My newest slave, penny, collected me at the time I’d stated. Monday morning, ready to drive me down from Lincoln to London for a stopover at a gorgeous hotel. He paid for the entire trip, naturally.
The hotel was beautiful, just as I like it and I was happy to be able to concentrate on relaxing there all Monday before a business meet the next day in London.
A refreshing mojito in the bar, along with a shared surf and turf platter (by shared, I mean I let slave eat the messy chicken wings I didn’t want) and I was ready to go back to the room for some fun before it was time for dinner. A pre-session warm-up, if you will.
Instructing him to strip down to thong and chastity device beneath, I got my weapons of choice ready. I’d brought plenty of equipment and particularly looked forward to using the sensory deprivation hood (albeit without phallus gag which a friend accidentally kept after borrowing the piece) as well as my long flogger and a strait jacket.
As it turned out, slave penny was disappointing as all slaves are to some degree. Luckily the disappointment was curtailed to not properly fitting in the straitjacket – he will have to go on a diet. Possibly have some ribs removed. The hood fit and well, even if he did say afterwards, when questioned, that it was tight around the neck. Good, I said. Get him used to an iron grip.
A light flogging before dinner and it was soon time for our delicious gourmet meal accompanied by some champagne. The views over the grounds were lovely, made even better by the setting sun over the far off views of the city.
I did laugh during the meal remembering what happened as we had been leaving the room to come to the hotel restaurant for dinner. The maid had knocked on the door, asking if we wanted the turn-down service. I’d said yes – completely forgetting she would be vanilla (my only censors these days seem to be kids, most everyone else I know in my life knows I am in the adult industry and fetish scene). The room was absolutely covered with bondage gear, punishment implements and sex toys, looking like a proper BDSM den. Her face – priceless. I wish I’d had a picture.
Anyway we finished our meals with some coffee and returned for more fun. A bottle of wine for the room, for me, and it was time for round two.
The evening flew by with an intense session of corporal punishment for penny, humiliation, foot worship and massage, chastity tease and more. Sometimes hooded, sometimes not. Sometimes cuffed wrists and ankles, sometimes not. When it came time for sleep (for me, anyway) he was hooded, cuffed (both) and given merely a pillow. Because I’m generous. As he lay on the floor in the now dark room I stripped next to his blind body. What else I did in the dark he’ll never know but can imagine… my last words to him before I slept was, “I’m now completely naked – so that will give you something to think about. Sweet dreams.”
I don’t think he slept a wink that night, on the carpet, hooded and bound, in the chastity device and red lace thong, next to where his Mistress slept soundly and nakedly in the comfortable double bed.