Good day to you, this is a brief introduction to the situation I am about to regale. I am the diarist to Miss Whippy cane she is the owner of an English specialist brothel. (I know some of you will have read this before, but read on and learn the reason for this tale. Sometime ago I asked her, Mistress W, for access to her client letters and requests she receives. This is one such story taken from those requests and how she dealt with this particular latex/leather pony, and if you have read ‘Sacked Two,’ (Gromet’s Plaza) you might make some connections, so read on and enjoy.
Once you have read and understood the content, you will know why this is a personal favourite of Mistress W’s. Enjoy, S M Ackerman.
The E-Mail explained only that the client liked the concept of being smothered in latex/leather and made to work until exhausted. It went on to state that ‘any and all’ actions carried out on him were acceptable.
I sat back in my comfortable computer chair and thought about this client and his wants. His referral to my house is in perfect order, arriving through a regular and trusted client. My only concern is whether I will be able to satisfy his requirements, given the brevity of his E-Mail.
In this situation (quite rare) in my experience. I find that most clients have a clear idea of their perfect fantasy, and usually detail it in everyway they can and excessively! This one is unusual, though I will not hold that against him, after all we are here to provide a service, and if the client wants to leave the detail of that service up to us, then so be it.
He has no grounds to complain if he does not get everything he wants, or if he gets more than he desires. Neither situation has much effect on my thoughts. I send him an appointment and that is that as far as contact with him goes, for now at least. A simple ‘yes, arrive at, be prepared to suffer the consequences of your request,’ signed Madam Whippy Cane. I attach a map to locate the property and an identification number for when he arrives.
My work is now dealt with for now, so for a nice mug of Mai’s excellent coffee. I buzz Mai and ask her if she will join me in the lounge as I want to discuss this client, and prearrange some features of his visit etc, tailoring our service to his requirements, but mostly my mood.
His arrival went exactly to plan; he is met by the house slave Clair, blindfolded at the outer door and led around the building and into the main house, where she deposits him in the latex and leather dressing room. His blindfold is removed, and for the first time he gets a good long look at Clair.
She is dressed for the part she is to play in a one piece spandex suit, and covered completely. A gag fills her mouth (she likes to talk too much) and before he can even get an erection she leaves him alone, after first pointing to the mirror on which is fixed a letter from myself, Miss Whippy-cane.
The letter contains a simple instructions, he is to look through the racks in the cupboard and select a full cover outfit that suits his fantasy. What he does not know is that the room is fitted with four tiny concealed cameras, and I am sitting in my office watching his every move with professional interest.
* * * * *
My name is Cedric, I know, it’s a left over from some ancient aunt’s father, who my mother (god bless her evil soul) liked the sound of, as she controlled every aspect of the previous Cedric’s life, apparently! So ‘mother dear’ imposed the name on me, her first and only child. Being called Cedric is nearly as bad as the boy named Sue in the song! At least it was for me during my school life, and that made me the pathetic submissive I am today, well that and other things, like the feel of leather and the pain of torture and bondage, humiliation, etc.
I have never been able to make up my mind whether having a ‘bitch queen’ for a mother is a benefit or not. Either way I developed into an intelligent, highly paid male who likes and needs to be subjected by a strong woman, and one who also likes every aspect of bondage and leather and the feeling of being totally controlled.
This is the reason I am standing before a long rack of weird looking (to vanillas) leather and latex outfits and in a brothel, desperately hoping to be tormented. With a rock hard erection poking out before me, which I might add I resist touching, as I suspect I am being watched somehow.
The first thing I see is a one piece cat type suit with a hood that has eye and mouth holes, and is made of spandex. This is the first time I have actually been able to see let alone wear such a thing, in my desperation I throw off my clothes stripping naked, leaving them dumped in a heap with little thought of the consequences of my action. Then ever so carefully I remove the spandex suit from the rack and unzip it. The zip (for ease I suppose) is located at the front and has a Velcro strip to cover it once it is done up. Sitting on the chair provided, I push my left foot into the left leg and then follow it with the other foot into the remaining leg hole. Now I pull up and strain, sucking in my slight paunch so the material can cover my body.
Putting my arms into the sleeves is easy enough, but then getting the material of the hood to cover my head is tricky, and I am afraid of splitting it, but it is designed to be pulled hard and soon I feel it fitting around my skull.
