Thursday, October 28, 2010

Goddess Omi (Story)

Goddess Omi

The phone rang… once, twice and then a third time.

"Hello, Studio," the voice on the other end answered.

There was a dead silence.

"Hello, STUDIO," the voice repeated with a hint of friendly seduction mixed with a mild inflection of annoyance in its tone. "Can I help you?"

"Ummm… yes. My name is Michael and I would like to see one of your Mistresses."

The receptionist replied with the usual list of questions. "Have you been here before, Michael," She asked.

"No, Ma'am," came the surprisingly polite reply. "I have never actually seen a Mistress before, but I think I need to be punished. Is there a Mistress at your dungeon who would be willing to punish me?"

Normally, a receptionist wouldn't engage in excessive details regarding a client's fantasy due to the risk of the caller being able to satisfy himself with the verbal exchange alone. But the reception's curiosity was peaked, and She had an instinctual feeling that Michael's need to be punished was genuine and that his desire to see a Mistress in person was entirely real.

"Why don't you tell me a little about your desire to be punished," the receptionist gently encouraged, trying to gauge the extent of his fantasy. "This way we will be able to determine who you would be most compatible with during a session."

There was a nervous silence on the other end of the line.

"Michael..," was the stern reply that met the silence. "I am going to need you to explain your situation to me so that I can fit you with the most suitable Mistress."

Michael hesitated for just a second longer and then began to blurt out the blurry details of his unfortunate circumstance. "Well," he began, "I am kind of in trouble with my wife. I've tried traditional therapy, but I can't control my impulses to gamble. I have lost a lot of money this past month and my wife is fed up with my inability to control my urges. She told me if I can't find a way to fix this problem that she would consider a separation."

This was all the receptionist need to hear. She stopped Michael from any further explanation and told him to save the remainder of his story for the Mistress that he would be seeing to fulfill his desire to be punished. "It seems you have a very serious situation on your hands, Michael. I would agree that punishment might be beneficial to you, perhaps some behavior modification since "traditional therapy" has not seemed to work for you. Now, how did you find us Michael?" she asked him cooly.

"I found the NYC Rubber Studio website and was captivated by all the beautiful house Mistresses, as well as the ones listed as independent and visiting. It seems like many of your Mistresses are stern."

"This is correct, Michael," the receptionist reassured him. "All of the Mistresses here at our Studio are quite capable of administering corporal punishment, ranging from sensual spankings to severe canings and whippings. I'm sorry to say it, Michael, but from the looks of things it seems you need a more serious session. Now, did any of the Mistresses on our site, in particular, capture your interest?"

"Well," Michael started in his polite tone, "Everyone is exceptionally beautiful, but I will admit that Goddess Omi really struck my eye. Her image is very captivating."

The receptionist agreed. "Well, Michael, you seem to be in luck. Goddess Omi actually very much enjoys administering corporal punishment. She is very adept at role-play sessions, but She especially relishes the opportunity to administer a proper punishment for real life infractions, particularly to naughty little boys who can't control their impulses. I hope for your sake that gambling is your only vice."

"Yes, Ma'am," Michael meekly responded.

"If you are really looking to be punished Michael, Goddess Omi would be more than happy to oblige you, and I have every confidence that She can help you achieve your desired results. Are you sure you are ready for this?"

The silence returned, and a sort of labored breathing that resembled panic could be heard on Michael's end of the line. The receptionist gave him a moment to collect himself and his thoughts as the potential reality settled in his brain. "Yes, I'm ready," he finally uttered, although the hesitation in his voice was still quite evident."

"Good," the receptionist encouraged, "I think the sooner we get you in here, the better. What is your availability?" she asked.

"Anytime," Michael responded without really thinking about it.

"Great. Goddess Omi has an opening at 8:00 tonight. Can you make it?"

"Yes, I can make it," Michael half whispered, his voice shaky and barely audible.

"When you arrive in midtown, you are to call and I will give you instructions on how to proceed."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."

Michael thought about the session all day. Only 9 hours before he would have his very first session with a Dominatrix, and his stomach was feeling uneasy. He couldn't believe he had let his situation get to this point, where he had to seek out punishment in order to keep his marriage intact, and his wife didn't mind it. She advocated it and even wrote a letter to Goddess Omi that he was instructed to present to Her upon arrival. The hours dragged by as Michael sat at his desk, working the late hours to compensate for the money he had pissed away gambling. And then the clock struck 8:30. Time to close up shop and be on his way. He took a taxi and called the dungeon exactly 5 minutes prior to his arrival. When he arrived in the general area, the receptionist gave him directions and he gingerly walked several blocks with knots in his stomach as he anticipated his fate. When it was time to ring the buzzer, he almost couldn't bring his finger to extend to the button. When he finally did, he was immediately let in and made his way up to the 2nd floor, where he was politely greeted by the receptionist he had spoken to earlier and then guided into the middle room where he was told to await his Mistress after handing over his tribute. The only money he was now allotted from his wife was that which he could hand over to his Mistress so that She could properly punish him. If the money did not enter Her hands and he spent it gambling, their marriage was pretty much over and Michael did not want to risk that.

When the door closed, Michael surveyed his surroundings. The room was very spacious and simultaneously comforting and intimidating, an odd mix, but one that is exactly the kind of atmosphere an upscale dungeon is supposed to create. Before he had the chance to soak it all in, Goddess Omi had knocked on the door, and turned the knob before he had a chance to consider what was happening. When She walked in the room, he almost melted from how beautiful She looked, and he almost cried from the look of severity She wore on Her face.

"Michael," She said, in a tone so stern it was frightening. "Do not just stand there. I want you to drop to your knees and explain yourself. I have heard from our receptionist that you have been a very naughty boy and that your behavior is actually jeopardizing your marriage. Is this true?"

Michael immediately obeyed, fell to his knees and looked up at Goddess Omi in awe and wonder, tears in his eyes from the combination of his misdeeds and the fact that She was so beautiful it was taking his breath away. She wore that blue latex dress that She could be seen in on the NYC Rubber Studio website. Her hair fell to Her shoulders and Her eyes were large and brown and gazing down at him with little sympathy. "Tell me your situation, Michael," Goddess Omi demanded.

Michael found it difficult to speak, and began fumbling through his pockets for the letter his wife gave him to present to the Goddess. Goddess Omi watched him curiously as he unwrinkled the letter that was crumpled in his pocket and handed it to Her. "Interesting," She said as She began reading. Every now and then She would let out a sigh or a "tsk," as She read further into the letter. He little sounds of reproach made him dizzy. "This is very bad, Michael," She told him, as he quivered on his knees before Her. "I am glad you have submitted to the fact that you need to be punished and that you are compliant with your wife's demands. "

"I'm sorry," Michael nearly cried out in repentance.

