Heavy Gear

On the weekend, when it was really hot, John decided I needed a nice break from everything. He knew I was sad and a bit upset because of the conversation with my GP and thought I needed a reminder of my main purpose in life: pleasuring him. Putting on the heavy gear is always connected with some effort as the latex sticks to the skin easily. First of all, I always need to apply baby powder to all areas of my body. I usually do that in the shower as I can clean that quite easily afterwards.

The first layer consisted of a latex shirt, latex pants and a thin latex mask. The second layer was a latex catsuit, the third a thick latex bodice and a thick latex gas mask. I haven’t worn any heavy gear in the past few months and I had forgotten how tight it is! John made me lay down on the floor, on which he had placed a thick latex bondage sack and closed that thing around me with its strips and added some belts so my chest and legs. Eventually he screwed a sleeve on to my mask and reduced its opening to make sure I don’t get too much oxygen. And that was it.

While he was enjoying some icecream on the porch, I lay there in distress. It was hot and sweaty and due to that little oxygen I could get, I soon got very aroused, but could not do anything about it. Every now and then, Master returned to look after me and all I had to increase my horniness was his voice. It’s hard to describe how much he can turn me on my just talking to me. Apart from the fact that I like his voice, he is able to tell me the most degrading, bad things in such an enticing way… After a while I lost my sense of time. He removed the sleeve and made me suck his cock, but due to the mask I couldn’t swallow him and just suck on the tip. He fed me his semen and asked me whether I wanted something more to drink… I said yes and was lucky to have him piss into my mouth.

It’s strange, but being there again where I have been so often before, made me feel good in an instance. In the past months I’ve been where I haven’t really been before and being in that familiar situation helped me relax, big time! When he opened the gear to release my cock and began hammering it with a paddle, it felt so good! But he didn’t allow me to cum, he just laughed about my pathetic cock, then left me there. No relief, just frustration and heat and sweat.

I felt I must have been there more than an hour when he finally saw my erection had vanished and released me. I still was horny like hell, but he just told me to clean up (which means: having a shower and taking the thin latex clothes I wore on my skin with me to shower them, too), while he snuggled up on the porch again, reading. I was tempted to fap, but I did not. I know he doesn’t want me to unless he gives me permission. When I was done, I returned to him, naked, and he inspected my body. “On your knees, cunt. Brush that clit past the table, and if I like what I see, you might get to cum”. Oh dear… I know I like being humiliated, but humping furniture to cum is so bad and therefore so good…just like a stupid dog. He kept reading while I did the corner of the table, carefully avoiding to put my hands any near my cock. Occasionally, he look up and grinned, shook his head, then returned to his book. Humping furniture isn’t very helpful in terms of cumming, so I ask him permission to rub my tits. He nodded. That was better. I made it in no time, but when I asked for permission to cum, he just laughed, so I stopped. Started again. Got no permission. Started again. He kept me edging for a while and until the table was all besmeared with precum.

“Put that joke on the floor”, he then demanded. It’s not that simple, putting your cock on the floor, is it? When I had managed, he got up and stepped on it with his shoes on. He trampled and kicked it, moved his heel on my clit. Oh damn, that was so intense. And this time he allowed me to cum…but then, just when the orgasm started, he took away his foot and ruined it. I was so frustrated. “Complete useless”, he chuckled. “Clean up your mess, get into the device and get me something to eat, whore”. I did.

Welcome back to chastity…

For this week, he gave me a nice task: go and buy some ugly, degrading underwear from the granny’s section, wash and wear it. “You think you are cute? You are not. You are nothing but a pathetic dog-whore. You are trash.” Thank you, Sir, for reminding me of my place and duties.


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