As I walked back from the beach, feeling the sand between my freshly painted toes, I felt a equanimity overtake me. Outside noise receded as my internal soliloquy grew tatty, demanding action.

With firmness in my heart and mind, I quickened my pace, gear up to prepare my dungeon once more. Tonight would be delectable, yet simple, so long as my plaything was obedient. I got to work as soon as I brushed the lowest food grain of moxie from the arch of my foot and crossed the threshold to my domain.

-- -- --

minute later, I surveyed my work : The St. Andrew 's crossbreed had been coarsly sanded, the leather shackle inspected and oiled to keep back their suppleness. Long ago, I 'd attached the whole cross to a frame, all the better to pivot my specimen to my liking. I gave it a go and it glided smoothly about, reminding me of a gyroscope.

Everything was perfect, except for my kit. I hardly felt ready to utilise my strong consistency while wearing cutoff shorts and a white crop top. So, into my fetish loo I went ! My sub was in for a world of botheration that night, so I needed an getup that was aggressive and feminine, yet would n't confine my range of motion.

I had just the matter. I pulled out my favored sleeveless leather catsuit and carefully laid it on the bed, like a priceless heirloom. I prayed that I could one day guide it onto my daughter. She was already coming into her own as a dominant under my guidance, but would she choose the track of leather and PVC ? It was gruelling to say. She was too busy ballbusting to ask.

And I was too engaged to be ruminating this long ! With a playful swat to my own ass, I got my mind refocused and began stripping naked. As I peeled my panties down my thighs, I noticed how wet they were. I 'd felt the warmly slickness as I 'd worked, but ignored it like the distraction it was.

Looking at it now, though, it looked like a gag to me. I set them aside and got out the babe powder.

When thing are ridiculous, I laugh. Even when I 'm the butt of the joke. Standing in battlefront of my mirror with a feeding bottle of babe powder in one hand and a catsuit ( including ears and tail ) in the other, looking like I was preparing to go to fight had me bent over with amusement.

Once I got started, though, all humor left me. The deception of putting on a snug catsuit works admiration on my demeanor. The next time I looked in the mirror I felt beast and make to strike.

With a final exam kiss to my mirror image, I headed downstairs to greet my painslut.

He stood in stupor as I descended the staircase, drool pooling at the niche of his mouth.

'' Brett ! So lovely to see you again ! I trust you 've play along my didactics for training ? ``, I asked.

It was almost an laughable interrogative sentence, as my fiddling pet always followed instructions. But men are fallible and you never know when they 'll disappoint you in their hullabaloo to get what they want. So I waited for his response.

'' Yes, mistress. Shaved, scrubbed, fully void and blank intestine, no alcohol or drugs in my system, and the safeword is `` Jabroni '', '' he proudly responded.

Like a gyrate snake, I struck, backhanding him as hard as I could.

'' You do n't feel pride unless I tell you to. Understood ? ``, I spat at him, my hired hand around his throat. Without missing a heartbeat he affirmed that he comprehended and I released him.

'' Good. Now. Downstairs with you, slut. I have a fun eventide planned for myself and I 'm eager to get started. ``

-- -- -- --

He stood, leaping in position, ass out on the cross, au naturel, my scanty wedged between his molars. The axis of rotation of the hybridizing was locked into place, so I decided to show my pet my new surprise.

'' I 've been tinkering with my cross, though I doubt you noticed. Right now your cock is growing harder, pressing into the rough-cut Wood with no place to go ... and that simply will not do ! So I cut a hole and made a hinged door for it.

'' Before you get too excited, let me show you what I 'm going to use it for. ``, I whispered in his ear. I let my hand track across his jaw and then left his side of meat to open the hatch.

His dick was about 6 inches long, and pulled through the hole easily. I took a indorsement to stroke it gently through my leather-clad hands. This was the shoemaker's last moment free of pain it would be experiencing tonight.

With my activity completely obscured by the hybridization, I grabbed my field goal full of sterilized needles and got to work. I uncapped the first, giggling as I angled his cock upwards, towards the top of the fix it was coming through.

Once it was pressed up against the wood securely, I pressed the needle through the cutter soma of his cock caput and into the wood. Using my other bridge player, I grabbed a small-scale hammering and tapped the needle into the Sir Henry Wood as far as I could. It was rickety, but I had more.

The painslut was holding himself as still as possible as I added needle after acerate leaf to any frame I could find that would get hold of the crown of thorns.

I finished and sat back to admire my work. It truly was art. The picket soupiness of his cock, the red droplets of blood dripping to the storey ... it made me feel unhurt.

'' Try to rend your hips back, woman of the street. '' I needed to see it. He did as he was told, seeming to rend as hard as he could, but I 'd done well. Nothing budged and no area pulled hard enough to do permanent price.

With a final pat on his sensitive slam, I stood, walking around to look at his back.

It was perfectly healed from our last adventure, smooth and colorless like an almost-blank canvas. The only marks I 'd made so far appeared in the course of beading of sudor.

After so much pain, it was expected, and exciting to me. That moisture was going to give his whipping even worse and I was set up to call for every last scream. My mind 's eye swirled with vista of flayed flesh, blood curdling belly laugh, and pitious begging.

'' Shall we get started, then ? ''