Goddess Omi was unmoved by his emotion that was clearly rising to the surface. "Well," She said, "I am sure you are sorry that you got yourself into this situation, but you are going to be much sorrier once I am through with you. Now you have one opportunity to leave and go back to your bad behaviors and lose your wife. Or you can stay and submit to my punishment entirely. You are really going to be punished, however, if you decide to stay. I will not use safe words, I will not honor your cries or pleas for me to stop. I will not waver in my discipline despite your outbursts of sincere apologies. Your behavior has been unacceptable and when I have to punish someone and role-play isn't involved, there is no mercy. I will punish you until you are broken and SINCERELY repentant, and I will enjoy doing it. It's what you need and you know it. I am going to give you exactly two minutes to make your decision. If you agree to submit and stay then when I return you will be on your knees with your clothes off waiting for My discipline. If you chose to leave, you can remain clothed and I will show you out the door with a little note of My own to your poor wife. Make the right decision, Michael, your marriage depends on it," She instructed as She gently closed the door behind Her.

Michael had now begun to panic, not realizing Goddess Omi was a lifestyle disciplinarian who was able to extend the limits of a session beyond a role play scenario. He didn't want to lose his wife, but he didn't exactly want to be beaten, either, which was pretty much what he was expecting if decided to stay. But Goddess Omi's words rung in his head, "your marriage depends on it." And so he sucked in a deep breath, neatly removed and folded his clothing and was waiting on his knees with only a second to spare before Goddess Omi reentered the room.

She looked down at his trembling body, "First intelligent decision it seems you've made in a long time, Michael," She told him. When She entered he was so blinded by his fear that he hadn't noticed that She was carrying an array of paddles and whips in both Her hands. She saw him glance at them and then divert his eyes in a panic. "What's wrong, Michael," She asked with a hint of sarcasm in Her voice, "Are you finally realizing what you've gotten yourself into?"

Michael nodded as Goddess Omi placed the implements on the bondage bed, and took a seat on the Mistress throne in the corner of the room. "Crawl over here, Michael," She demanded. He obeyed instantly, terrified to hesitate despite his instinct not to move. Once he had reached her feet, She grabbed a fistful of his ashy blonde hair and forcefully guided him across Her lap. Although Her frame is petite, She was able to securely fasten him over Her lap. "Michael," She said sternly, "We are going to start off slowly because you have never seen a Mistress or even been spanked before, but I want you to know that by the end of this session your wife doesn't want to be able to see you sit comfortably for the next week. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes," Michael whimpered, completely humiliated that he was actually over a woman's knee as if he were a five year old.

Without warning a loud resounding sound echoed through the room and was accompanied by a sharp pain on his right buttock. Michael winced.

"We have protocol here, Michael," Goddess Omi scolded with another slap to emphasize Her point. "You will address Me as Mistress EVERY single time you are permitted to speak to Me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," Michael responded obediently and even politely offered an apology for his mistake.

"Good boy," Goddess Omi rewarded as She administered a series of hand spanks that soon had his bottom a glowing shade of pink. Goddess Omi enjoyed the way Her hand prints were showing up on his white bottom, crisscrossing in all directions and almost looking like art. She continued to spank him until his ass was entirely red and Her hand prints were not longer discernable. It was obvious Michael had a very low tolerance for pain and he was squirming and whimpering the entire time, even resorting to pleading and all She was using was Her hand. Goddess Omi laughed. "This is only My hand, sweetie," She said with a hint of seduction and sadism. "Now get off of My lap," She demanded as She thrust Her hips so that he would lose his balance over Her knee and fall to the floor. "Now the real punishment begins."

Michael sucked in a huge gulp of air, unaware of how to cope with the humiliation he was being forced to endure alongside the pain that left his bottom burning from just a hand spanking. Goddess Omi didn't give him any extra time to contemplate his predicament as She guided him over to the cross and securely fastened both his hands and feet to the top and bottom so that he couldn't move. "Please, no," Michael begged, "I really am sorry. I will learn to control my impulses, I promise. Please, Mistress," he pleaded desperately.

"Too late for that, Michael," She scolded. I told you I don't respond to pleading when I am administering a serious punishment." She walked over to him and turned his face sideways with Her hand so that he could meet Her stern gaze. He almost melted from the look in Her eyes. "Look at My face Michael," She demanded. "Does it look like I'm playing?"

"No Mistress," he responded. His response was met with his face being forcibly rotated back towards the front of the cross. Before he realized what was happening, he felt a series of strikes landing across his bottom, and he knew that he was being whipped, but he did not know what he was being whipped with. All that filled his brain was the horrible pain of sharp lashes descending upon his blazing flesh. Poor Michael really did have a pathetic tolerance and he was on the verge of screaming when Goddess Omi threatened him with a gag.

"This is your first lesson in impulse control," She coolly informed him. "You will NOT scream. If you do, you will receive 100 strokes of the cane. So far I am going to give you 30. They will be extremely hard so that you understand what a punishment caning feels like. And if you scream, that will only tell Me that you can't obey My directions, that you can't control your impulses and that you must really want to be beaten mercilessly. Do I make Myself clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," Michael uttered beneath clenched teeth as he desperately tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

"This is for your own good, Michael," Goddess Omi told him. "I am saving your marriage right now." With that, a stroke of the cane landed across both cheeks and Michael literally jumped despite being bound. The pain was so intense that a scream could not be uttered because his body went into shock.

"I knew you weren't going to scream from the first one, " Goddess Omi acknowledged, "because your body doesn't know how to respond. The next 29 are going to make you want to scream," She informed him with all sincerity, and possibly throw up. You won't be able to sit for a week. But if you can't control the impulse to scream you will get 100 ofMy hardest and then you won't be able to sit for a month. All of these decisions are yours Michael, just like the decision to gamble away your money and risk your marriage. Now don't scream," She commanded as She landed another strike.

