latex outfit and hood using slave as human foot stool

In the dungeon room a naked woman is bound to the St. Andrew’s Cross, while a man, at some paces behind her, cracks lashes against her back. The woman’s cries fill up the space and carry far down the hallway. Lady Valeska has me kneeling to the side of them, so that i may observe, learn and anticipate. my Mistress reclines behind me—a stunning presence. Her upper body is fully encased in black, radiant latex, Her face hidden behind a gorgeously sleek mask. Her black thigh-highs are stretched out commandingly before her. The room’s electricity, meanwhile, vibrates against my own full-latex skin; the ball gag in my mouth is much larger than i am used to.  

The man, who is shirtless and wearing a kilt, communicates constantly with the woman in between strikes of the lash. There is a cord of tenderness between them. Her cries ascend still more loudly and his strokes seem unbearably hard up this close—harder, maybe, than i think i have bargained for. But she is far more experienced than me. The man moves in close to caress his partner softly, smoothing over the marks and touching her face. She melts at his touch and looks up at him. It’s a kind of intimacy i haven’t witnessed before.   

On this blizzarding Sunday evening, Lady Valeska has requested my company at After Dark, a regular fetish night at Oasis Aqualounge. It is my first time at a sex club, my first time in public in full latex, and my first time experiencing the privilege of devoutly serving my Mistress before others.   

Lady Valeska leads me by the leash over to the large padded bench on the other side of the room and orders me to lie on my stomach. Gracefully, She slides the full length of her body on top of me and i take the firmness of her weight. She shifts and wriggles against me, my latex pulled still tighter and as it rubs warmly against Hers. She forces the air out of my body. i take in a deep whiff of Her scent, mixed in with latex, while She is so close.  

Lady Valeska orders me bent forward on the bench, feet now on floor. A small crowd is watching as She begins fondling my ass in preparation for a beating. Then the slaps come, each stroke a grade harder than the last. As it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed impact play while dressed in full latex, i quickly learn how this second skin dulls too much of the sting’s sweetness. And while it hurts just enough i wish it would hurt more. i would plead so if not for the ball gag secure in my mouth. Instead, i nod my head vigorously and lean my ass closer into Her blows, as though to signal my desire. Lady Valeska pauses to unzip the crotch of my leggings so my still-wilted penis dangles for everyone to see. One of my cock rings falls off and clangs against the floor, ringing above the din like the struck bell in a Buddhist temple. Lady Valeska now turns to punches, a hard pounding that reverberates deep into the muscle tissue. i feel anointed. 

Before delivering one last flurry of very satisfying punches, Lady V stops for a moment and tells me how good my ass looks in latex. my heart swoons. It is the only compliment She will find me worthy of all evening.

i am kneeling before Lady V with my cock out while She sits at a barstool and converses with others. But i am only occasionally aware of the people now filling the room, so fixated i am at Her presence. From the floor i admire the shine and silhouette of her beautiful boots. Though She has ordered me to keep looking down, my eyes can’t help but travel upward, to the tattoo on Her right thigh. The tattoo is a map of the world. i find myself wondering at what places my Mistress has been, so lost in thought and admiration that i almost forget the gag in my mouth.  

It’s while lost in such a futile attempt at penetrating Her mystery that She reaches down, generously, to gently, and pleasingly, tug at my hair.  

She orders me upright, facing her, and begins toying with my cock. Tugging on its shaft with Her latex gloves; then fits of slapping. She grabs the skin above my balls and pulls down hard, harder than She has done before. My cock stiffens and She slaps it back. “Oh, are you moaning in there?” She asks. Through the ball gag, i moan louder. Punishing my cock and observing its response seems to please Her.  

 

Lady Valeska arranges for a photograph to be taken of the two of Us/us. Unfortunately, in the moody, red-lit room on Oasis’s third floor, where She would prefer our picture be taken, there is already a couple on top of each other fucking.  

Instead, She leads me to the barroom next door. Lady Valeska composes Herself, alluringly, on a lounge chair then positions me on the floor as her footstool. She casually holds my leash in her hand. A friend takes Our/our photo. So focused on being Her footstool, Her ornament, so completely absorbed in this closeness to Her, i have no sense of how the photo is even being framed. Only later, when the picture is posted to Instagram, do i have the pleasure of seeing: Lady Valeska gazing up over her left shoulder at the camera—all attention concentrated on Her sublime hazel eyes, Her red lips, their shapeliness and colour accentuated by Her boss latex mask.   

Back in the first-floor barroom, Lady Valeska leans back on the sofa and commands me to remove Her boots, so that I may massage Her feet. i oblige gratefully. i relish the feel of Her stockings, and the mere thought of the skin beneath them, as i attentively work at Her toes, Her arches, Her ankles.  

She orders me flat on the floor in front of Her, my penis exposed for the room. Again She chooses to abuse my cock, this time with her feet. She kicks at my balls, squeezes my shaft between Her stockings. She applies pressure downward with the balls of Her feet. Again, She studies my cock’s response, imperiously, as though it were nothing more than research.  

Lady Valeska decides She is done with me. She removes the ball gag from my mouth and I breathe in deeply, suddenly conscious of the people crowded around. i try to regain myself but it feels like i have sunken into a cloud.   

-cf

 

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