The Spandex contracts and seats itself firmly, gripping me all over, adding a silky erotic feel to my skin. My erection is compressed against my stomach now, which is when I discover the flap dangling for my cock. I fiddle about within the suit and soon have my erection fitted into the material sleeve, which feels very strange! Now I zip it all up and smooth the flap down over the zip, the Velcro works perfectly. I can’t resist looking at myself in the mirror, and wow, what a sight I make all silky and shiny black and completely covered.
I turn my attention away from the mirror and back to the rack. There it is, there hanging in the corner gleaming at me it waits, just begging to be worn by me. It’s a heavy duty, leather suit, just demanding to be put on, spandex and leather combined flitters through my mind, there is no resisting!
The leather unlike the spandex has no stretch and a lot more zips and straps. I pull on the suit like a pair of trousers, I fold my arms into the sleeves and start fastening from the ankles up. The leather creaks erotically as I bend and gripping me much tighter than the spandex. It is restricting my movements, but I am determined, and soon I am fully encased to the neck in heavy black leather. Now I look the part, now I feel the perfectly dressed submissive, all that is, but for my head.
A quick search on the shelves (located behind the clothes), reveals a gimp mask, also in leather. It too has eye holes and a mouth slot, but the slot is also fitted with a zip to silence the wearer. I pull it on, it’s a tight fit but with some straining it pops into place.
Again I turn towards the mirror, I can’t resist the image I see, but the zip is still open at my mouth, as a last touch I pull it closed and stand looking at myself. My spandex covered erection poking through the leather at my groin, which will never do I think!
I return to the shelves and locate a leather cock tube, with buckles that match to the suit, I push my erection into the tube (nearly coming at its touch), then I buckle it into place and look once again into the mirror.
My cock bobs as though waving at my image, perfect I decide, absolutely perfect, a delightful day-dream made reality. I would be satisfied with just being able to wear these outfits, but deep down I know that this is just the beginning.
* * * * *
I watch the monitors as Mai enters the dressing-room, she looks at the leather encased male, notes the erection jutting out in front of him, and smiles a knowing smile into one of the cameras.
“Kneel slave!”
I hear (through the speakers) as Mai shouts at my latest submissive. I like her smile as it shows she is enjoying herself. Watching carefully I try to imagine the effect those two simple words have on my client, as he obeys her command and falls instantly to his knees (still facing towards the mirror). His head bowed, his hands vanishing behind his back, his reaction to her authority automatic, well trained, just as it should be in a submissive like him.
Someone has spent some considerable time in training him to obedience that is obvious to me, and apparently it worked very well, but now I sit back and watch as Mai approaches the cupboard and removes two items from within. I note that she has stepped around his scattered clothes; the look of disgust on her face says it all to me.
Mai turns to face the door holding out the two objects, Clair steps forward and at a nod takes them both and turns towards the client. Who, I note, remains exactly as he is but now knowing that something is about to happen.
Clair places one object onto the chair and holding the other by its straps she reaches around the clients head, and pushes the red ball of hard rubber against his lips. His mouth opens, unresisting, I also note for future reference. The ball gag enters, parting his jaws, forced into his mouth by Clair pulling against the twin straps.
Mai has picked up something from inside of the cupboard and is holding it by her side, as she again steps around his clothes. Clair has grasped his wrists and pulled them in front of him and secured them with a pair of steel, double lock handcuffs. The short chain, I know, will allow him to crawl forward at the selected time.
“What the hell do you think you were playing at leaving such a disgusting mess on my nice clean floor?”
He turns his head (he can’t help himself) and looks, he sees his clothes and realises that his actions are unacceptable. Little does he know that Mai is the last person in the world to tolerate such disregard, she has a thing about tidiness, and a bigger thing about not touching people, and when she combines her natural assertiveness with her disgust, there will be hell to pay!
I had not instructed Mai in how to deal with him exactly, I left it totally up to her, and now I can see she is taking the initiative. The crop in her hand taps against her leg, just once, then lightning fast it whistles towards the clients shoulder, the thwack is some what lost in transmission, but the subs reaction is not.
He yelps at the same time bending forward, placing his face against the floor and waits for the next stroke to arrive, he does not have to wait long, six lashes cut across his back before Mai is satisfied.