Michael, desperate to be obedient for numerous reasons, did not scream. But by the 30th stroke, his body was a trembling mess and the tears were pouring down his red face. Goddess Omi examined his backside and admired Her handiwork. Michael had some severe welts that would be with him for at least the next week. Goddess Omi walked over to him and released him from his bondage, whereupon he instantly fell at Her feet, sobbing from the release and the guilt and the desire to repair his marriage. She gently soothed him, rubbing Her fingers through his hair and caressing his scalp with Her nails as He sobbed. "It's okay, Michael," She whispered sweetly, "You are allowed to cry. You did a good job today and you proved something to both Me and yourself, and also to your wife and I am going to send home a good report for you. Your wife is sending you back here in two weeks for a progress check. I hope that you are going to behave so that I don't have to punish you so severely, or worse… and if you do behave and make us proud, I can promise you a nice little reward for good behavior. I am a fair Mistress, and that is why I had to punish you this way. But I am very impressed with your desire to remedy your behavior and take direction from Me and with your willingness to suffer because you love your wife so much."

"Thank you, Mistress," Michael replied between broken sobs.

"You are welcome Michael. Now I will give you a few moments to collect yourself and then we will schedule your appointment in two weeks. By that time your wounds should be healed, and I don't want a reason to recreate them. I am going to go write your wife a little note and I will be back to escort you out."

She stroked his face gently and smiled at him. Her beauty and the new found gentleness immediately eased his discomfort. He struggled to put his pants on, but he felt as if a great burden were released and he was very grateful to Goddess Omi for Her assistance. He was determined to be on his best behavior because his mind was racing with the thought of what reward She might give him in two weeks if his wife had sent him to his next session with a good report.

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Friday, October 22, 2010

Lady Audra gets Her revenge (story)

Lady Audra gets Her revenge
The clock was ticking. Lady Audra sat patiently in the foyer tapping her fingers against Her fishnet clad thigh. slave was late. slave is not allowed a name because he is not properly trained and has not earned one. Until he has learned his proper place in a Mistress' world, he will be referred to simply as slave. Perhaps today would be the day when slave would be taught some manners, like how to show up for a session on time and not keep his Mistress waiting while She was donning 6 inch heels for their session.
slave at least had the good sense to make a call so that Lady Audra would know he was running behind. He had to grab some water, he said, and the line at the grocery store was long. And then he couldn't pass up the chance to go to the convenience store on the way and pick up a couple of power-ball tickets. As Lady Audra listened to the excuses, Her chestnut eyes started to flicker with an ember trace of fury.
However, rather than scold him over the phone or even raise Her voice a couple of notches, She decided She would wait until he arrived before She gave him a lesson in proper slave etiquette. Sure, Lady Audra could have simply dismissed this client for his audacity in thinking he could make his own schedule. But She had no other engagements and decided to use this opportunity to administer a much needed lesson. She was encouraged by the other Mistresses at the Studio to give him a proper beating for his boldness.
She didn't say a word when he finally arrived, but kindly escorted him to the proper chambers for punishment. Lady Audra was annoyed when She had to remind slave to hand over the tribute. Many slaves feel entitled to their Mistress' time and this one was no exception. It was necessary to make an example of him.
"Undress by the time I return," Audra demanded as She left the room to give him time to prepare. Naturally, there was no answer. No, "Yes, Mistress," or "As You say Goddess," just a silence that Lady Audra swore to break with slaves pathetic pleas for mercy once She got back into that room and got Her hands on him.
When Lady Audra returned, She expected to see slave on his knees. So much for high expectations. She found him sitting on the bondage bed with his erect appendage as if he had the privilege to be in such a predicament. This caused Lady Audra to lose Her temper, She grabbed slave by the right ear without saying so much as a word and forced him to the floor by practically flinging him off the table.
"Owww…' slave yelped pathetically as his knees hit the hardwood floors.
"Shut up," Audra demanded. "How dare you treat a Mistress this way?" she questioned him, but rather than wait for some lame excuse to come from his mouth, She decided She would rather hear the sound of Her own hand slapping his face. So She smacked him hard across his left cheek, Her perfectly manicured nails ever so slightly grazing him.
slave was not prepared and little beads of sweat started to form on his brow in eager anticipation of the fate that awaited him.
"What is that?" Lady Audra questioned once he regained his composure. She pointed to his hardened member and informed him it was offending Her.
"I'm sorry Mistress," he began, finally starting to realize his place beneath Her feet. "It's just that You are so beautiful and I can't help getting excited. I can't control it."
"Not a problem," replied Lady Audra as She examined Herself in the mirror. "I agree I am quite stunning." She admired Her black and purple corset and Her perfectly applied makeup, then turned Her attention back to slave. "However, that's not an excuse for a pathetic worm like yourself to point at Me with your "manhood." Mistresses have remedies for such things. Let me show you." With that Audra walked over to slave, who was still on his knees, and kicked him squarely in the balls with such force that he keeled over. "That should shrink you down a bit, bitch" She cackled.
Lady Audra ordered him to rise, but slave was having a difficult time. She had to assist him by lifting him to his feet by a fistful of his hair while guiding him over to the punishment cross. "you've got a lesson to learn, slave," She told him as She secured his hands and feet to the instrument with the back of his body facing Her, perfectly pink and exposed flesh that just begged to be marked. "you fall very short when it comes to knowing how to respect and please a Mistress," Audra admonished. "It's My duty to see to it that you are properly trained. I think some old fashioned English discipline is in order since you have about as much sense as a silly schoolboy."
slave started to protest but Lady Audra gagged him to spare herself his pathetic whimpers. She would not be persuaded by apologies or excuses. She was intent on delivering a caning and She had a variety of implements at Her disposal. The first She choose was a thin and flexible rod and She wound up Her arm like She was about to swing a bat (only much more gracefully) and delivered 20 consecutive lashes upon her groveling victim who yelped beneath his rubber gag each time the cane landed on his trembling buttocks. The welts rose instantly from the force of the strikes, the last one even broke the skin in one spot leaving a little spatter of blood. This made Audra angry as She now had to dispose of the cane and apply alcohol to his backside to prevent infection.
A paddling was in order. Lady Audra stepped out for a moment, mocking slave by telling him not to move and then chuckling when reminding him he literally couldn't because he was bound to the cross. In the hallway hung several glass display cases that housed paddles and whips used in punishment sessions. Lady Audra opened the case and chose a large wooden paddle with holes and proceeded to return to slave and paddle his backside raw. There is no room for mercy with slaves who have no iota of respect for their Dominants. Only torture and deprivation can cure a slave of such poor habits.
The torture part was over as Audra had blistered slave raw, hitting him so hard her arm ached and so hard that he was still squealing beneath the gag long after She had stopped the beating. 45 minutes had just about passed when Lady Audra removed the gag and released slave, setting him to lie down on the floor on some clean pads. slave's appendage was still noticeable but not quite as pokey as it was before. Lady Audra decided to use this to Her advantage as She took out the Venus and applied it to his aching cock. She teased him to the point of near release, his pleasure had overtaken him and he almost forgot the marks on his ass as the Venus worked its magic. However, the magic suddenly died with the simple click of a button as Audra shut it off. slave cried out pathetically, "Oh, please no, Goddess, Mistress…"
"Shut up," Lady Audra said, slapping his balls with the palm of Her hand. "No one wants to hear you." slave was writing in his own agony and begging and was on the literal verge of tears. Lady Audra had no sympathy for his plight but She did have an agenda. She quickly secured him in a chastity device while She had him in that predicament and put the keys on her chain. She kicked the device after applying it, took the lottery ticket out of his wallet and claimed it as Her own (compensation for having to deal with his pathetic nature should the ticket be a winner) and bid him farewell.
"I'll see you next Tuesday at 1:00" She informed him. She surveyed his condition before allowing him to put his clothes back on and thought to Herself it must be quite uncomfortable to be locked up with no chance of release. She mocked him sadistically as She pointed to his tortured and confined penis. "I'm sure you won't be late next time."

