelt and waited. It's a short drive but i was beginning to wish i'd been to the loo before i left. As time passed, i could hear Mistress in the other room, tutting at something on Her computer. i daren't move because once in the position i was supposed to stay there, but i began to ache. my knees were hurting, my weary old back was stiffening and my bladder was full. i really wished i'd thought to ask for permission to pee. After what seemed like at least an hour (but which i'm assured was less than five minutes), i heard the solid heels of Mistress's boots on the floor as She came towards me. "Take those filthy knickers off and get up here," She said, producing a nappy. i climbed into position to be nappied and quickly followed orders as She expertly taped me in to a large nappy. "You remember the rules for nappies?" She asked. "Wet within 30 minutes, Mistress," i said, hoping that there weren't more rules that i'd forgotten. She had me get down and back into position while She went back to what she was doing. Wetting it within 30 minutes wasn't going to be a problem and i began wetting myself before She'd even left the room. After an other age (another couple of minutes) i was summoned to the lounge where i checked the camera and the gear we were taking and then helped Mistress try on corsets. She eventually settled on an absolutely scrumptious body stocking which emphasised her stunning BBW body in all the right ways and then took me back through to get me out of the wet nappy. After some deliciously belittling mocking about how full it was, it was time to get dressed and set off for the dungeon with me demurely in the back seat. We allowed plenty of time to find somewhere to park and sat in the car chatting for a bit before making our way nervously to the address we'd been given. We rang the bell and the owner unlocked the door. We introduced ourselves and he led us to the small waiting room where i sat on the floor and Mistress sat on one of the comfy chairs. He offered us both coffee and Mistress smilingly accepted but declined on my behalf, saying she'd sort me out with a drink later. He returned in a few minutes with a cup and offered to show Her round, leaving me to sit on the floor and wait. i could hear them upstairs as he gave Her a tour of the facilities, pointing out items of interest. i could hear Her heels on the hard floor, and the sound of Her warm, charming voice, laughingly winning this stranger over and making me SO proud to be Hers. And then the doorbell rang. The owner unlocked and answered the door again and was greeted by a deliciously bubbly female voice which i assumed belonged to today?s House Domme. She breezed in and they chatted briefly before he asked Her if she wouldn?t mind popping upstairs and "Helping show the Young Lady round the equipment." i smiled at the casual friendliness ? he'd warmed to Mistress already and he'd only known Her a few minutes. Footsteps on the stairs, half-heard snatches of conversation, laughter, murmuring... and i sat patiently on the floor in the waiting room. After another forever, Mistress peeped playfully round the curtain and told me to bring the bag and come with Her. i was allowed to walk up the stairs and at the top i was sent to the right into one of the two playrooms. She sent me through to the small bathroom/changing room where i was told to strip to my panties, remove my spectacles and crawl back. i adopted my kneeling position. She gave me Her boots to kiss again and was inspected before being told to crawl through to the other room. This was it. The weeks of planning, talking, wondering, waiting... all over. i could still back out. I had my safeword, i could stop this any time, but deep inside i knew that i wasn't going to use it unless i felt i was actually in danger. i was going to take this, no matter what. She instructed me to crawl up onto the red whipping bench where i knelt/lay on comfortably padded red leather while She fastened the straps across my calves and back before looking for some wrist cuffs. She fastened these, too, and clipped them to eye bolts on the bench. Still time to say no. i heard Her moving round the room. She took something from the wall near me and came back round behind me. i was braced for my flogging, but what came next took me completely by surprise. She began to flog my feet with what felt like an iron chain (i later discovered it was a tiny leather flogger). Over and over, slapping at the soles of my feet, the pain was excruciating and more than anything i thought i could cope with... until She caught the toes on my left foot. No amount of wriggling could stop the pain. i couldn't speak, i couldn't breathe... and all that had happened was that She'd beaten my feet. She stopped and i could almost hear Her grin. i know how She grins when Her inner Sadist is about and i knew She'd be in Her own particular heaven after that. More pause, then She reached over me and took a pair of disposable gloves from the box by my head. i heard Her put them on and then open something else up. And then i felt a finger in my arse. Then two. "Relax," She ordered and slid them in deeper. And deeper. And wider. I'm sure i moaned in pleasure, or maybe gasped with pain, but this was an amazing feeling ? strapped down and penetrated. I'd say "finger fucked" but i later found out it was three fingers and almost a fourth ? nowhere near a fisting, but more than a mere fingering. Almost too soon She stopped, took off Her gloves with a snap and walked away again. When She returned She draped the soft suede tails of the flogger across my back, stroking me with it as she bent to whisper in my ear. i'd love to be able to report exactly what She said but subsequent sensations have blotted it out. i'm