She looks at Clair, and with a slight nod of her head, indicates that she is now ready and that the time has arrived. Clair (well briefed) opens a draw and removes a thick studded dog collar, which she buckles then padlocks around his neck. The lead is then attached and handed to Mai, who taking it from Clair turns and walks from the room, almost dragging the sub after her.
The pace she is setting will certainly scrape his knees before he arrives at my stables. I switch off the camera monitors and also leave for the stables, looking forward to a pleasant hours (for me anyway) trapping.
* * * * *
The thickness of the leather collar (the slave put around my neck) forces me to keep my head up as much as possible, which, when I am crawling at this Mistresses feet (as I am), is far from easy! I can hear the slave girl following behind us as we pass through the house.
The ball-gag really hurts, it is digging into my mouth, forcing my teeth apart, and is pulled even tighter by the pressure of the collar and the tugging of the Mistress as she leads me to my doom, or fantasy.
What is going to happen to me, what she will do to me I don’t know, but my cock has swollen even more and I thought that was imposable! The leather sheath is gripping my man-hood so tightly now I think it might cut of my circulation.
We cross a courtyard and enter into a wooden building, inside I see a male slave waiting, like me his dressed all in leather, unlike me he is not bound, but he is gagged too. He watches as I crawl towards him. The Mistress hands him the lead and steps away, she leans against a wooden partition watching. The slave jerks upwards on the lead, indicating that I stand. The female slave that followed us now joins him. Together they set to, preparing me for the next step of my journey into slavery.
They lead me to a wooden wheeled carriage with thin rubber tyres I see. I am placed between the extended wooden rods where the pony should go. I realise then that I am to be the pony to this trap. They (both slaves) set to, fastening me into place. They fit a harness from which the wood poles will hang, they add straps and chain and slowly secure me.
On to my feet the male puts running shoes, thankfully, as all I have covering my feet is spandex! My arms are secured behind my back, bent at the elbows and strapped to a leather belt, which is buckled at the front.
My bobbing cock is totally ignored during the process, the Mistress is watching every tiny move, every buckling up, in fact everything. Her oriental face has not smiled again! I think she smiles rarely, it sort of makes her seem more aloof and creates fear, and therefore respect for her. The crop she beat me with is still hanging from her wrist, she taps it impatiently against her leg, I get the feeling she would prefer to thrash it against my hide.
The female slave removes something from a peg and walks to stand in front of me, it is a head harness of some sort and she fits it in place, tightening all three straps in sequence. I can’t see anything but her, as there are large leather flaps now to either side of my eyes. I think they are called blinkers in horsy circles, but I am not sure! They certainly restrict my ability to see anywhere but directly in front of me.
A lead rein is clipped to a D-ring, and then with a jerk the male leads me out of the stables and into the courtyard again. He places me in the centre of the yard and removes the rein, replacing it with a pair of leather straps provided by the female slave. These he places somewhere behind me.
“Stay pony, you will be required to serve soon, you better do exactly what is wanted because otherwise, this driver is far less lenient of failure than I am!” Hisses the oriental looking Mistress into my ear!
I watch as she turns away from me and walks off, this is the first time that I have seen her from the back, fully, and what a sight! She is gorgeous, tall slim nicely proportioned, with a back-side that rolls as she walks, and undulates in the most erotic of ways! I am sad to see her leave, I thought she was the Mistress Whippy Cane, but obviously she is not! I wait, sweating beneath my double suits, wondering what is going to happen to me next?
The carriage moves slightly, I feel a weight being added to it, the balance returns and I know that someone is sitting in the driving seat. I feel the reins pulled slightly, jerking my head, getting my attention. Then a whip cracks next to my right ear, obviously I must move. I lean into the harness and the carriage moves slightly. I lean harder, pushing down and back through my legs, and the carriage rolls forward. The reins guide me across the yard and around the outer edge of the building, following a tarmac path that is ten foot wide. This leads me into the courtyard where I see cars including my own parked.
A woman walks into my view from the far side of the far car, she hesitates as I approach. I watch her carefully. She looks attractive, she has nice cut hair, a beautiful starched white blouse neatly tucked into a black knee length skirt and dark stockings and black patent high heels, still she hesitates. My driver pulls against the reins halting me, I can just see her still if I turn my head slightly. She looks at me, smiles slightly, taking in my position and dress, and then glances down seeing my erection in its sheath pointing at her, she smiles again.