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Dollhouse (story)

The Dollhouse
She could have been my twin. Her frame was more willowy and her curves more pronounced than my tight, muscular physique; but otherwise we stood before each other like mirrored images. Her dark hair reached down far below her shoulders, hanging in full waves, and she stood slightly pigeon-toed in her white sun-dress – her nipples clearly visible in the air-conditioning. We differed in our gaze: mine cool and steady, hers nervous and adoring. I knew her.
I remembered her from a philosophy course I’d taken in college. The class was almost pure folly, populated by underclassmen with little to no understanding of or appreciation for rational thinking. She’d stood out not as an intellectual in the class, but had instead gotten my attention for her striking beauty and tendency to smile with the same consistency and fervor with which I do not. We’d conducted class outside one day, taking advantage of our liberal classroom etiquette and the beauty of the weather that day. We circled ourselves under a tree to discuss Augustine and this girl had positioned herself across from me – through accident, I was sure – and in her summer dress had decided to sit with her knees up, her dress carefully covering her knees, but her purple thong betraying her splits where her thighs met – her whole privacy framed by the hem of her cotton dress. I’d assumed she was either painfully unaware of her exposure, or was aiming her distaste directly at our professor, who was young and male and attractive. Two weeks later, at the celebration after the final day of classes, she’d run up to me as I sat with a group of my girlfriends and told me that she’d had a crush on me in our class. I shrugged it off with a kind of disinterest in her earnestness, saying something like, “oh, you have a girl-crush on me? That’s sweet.” My vanilla friend had told me that my response was “cold,” as she believed this young thing’s confession to have been a sincere one. I didn’t see her again after that.
Now she stood here in front of me, still in her sun dress like some fantasy of Humbert Humbert manifested years after the initial infatuation. How interesting. I stepped inside the room and closed the door behind me. Dom Ariana had not said a word to me about my client being a young girl; was this a joke? I kept my gaze locked on her and she began to quiver slightly, goose bumps rising up on her arms and thighs. She was rather exquisite in this state.
“What a beautiful little doll,” I said and she smiled.
“I looked for you for a long time,” she stammered, almost giddy. “I didn’t know if you’d remember me, but I wanted to see you and… I don’t know.” She fell silent. I kept my eyes on her as I began to pace in a tight circle around her, gathering her image like a tongue around an ice-cream cone.
“I’m not really interested in your story,” I whispered. Her body stiffened, her breath stopped. “Take off your dress,” I said.
She obliged, the goose bumps spreading all over her porcelain skin, her knees knocking inward in a half-attempt at hiding her nakedness. “What have you come for?” I asked, coming to a stop just behind her shoulder. “For you,” she said, almost at a whisper, “because… I don’t know.” I moved around to face her again. “You said that already,” I snapped. “What do you know?”
She stayed silent for a long moment, her fingers curling and uncurling in her discomfort. “I…” she stopped again and then, in a slightly assured voice she continued, “I just want to experience you; however you want to experience me.”
“How convenient,” I teased, “I love experiencing little girls on my own terms.” I ran my index finger down the center of her body and dug my knuckle into the soft lips of her sex, which parted to reveal a tiny metal ring, piercing right through her clitoris. I ground my knuckle into it for a few rotations and she let out a groan. I turned and walked over to a set of cabinets on the far side of the room. Inside the clear plastic tackle-boxes was an array of nipple clamps, clothes pins, miniature vices, etc. I selected a few miniature clothes-pins in vibrant purple and grabbed a length of hemp string before returning to my little doll.
I wound the hemp string around the crotch of one clothes pin and pinched her right nipple before clamping the purple mouth on. She made no sound, but watched intently as I ran my index finger and thumb down the length of the cord and threaded the string through the little metal ring in her clit. She let a little gasp escape her parted lips as I drew the last end of the string up to her left nipple and clamped it on with the second clothes pin, tying both ends together in the center of her chest, creating a triangle across her torso. She looked down at herself, her wild eyes moving from one point to the next and then coming back to meet my gaze; we held our eyes locked like this for a moment before I began plucking at her strings, one at a time, and she began to pant. I pulled each string, running my hooked index finger down the length of each leg of the triangle and pressing my thumb into each vector point: a hard nipple, a wet clit.
I played her like a harp, making a marionette out of her ecstasy while she moaned and swayed, closing her eyes out of pleasure and then forcing them back open to look into my steady, unwavering stare. I put my palms on her shoulders and turned her around, bending her forward until I could see her pussy spreading open in front of me.
“Stay there,” I said and walked over to another cabinet, where I selected a cock out of a plastic box and out of another bin, a wide elastic band with a ring hole in it. I pushed the head of the cock through the ring and secured the strap around the top of my thigh. I moved over to the large chair in the corner of the room and sat myself down on it, my knees coming out at a 90 degree angle and my feet squarely on the floor. “Come over here,” I commanded, and she righted herself, slowly, and turned to come stand in front of me.
I hooked my index fingers around the long sides of the triangle and pulled her toward me, positioning her so that she straddled the cock on my leg. “Down,” I said, and she spread her knees outward until she came to rest with the cock insider her, her ass spread on the tapered end of my knee. “Fuck yourself,” I said and she began moving up and down, slowly at first, making quiet sounds as she moved down, breathing deeply as she came back up. I watched her torso, her exquisite breasts as they bounced tightly against the gravity of her movement. Her stomach tightened and her feminine muscles appeared and disappeared with the rhythm of her breath. My thigh became slippery and glistened with her wet and I commanded her hands up behind her neck so that she had to use all her strength to work herself on the static cock on my leg.
Her breathing rate increased and her groaning became louder. She moved less up and down and began more to grind and gyrate on the surface of my leg. I reached down and pinched the metal ring in her clit with my fingers, holding it tightly while she tugged against it with her gyrations. She went crazy. I could feel her body stiffening, her motions becoming more constricted as her trajectory launched her straight toward climax. Just before she had the chance, I stood up, spilling her off of me and collapsing her like a rag-doll onto the floor. She looked around her, eyes blinking and bleary with disorientation and panic. When she had realized where she was, she clawed her way over to my feet, her little hands wrapping around my small ankles and she began to beg, “oh please, please!”
I stepped toward her, pressing the tip of the cock against her pleading lips and pushing past them, all the way to the back of her throat. She took it, hungrily, sliding her mouth over the cock and tasting herself on it. I bent my knee into her chest and flexed my ankle until the ball of my foot rested against her soft, bald mound. She groaned and I began to rub, grinding my foot into her wet pussy while she sucked greedily at the cock protruding from my thigh. I could feel her getting wetter, he juice from her cunt drooling down between my toes, running along the arches of my foot in slow droplets.
I stepped forward and knocked her onto her back. She fell with her knees spread wide, her hands groping hopelessly at her breasts. I stepped on her hot, wet pussy and pressed into it with my foot, leaning all my wait over my knee and reaching down to grab the triangle web across her torso. My index finger on the top leg and my pinky and thumb grabbing the longer sides, I pulled all sides together and gave my instrument one final pluck, resounding in a triumphant wail as she came, back arched and hips thrust into the air, before collapsing like a rag-doll on the cold floor in front of me.