reasonably sure She told me exactly what was about to happen but i definitely remember the excitement, even in Her whisper, that told me just how much she was going to enjoy Herself. She handed me the tiny, soft Mr Bump toy that was to be my safe signal if i couldn't speak and i clutched him tightly in my hand. She began. Masochists yearn for pain, i'm told. Something about that intense overloading of their pain receptors elicits a sexual response and they can't get enough of it. To my eternal disappointment, i'm not a masochist. i always feel i'm missing out as a result, but no matter what i've tried, i just can't get off on hurting. But i learned something over the ensuing hour or so: i don't enjoy suffering, but i really enjoy being made to suffer. Does that make sense? It's not the pain that thrills me, it's submitting to being hurt to please Her. Mistress more or less switched off Her sadistic side when She met me but i knew it was still in there. i'd seen the devilish glint of lust in Her eye when She heard my gasps of pain as She twisted my nipples, sensed Her arousal ? She might be suppressing it, but i knew it was in there. And now She was letting it out. And it was agony. She built up a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks, thrashing my back, my thighs. The tails are soft but the ends sting. The sides of my buttocks were screaming and i was breathing hard. i'd tried not to count the strokes but at first i couldn't stop myself. It wasn't long, though, before i was so desperately sore that i couldn't count any more and it was a shock when, during one of Her regular pauses, She bent to whisper in my ear, "That was 70, pet, just 200 more to go." i don't really remember much more. There was pain, lots of pain. i gripped Mr Bump, terrified that i was going to drop him by accident. i gasped and writhed. i wondered how i was going to last until the end. During the pauses She scratched the reddening flesh of my back and arse with Her long nails. "170. Nearly there." i've never been to 'subspace', i don't think, but thinking about it now i must have been at least on the launchpad. The next 100 strokes passed in a blur of agonised gasps and clenched fists. "That's 270. Well done." She leant close and i kissed Her hand, thanking Her over and over again. "But I think a few more." She stood and rapidly delivered another 10 hard strokes. She'd been very controlled. None of the strokes had been as hard as i know She can hit but i've come to understand that it's not the absolute amount of pain that thrills Her, but knowing that Her slave is taking all it can. Suffering at the limits of my ability to cope was all She needed. And She got it. i thought it was all over but a fat, red arse was too much for Her to resist and there followed a series of open-handed slaps accompanied by deliciously delighted giggles. Eventually She was done and She bent down to hug me, kissing my face and whispering wonderful things in my ear. She stroked me some more as i lay there, before beginning to unstrap me. i couldn't move. She tried to help me to stand, gently encouraging me to leave the bench, but i was too wobbly. Eventually, clinging to Her like a child, i surrendered to Her hugs and let Her lead me across the room to the bed, where She sat as i knelt on the floor at Her feet, finding comfort and security in the kowtow i'd grown so rapidly used to. I kissed Her boots and thanked Her. And it wasn't just words, not just what i was expected to say as part of a game. I was profoundly grateful to Her for owning me and taking everything from me. "You must be thirsty, pet," She said at length. i replied that i was. "Come on, then, let's get you a drink," She said, clipping on my leash and leading me through to the other playroom. "In you get," She said lightly as we approached the toilet box, and i lifted the lid, removed the top half of the front panel and lay down with my neck in the semi-circular hole in the front panel and my head inside the box. She slid the panel back into place, trapping my head inside, and closed the lid, leaving me looking up through the large oval hole around which i knew was a toilet seat. There was a rustle as She lowered Her jeans and then i saw the deliciously familiar sight of Her sitting slowly down on the toilet seat above me. She was still wearing the body stocking but it had an opening for just such an occasion as this which framed Her perfect cunt. She sat for a while and i contemplated the beauty of the sight above me. Then the familiar parting of the lips and the first splash of piss. I darted my head to catch it, and swallowed immediately. Then another splash. Again caught and swallowed. Then a steady, hissing stream. i allowed it to fill my mouth, knowing how much She enjoys that "filling a cup" sound, but the temptation to swallow again was too great and so i closed my mouth to gulp. It forced some of the piss out of my mouth to join the still-strong stream coming from Her and i felt it splash into the plastic pan under my head, soaking my hair. Mouth open again to take more. Too soon, it was over and i lifted my head to lick the last drops from Her before She stood up. She pulled up Her jeans and went to the whipping bench to get Her camera, taking several pics of me lying contentedly in the place where i feel most comfortable. i loved submitting to the pain, but my first fetish love will always be toilet slavery. She leant on the bench and said, "Better?" i assured Her that i was delighted. "Have you got any spare cash with you?" She asked, seemingly randomly. i explained where it was and She chuckled, disappearing into the changing room and then walking out of the playroom and down the stairs. There was a murmured conversation, then She returned