Mistress Rex

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Friday, October 15, 2010

Productive Day

Hi everyone,

Today was a very successful and productive day. We shot videos for the NYC Rubber Studio Clips4sale site, and we also captured some amazing new content for Our latest store: Interrogated & Beaten. The lucky slave who had the opportunity to star in these videos was ironically none other than, yes, Felix the LUCKY slave. We are all starting to truly understand why his nickname suits him so well. Lucky Felix got to shoot footage with some of the hottest, most experienced Mistresses in NYC.

This slave is very useful to Me because he is very versatile in his interests, but more importantly - very willing to please. He can endure a heavy corporal scene and is very "into" rubber and bondage. To top it off, it turns out he can take a pretty harsh beat-down as well! That's a skill that is rare in most slaves. Enduring a street-fight type beat-down is not everyone's "cup of tea," and although My slaves will handle whatever I have to dish out (because they have no choice) - it is always better for me when the slave is willingly able to endure for his Mistress. Most slaves are only interested in their own gratification and will often have the audacity to follow instructions from a Mistress begrudgingly if it is not something they want to do. And that doesn't make for the best content, and it puts Me in a bad mood - which is not good for anyone! Most e-mails I receive from slaves wishing to be featured in Our clips are only willing to engage in activities they enjoy or that they are familiar and comfortable with. They are not willing to "think outside the box," and try something new. So note to any slaves wishing to star in Our videos - as a Mistress, performer and director, I need slaves that are willing to go above and beyond for Me… period.

Moving along -I am not going to be modest here. Today's scenario was quite brilliant and creative. Here is the basic script:

Felix has been secretly taping Mistresses sessions at the Studio. Mistress Valera finds out about this scheme and interrogates him, demanding to know WHO put him up to it and WHY. Eventually, She water boards him. He finally confesses that is was the doing of the illustrious Mistress Mona… but was it? No, it wasn't. Uh oh, Felix. Mistress Mona is furious because Felix lied about Her involvement in such a hideous and unethical crime. She decides She wants revenge and She wants to beat the truth out of him. Who REALLY put him up to this? Felix is forced into confessing it was Our star beat-down fighter, Domina Nyx. Domina Nyx does not stand for this and beats Felix senseless until the blood drips from his mouth. Poor Felix (We might have to all reconsider how lucky he is right now) is then triple-teamed by all three Dommes and receives the beating of his life. Well, as if this wasn't bad enough for Felix… I get involved! A Head Mistress DOES NOT put up with such commotion in Her dungeon. Great excuse to get in on the action! Can't let My girl's have ALL the fun ;-) Stayed tuned for how this scene plays out. There is a real twist to how this story ends, but I will not give it away. But I promise you won't be disappointed. This is some of Our best work, EVER!

Mistress Ariana Chevalier

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Mistress Alicia

Hello Everyone:

Another Independent Mistress Update:

I have known Mistress Alicia for quite some time now. She actually began Her career where I began Mine. I had already been at the Studio for several years before Mistress Alicia started training to be a dominatrix. When She arrived, I had assisted with Her training. A year after She started actively operating as a professional Mistress, I decided I was going to become an Independent. Mistress Alicia and I had not since each other since that time. However, here We are now: Under the same roof! Mistress Alicia, the Ultimate Humiliatrix – welcome to Your new home!

Mistress Ariana Chevalier

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Mistress Mona

Hello NYC Rubber Studio Fans:

As you may have noticed, I recently added photos and bios of some of the Independent Mistresses that have joined Our team here at the NYC Rubber Studio. I would formally like to introduce and welcome the extraordinary Mistress Mona, formerly from L.A. Mistress Mona is sharp, creative, strict, sadistic, sensual, sexy… well let Me not get too carried away here, I am sure you get the point. Just thinking about Her gets me all sweaty. This amazing Domme is on Her way to becoming one of New York City’s legendary dominatrices.

Love Ya, Mona

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Monday, October 11, 2010

New Store: Interrogated & Beat-Down!

Hello all:

I am pleased to announce the launching of My new store: Interrogated and Beaten. Clips will be added on a weekly basis with the option of buying the movie in parts, or the full version. This new store is role-played themed, with creative scenarios enacted by the Mistresses and their victims for the purposes of your entertainment, and of course, theirs! But don't let the role-play fool you, the beat-downs are all REAL. Watch these poor casualties get punched and kicked without mercy until they are ready to confess, or perhaps lose consciousness. How much can they withstand from the likes of Domina Nyx and Goddess Omi? Find out in the first 2 videos released: The Panty Thief & Nosy Bastard.

There is only one way to get to the truth around here: INTERROGATE & BEAT-DOWN.

Mistress Ariana

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Saturday, October 09, 2010

New Furniture

Hello Everyone:

I realize it has been quite a while since my last blog update, but things have been very busy and hectic here at the NYC Rubber Studio. I wanted everyone to be aware of our new furniture update, which sure is some exciting news for those of us who are bondage enthusiasts! For several years we have wanted a multipurpose bondage chair, one built with more than enough eye hooks that would make it quite easy and efficient to tightly bind our poor helpless victims so that we can have our way with them! To add some excitement, this chair could easily double up as a tickle chair. Talk about helpless victims... all bound up and squirming and giggling beneath the gentle fingertips of our Mistresses as they delightfully tease vulnerable flesh without mercy! Well, here is what we came up with:

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

Friday, October 08, 2010

Felix the not so luck slave

Hello everyone:

Since I am feeling in a generous mood, I thought I would take this opportunity to share with you the details of a wonderful session that I recently had with one of my favorite slaves.

This person contacted me over 10 years ago and at the time he was a complete novice, having never experienced anything related to the BDSM and the fetish world. We actually never had a session due to his financial constraints but I did correspond with him and give him some guidance to help him on his journey.

Before our session this week, he had mentioned to me that I, along with Diana Balance, had always been very nice to him by sending him thoughtful e-mails steering him in the right direction. I actually remember the e-mail exchanges we had way back when. He had always fantasized about being in complete rubber.

Many of you may know whom I am speaking of. He is known as “Felix, the lucky slave.” However, I am not quite so sure he is as lucky as his reputation suggests. That fact that he is a latex fetishist and had never been put in a rubber body-bag seemed very unfair. He has been in the fetish since for quite some time now, and has only received attention from Mistresses who preferred to administer corporal punishment or put him in average bondage predicaments.

So, in my opinion, Felix has not been so lucky when it comes to his intense fetish for latex: body-bags, gags, hoods, complete enclosure, etc. So I decided to change that so that he could live up to his reputation as the lucky slave…. At least once! He doesn’t quite know what he is getting himself into here, but he will learn!

I put Felix on the suspension table after securing him snugly in a latex body-bag, complete with a hood. He was tied to the table and then the table was suspended on garage springs, floating like a hammock. I then decided to double-hood him, just for the hell of it and because the second hood was inflatable and a re-breather and I thought that would be fun. Poor little Felix was in latex Heaven.

Mistress Mona graciously decided to join in on the session. She nibbled on his nipples and drooled Her precious spittle into his mouth while I teased him with my vibrator and a cold pack. Unable to see, and barely able to hear because of the hoods, his body became extra sensitive to our touches, to compensate for his lack of other senses. Mistress Mona actually removed Her panties and placed them right into his re-breather hole. Poor Felix could no longer control himself and exploded all over…. .for which he will, of course, pay for dearly in the near future! ;-)

We have a long road ahead of us and you will all get to witness it and live it vicariously through our upcoming video clips. Welcome to my world, Felix!

Mistress Ariana

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

New Furniture Update


Hello Everyone:

I realize it has been quite a while since my last blog update, but things have been very busy and hectic here at the NYC Rubber Studio. I wanted everyone to be aware of our new furniture update, which sure is some exciting news for those of us who are bondage enthusiasts! For several years we have wanted a multipurpose bondage chair, one built with more than enough eye hooks that would make it quite easy and efficient to tightly bind our poor helpless victims so that we can have our way with them! To add some excitement, this chair could easily double up as a tickle chair. Talk about helpless victims... all bound up and squirming and giggling beneath the gentle fingertips of our Mistresses as they delightfully tease vulnerable flesh without mercy! Well, here is what we came up with:

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined

It all started (story)