and leant against the bench again. Heels on the stairs. The bubbly female voice i'd heard earlier gave Mistress a cheerful hello and they began to discuss me as though i weren't there. There were comments about my shaved body, laughter at the pink panties with the very obvious pre-cum stain and then some prodding with some sort of stick (a cane from the rack, it turns out). Mistress told Her what She'd just done in the other room ("I know ? we could hear it. It sounded like quite a beating."). Apparently She raised Her eyebrows, impressed, when Mistress told Her how many i'd taken. Then Mistress told Her about my training as a full toilet slave. "He even takes shit," She said, proudly. "Have You done that here?" No, Mistress said, but She had done many times in the past. Again, i'm told there was a look of impressed intrigue on the unseen face. "I need to go myself," said the Voice. "May I?" Mistress said it would make my day and i finally saw the beautiful face of the stranger looking down at me through the toilet seat. "He looks too keen," She said, with a laugh. "He's a very eager toilet slave," was Mistress's chuckling reply and they laughed together as the House Domme lowered Her knickers and squatted over me. In the gloom and without my spectacles, i could see nothing but a dark shape above me. i knew it was a naked cunt but it wasn't until, after another long pause, the first jet of piss caught me on the forehead that i could say for sure that that's what it was. She shuffled forwards a little and adjusted Her aim and the second jet caught me in the open mouth. Once again i drank what i could and let the rest splash round my head. It occurred to me later, when we were decompressing and chatting about how wonderful the day had been, that i had had a cup of coffee before i left home and a drink of water when i arrived back home in the evening, but that in between i had consumed nothing but the piss of two beautiful Ladies, one of whom was a complete stranger. The House Domme and Mistress thanked each other and the heels clicked out of the room with the assurance that She'd be happy to oblige again if Mistress wanted Her to. i lay there in the puddle of piss for a few more moments before Mistress opened up the box and invited me to get out. She told me where the shower was and i grabbed my wash bag and towel and made my way downstairs. i'd not been shown where the light switch was for the bathroom so i was fumbling around naked when the House Domme poked her head round the curtain and cheerfully offered to put the light on for me. i thanked Her and took my shower. Piss-free, naked and slowly drying, i returned to the playroom. Mistress reattached the wrist cuffs i'd been wearing and pushed me towards the X-frame. Wrists clipped up high. It turned out i was too fat for the waist strap so the attached ankle cuffs were next, securing me - spread wide - to the cross. She pulled the Lycra hood over my head, blocking out the remaining light and leaving only my mouth exposed. She pressed Herself against me, kissing me deeply as Her fingers found, pinched and twisted my nipple. I've said here several times already that i don't like pain, but there's something about nipple pain that i do actually love. i could feel the tiny winkle stiffening as She went to work on the other one. The pain was intense and i was gasping between kisses, pulling on the wrist straps and tensing with the agony. More twisting, more pain, more deep, passionate kisses as my hips began to jerk involuntarily, fucking thin air. She stopped and stepped away. i could hear Her rummaging in a box and then stepping back towards me. Sharp pain in both nipples. And then in the winkle. Clips of some kind (clothes pegs, i later found out). And more twisting. More kissing. Sharp, agonising pain over my body, passionate arousal in my head. The perfect headfuck. My feet were slipping, i was gasping and grunting and then suddenly She removed all the clips to fresh, sharp blasts of pain, and took me down. More hugs, more grovelling. i'd like to give more details, but my mind was liquefying by this point. i was led once more through to the other room and invited to get into the small cage. She padlocked me in and went off to explore the toys again while i calmed down in the reassuring security of my tiny prison. She took another couple of photos of me there ("You looked so peaceful and contented") before letting me out again and leading me back to the other room. i confess by this time i had no idea which room was which nor what either contained, but thinking it through, i was back in the room with the X-frame and the toilet box we'd used (both rooms had a toilet box and a whipping bench, by the way, in case you're as confused as i was). In one corner of the room was a steel bed with a throne above it with a head-hole in the seat. A worship throne. But Mistress had other ideas for it. Having secured me on my back with my head held still by the seat, she pulled back my foreskin and produced a candle and a lighter. She then spent the next 10 minutes gleefully dripping scalding hot wax onto the winkle. Each drip made me flinch with its uncomfortable spike of pain but she built up a coating that pleased Her before finally declaring that She was satisfied with Her work and unstrapping me for the last time. The House Domme popped Her head round the curtain again once we were properly dressed and we assured Her that the rooms were Hers once more and that we were on our way. With a grin, Mistress offered Her a tip (using my money) and we both thanked Her again for helping out. The day was done. We said our grateful goodbyes and assured the owner that we'd be back as soon as we could, then we made our way back to the car holding hands.