It all started with “Anything you want Mistress." That was John's response, when asked just what he was interested in doing if given the opportunity to session with Lady Akane. Any seasoned Mistress would find this cause for elation as having a rigid, scripted session can be painfully boring. Poor John was unaware of how he sealed his own fate with his very words and what kind of license he had just given Lady Akane, the very license to use and abuse him if it was what She wanted. After-all, he did say "Anything."
It had been two weeks since he had booked the appointment, and he had been living in anticipation as the days seemed to drag on and on. And slowly the thought occurred to him that perhaps he should have given his answer a little more consideration when telling Lady Akane She could use him entirely at Her whim. The anxiety began to build up as the session date approached. All John could think about was the session and the predicament he probably had gotten himself into due to his overzealous desire to please Lady Akane with his response when questioned on what kind of session he would enjoy to have with Her. It was all starting to settle in his feeble brain that when it comes to BDSM, the range of "play" possibilities are so vast that anything could encompass a range of activities from sensual spanking to being encased in a rubber body bag with electric units on your genitals and a straw coming from your mouth with someone breathing into it as the only way to keep you alive. Yes, "Anything" was a silly thing to say.
John waited on pins and needles until his appointment with Lady Akane. When it finally arrived, Friday at 2pm, he was filled with both an eager desire to play with his Mistress a slight twinge of dread at what he might expect as the result of his own enthusiasm. He wondered what devious things She had dreamt up for him, and if their session had been as heavily on Her mind the past two weeks as it was on his. To confound the issue, he decided he needed to book TWO hours, which leaves a lot more room for torture opportunity if Lady Akane happened to be of a sadistic mindset that day.
John was obedient. He called from the corner before he arrived, his voice shaking a bit as he explained who he was. He was given directions to the building and with his heart jumping in his chest a little with every step, he finally made it to the door. He was immediately buzzed in and found himself beginning to sweat as he stood before the elevator, knowing that pushing the button and entering would seal his currently unknown fate. His hand shook as he extended it to press the button that called the elevator to him. The elevator opened with a foreboding, grinding noise that sent a small shiver up John's spine, and then back down again.
Knowing that he was just moments away from being usurped by Lady Akane's presence was almost too much for him to bear, but there was no turning back now. Before he knew when was happening, the elevator doors close with the same grinding noise with which they opened and the sweat was now visibly dripping from John's face. He quickly took a tissue to wipe it, as not to look non-presentable when he arrived. He pushed the button gingerly, as if he were doing it in slow motion, and slowly the elevator creaked up 2 floors. The doors slid open and John stepped into the tiny foyer that separated the elevator from the dungeon. He tried to swallow the nerves that had begun to well up in the back of his throat as he was greeted by the Studio's receptionist.
"Come in," she smiled.
John obeyed without hesitation, and stood before the secretary looking like a poor pathetic fish that had just accidentally jumped out of the ocean and could not return. "I'm here to uh…. here-to-see-Akane."
His jumbled response made him insecure and also he realized he forgot to title his Mistress, a big "no-no." "LADY Akane," the receptionist gently scolded, making sure to the emphasize the title "Lady," so John would understand in no uncertain terms he was dealing with a woman of authority. She then led him to the first room on the right, instructing him to undress and await the arrival of his Mistress. The stern tone in Her directives only made his condition worse, as any anxiety he might have swallowed was now rising to the surface and threatening to eject itself all at once. But he knew there was no escape, and he entered the dimly lit room… the lights so low he could barely see what lay before him. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe not. He quickly located the silhouette of what looked like a table and quickly undressed, placing his neatly folded clothes upon it.
The receptionist entered the room a few moments later, startling him and coldly instructed him to turn around. He didn't dare disobey. He was now a naked, vulnerable mess before her and the reality of the situation was starting to register as he felt a blindfold being snuggly secured to his head while he was led to a chair and told to be seated. "Don’t move an inch," the voice commanded with authority. Her words trailed off as John sat in the dark hearing nothing but the last echoing syllables of her voice and the door that closed quietly behind it. John couldn't keep track of time, but it seemed as if he was sitting in this chair for an eternity with a silence so intrusive is was nearly deafening. He listened as hard as he could while trying even harder not to move a single muscle in his body, lest he be found out and punished for disobedience. But all he could hear for his efforts was the sound of his own strained breathing accompanied by his own, rapid heartbeat.
Then there was a noise. Or was there? At first the sound was so faint, John could only attribute to his imagination and the extreme heightened state of anxiety that engulfed his exposed body. But as She came closer, the sound became more audible and definitely more real. John was hearing the unmistakable sounds of a woman's high heels dangerously encountering the hardwood floors. The sound was serious, ominous even… and then it suddenly stopped. Now there was a small "click" of the doorknob turning followed by a shutting and locking sound that made him feel entirely trapped. John began to shake nervously in his chair, still blindfolded and waiting for some sort of barrier to disrupt the silence. But Lady Akane toyed with him for a few moments as She surveyed Her surroundings to make sure everything was properly in place for their session. She said nothing, and simply moved about the room with those clicking heels and every time that they tapped the ground John lost a little more of his breath.
Finally, the Lady came close to him, bending down to whisper in his ear. “You said I could do anything I wanted… and I’m going to do just that, " She informed him. Her voice was soft, yet discernibly stern.
John couldn’t help but blurt out, “ Lady Akane! I am so glad to finally be able to sess…“ But before he could finish, something round and tasting of rubber was forcefully shoved into his mouth and roughly fastened to the back of his head. "I don't remember asking you to speak," She scolded. Good thing I anticipated you wouldn't be able to control that eager mouth of yours and so I conveniently brought one of my gags to make sure you can't utter a single sound." Her words terrified him, he was suddenly chocked into silence even without the gag. He then heard a rustling beside him and his arms, which had originally been resting at his sides, were swiftly bound, hoisted up into the air and anchored to something above him. During those few moments She leaned over him to put him in the proper suspended position, John couldn't help but inhale deeply as Her perfume invaded his senses. Her scent smelled of nutmeg, clove, candy and sweat. But he was soon jerked away from his intoxication as the Mistress began work on securing his legs. He didn’t need his eyes to be able to tell She was quite skilled with rope. She made quick work of his legs, which had been forced open and strapped to, what he could only assume was stirrups, judging by the fact that his thighs were spread wide apart, leaving him completely exposed .
“What have I gotten myself into?” he thought to himself as the room was now engulfed in that silence that had stifled him just minutes ago. John was suddenly becoming painfully aware of how vulnerable he was as he felt the cool breeze of the air conditioner gently caress his very exposed member. John heard a small but indiscernible sound as Lady Akane walked over to get something from the other end of the room. As She walked away from him, any trace of Her lingering scent vanished and when She returned it was replaced by the harsh and sterile smell of rubbing alcohol. "Anything, John…" She seductively reminded him.
Then Her voice shifted to that of a cold scientist, stripped of emotion and concerned only with the subject before Her. “Subject: Caucasian Male. Early forties. Height: Six foot. Weight: 220lbs.” Said Lady Akane, without even the slightest touch of sentiment.
John tried to jump away from the cold spray of alcohol that dampened his genitals, but his bindings gave no where to jump. Lady Akane sprayed his genitals till they dripped with the cold substance and then proceeded to spray his nipples in the same manner to make sure the skin was sterile enough for Her experimentations.
The next smell that filled the room was a little more foreign to John. Rubbing alcoholic was a familiar scent, but what invaded his nostrils now was almost metallic and left a bitter taste in his mouth as the scent trickled from his nose to the back of his throat. As She applied this new and mysterious liquid to the body parts She had just gotten finished sterilizing, the smell grew more intense and it began to register that it was the smell of iodine. John tried to open his eyes beneath the blindfold, but was unsuccessful. The anxiety petrified him as he tried to imagine what Lady Akane had in store for him. He shivered with fear and anticipation as he felt Her wiping down his genitals with gauze that She held in her gloved hands. Despite the dread of what might soon happen to him, the poor slave grew quickly as She touched him, even with gloves and a piece of gauze. His uncontrollable physical response was met with one of Her own, a firm slap to the head of his cock that forced a muffled yelp from behind the gag.
Although he was blindfolded, he couldn't help but envision Her in his mind. He could almost swear he could see the smirk on Her beautiful face, judging by the little “hmm..” sound he heard while he was being inspected.
John listened closely for any hint of what might happen next. He strained his ears and his imagination to hear what She might do to him, since his eyes and the rest of his body were obviously useless to be used as guides and could not suggest hints of anything. All he had to rely on was his ears, and he listened intently as he heard a small, crinkling and rustling sound, like the sound of candy wrappers being eagerly torn open by an eager and undisciplined child. His intense concentration was abruptly interrupted by a sharp pain to his right nipple. "What was that he though?" Did she pinch him, cut him? He couldn't tell. But the pain was being administered repeatedly until he lost track of how many times he was subjected to it. The aching in his nipple was agonizing and he almost felt as if it were weighted, as if something were dragging down in his skin. He still didn't know what was happening but the increasing burning caused him an attempt to squeal, which was pitiful as it was muffled by the thick gag in his mouth.
Just when he thought he wouldn't be able to withstand the sensation anymore, a soothing voice guided him to the headspace necessary to endure. “Shush! It’s alright, You are doing wonderfully” Lady Akane said, reassuringly. She sensed it was necessary to lighten Her tone and recollect some of the emotion that was not present when She began Her experiment. A little encouragement can go a long way. “When I finish piercing your nipples," She told him sweetly, "if I’m happy with your behavior I’ll give you a lovely little treat.”
It took a moment for the words to register. "Piercing… nipples?" he repeated in his head silently. So that's what She was doing. That was the intense shooting pain that seared him all at once and then gave way to the dull aching and weighted feeling that was barely durable. He began to panic as he had never been pierced before, the thought alone was overwhelming even though he had just endured a handful of needles to one nipple. John was accustomed to paddles and the palms of a Mistress' hand disciplining him with a spanking; piercing was not something he ever even thought to suggest to himself. It must have entirely avoided his mind when he spoke those fateful words to Lady Akane 2 weeks ago. "Anything, Mistress."
Lady Akane sensed his panic as She watched him struggling in the chair. Despite his inability to go anywhere, She began gently stroking his needle-free nipple with soft and gentle caresses that gave way to a twinge of excitement despite the overwhelming sense of terror he was experiencing. "John," She encouraged, "you are a very good boy. You are doing a wonderful job and I am so pleased with you." She gently stroked his face and rubbed his back, tracing Her nails down his skin and reassuring him with a pleasant voice that his obedience was impressive. Slowly, he began to settle down.
He words soothed his aching nipple and as she began work on the other one, his experience of the pain transformed. It was sharp and piercing but also bittersweet because he wanted to please his Mistress and because Her words held so much comfort and encouragement. The pain sent a rush of pleasure tingling through his entire body with each new needle. He was so distracted by the sensation of cold metal being driven into his flesh that he could barely hear Her instruction to take deep breaths with each new needle. In his mind, he envisioned his nipples to resemble a pincushion. He held back whimpers of pain and pleasure intertwined and basked in the warmth that started at his abused nipples and spread to the rest of his body in waves.
Then, just as suddenly as Lady Akane had begun piercing his small nipples, She stopped. John could hear the sound of peeling latex and could hear Her tearing off her gloves and disposing of them in the trash. As soon as she had safely disposed of them, She unbuckled his blindfold and tossed it aside carefully, allowing him the first glimpse into Her mesmerizing eyes that held him spellbound. Suddenly all sense of pain vanished as Lady Akane smiled sweetly at him as his eyes adjusted from the darkness while She came clearly into focus before him.
"Look," She directed him calmly as She pointed about the room to scattered stainless steel plates that functioned as mirrors, allowing him to see the personal art project/experiment he had become at the hands of his Mistress. The vision in his mind was accurate, his nipples did look like pin cushions and for a second he felt another wave of panic rising to his throat, but Lady Akane neutralized that with Her soothing voice and praise. "See what a good boy you were for Me," she praised. Something that would have made him uncomfortable to see normally now brought an awkward smile to his gagged face. He looked at Lady Akane affectionately as She smiled down at him. He watched in awe of Her beauty as She put on a fresh pair of surgical gloves and gazed inquisitively at Her, wondering what Her next move could possibly be.
“You’ve been such a good boy John," Lady Akane began, "Letting Me play with your adorable little nipples. Since you’ve been so good, I think you deserve a little treat. Don’t you?” She asked sweetly, already obviously aware of his answer.
He muffled “Mhmm," because it was all he could say beneath his gag and She laughed a little at his predicament. That was all the response She needed to follow through.
She took a few small steps aside and he arched his neck to see what She was doing. There was a small clatter of metal, but She was now just outside of his field of vision so he really couldn’t tell what She was doing. When She was perfectly within his sight again, he saw that in Her right hand She held a slender metal rod that gleamed brightly with freshly applied lubricant.
She smiled and asked quietly, “Do you know what I’m going to do with this, John?”
He nodded his head as his eyes widened in fear and anticipation. The fear he had experienced in the beginning of the session rushed back with an unbridled force and he jerked a little beneath this bonds, terrified and contemplating how such an activity could be rewarding.
"Shhhh…." She said, as he started to gently protest beneath this gag. She could even see a tear forming in the corner of one eye. But She gently took hold of his flaccid cock, holding it at a slight angle and held the rounded tip of the rod against the opening. “This is going inside of you, John and you don't have a choice. But I need you to trust Me and I need you to relax for me - just like the good boy I know you are. I know you want to please me. And this is a treat. I promise, you’ll love this.” John was able to relax his body at the command of Her coaxing and he was also entranced by Her beauty which offered a distraction. "Just look into My eyes and concentrate only on that," She commanded. He did as he was told, and the experience was transformed from a potentially horrifying one to one that was immensely gratifying.
The metal rod slid in effortlessly and he stared wide-eyed as the long metal object slowly disappeared into his cock. The sensation it brought was almost confusing to him, yet nonetheless amazing. It was the combined feeling of something different and the pressure of the most amazing blowjob. Just as the object had about half an inch left protruding from the head of his cock, Lady Akane gently slid it back out. This was a whole other sensation entirely. Almost like ejaculating and urinating simultaneously. She proceeded to slide it in and slide it back out several more times before pulling it out completely. All the while John, had he not been gagged, would have had his jaw to the floor gaping in shock and ecstasy.
“Oh, we’re not done yet!” Lady Akane said softly after removing the rod completely and placing in aside on the nearby table. She was out of sight again and John craned his neck as far as he could, but he couldn’t quite see what She was doing. He wasn’t in suspense for too long when She lifted a slightly thicker rod and dangled it playfully in front of him. “Next up is this one! But, just so you know, we are working our way to this one..” and just as She finished Her sentence, Her other hand lifted a peculiar shaped rod that although thinner, had a rather thick bit of rounded metal at the end… “The rosebud…”she smiled.
She worked in the second rod just as She had done the first, pulled it out and let it slip back in a few times and then gently pulled it out and set it aside and reached for the Rosebud for the finale. “Don’t worry, since it’s your first time with sounds, I picked a really small one," She said as She lubricated the rod in prepared it for insertion. John was obviously growing excited and he was also proud of himself for enduring such an experience. He was in complete awe that Lady Akane and manipulated his endurance and pushed his limits and by the time it was all said and done he was almost collapsed from the ecstasy. He didn't ever want to leave, which made Lady Akane smile a little, but the session was now officially over.
She allowed him to get dressed and then returned to lead him to the elevator. “I’m glad you had a good time, John," She said, which She had gathered judging from the ear to ear grin on his face. "Aren’t you glad you let Me pick?” She asked seductively while showing him out.
“Yes, Mistress," John replied with sincerity and adoration. May I come and see you again next week?"
"Of course you can," Lady Akane responded, a grin now forming on Her own face. "What exactly would you like to do when you see Me again?" She asked as the door began to close behind them.
"Anything, Mistress," he said without a single trace of hesitation.
Lady Akane smiled and thought to Herself, "Yes, anything…"

NYC Rubber Studio

Keeping World Shiny And Tight And Well Disciplined