He eyes meet mine and I feel exhilarated, partly because she is so attractive, partly because she has a nice warm smile and a twinkle in her eyes, and partly because being seen all swaddled in latex and leather by such a beautiful woman, is something that only happens in my dreams.
I wonder who she is, she looks like I imagine a Mistress might look when off duty, but maybe not. There is something slightly hesitant about her demeanour, something I can not put my finger on, but something all the same.
She looks beyond me and her face changes; there is a touch of fright flickering on it now! She turns toward the door and walks, then once she has passed in front of me she stops again. I know this because I am straining against my bonds to follow her every move. There is a crack, followed by a yelp of pain as the drivers whip cracks against the black skirt of this woman. She almost leaps into the air but instead she scurries away out of my sight.
The whip cracks again but this time it is my back that feels it! I lean into the harness and follow the guidance of my driver through and out of the car park. I turn as indicated to my right, following the tarmac track once more, the pace increases as the whip encourages me. I am jogging now, pulling the Carriage behind me, being driven by someone I can not and have not seen, someone who intends to push me to my limits, which is obvious, as the whip cracks either side of my ears twice more. I speed up again, extending my stride, putting all my effort into pleasing my driver.
The sun is shining, the track is dry and I am exhilarated beyond belief, I can’t believe it, but I still have an erection, and to my amazement it is giving me no signs of fading! This is the life I think, breathing hard wondering how far I can keep going at this pace. I needn’t have worried, the whip will encourage me and my driver will ensure my instant obedience.
* * * * *
My pony waits impatiently for me, all harnessed up by my staff. I climb aboard and pick up the reins cracking my whip, something I have spent some time learning to do, exploding the sound perfectly besides his right ear. We are off. The start is a bit rocky, slightly uncertain, but he gets into the rhythm quite quickly.
I drive him around the building following the track I had laid by the maggot’s men, exactly for this purpose. I wonder what he is thinking, I know and intended that he not see me at all during his attendance, it will add to his feelings of submission, if he never knows who is driving him. He might even think it is one of the slaves, but it isn’t, I always do my own driving, mainly because I enjoy the feeling of trapping in my grounds, and it makes for a pleasant outing for me. Especially if it is a nice day like today and I can work my human ponies to their limits.
I see Julie arriving, Mai will be pleased I realise, she (Julie) hesitates slightly, waiting I think for us to pass her by. I pull back on the reins halting my pony, indicating with my whip for her to cross. I can see she is quite taken by the effect and vision that is my pony. I indicate again, getting cross at her delay.
I glance at my watch, she is late nearly six minutes late for her appointment, Mai will be cross with her, she hates any lack of punctuality, and in this case she can punish it! Julie better hurry up or her life will not be worth living. I point with the whip tip towards the far door and she moves, taking my instruction.
Once she has passed the carriage she stops and half turns for another look I presume, well I am having none of that, so a flick my wrist and crack goes the whip across her arse, a perfect stroke, that makes her move. I pick up the reins one crack for the ponies back followed up with a double crack of my whip to encourage, we move forward, I steer my pony towards the trapping track and slowly relax.
A couple of flicks and I have the pony running flat out. He won’t be able to keep this pace up for long, and if he slows or stops he will be feeling the whip repeatedly, which is exactly how it should be for him.
* * * * *
My time is up, my legs feel like jelly, I am exhausted physically, and my back, bottom and thighs are covered in whip marks. My cock still hasn’t retracted, and I’m randy as hell, and I still have no idea who inflicted all I have suffered through on me, but I am grateful that they did.
Mai is escorting me from the building, she seems so nice now, so ordinary, the mystic aura has vanished, and in a way that is a shame but never mind, next time I visit I am sure it will be back.
At the outer door she turns, wishing me a pleasant day, and I depart, the door closes gently behind me, finished I sigh!
I look across the car park and there she is, the woman I met crossing the yard, she is dressed slightly differently and the clothes do not look as good as when I saw her earlier, especially the blouse. Gone is the white starched blouse and it is replaced with a loose plain smock, that frankly does not look good on her, she like me looks exhausted, but she also looks sated.
I smile, feeling self-conscious at my still erect cock, which insists on pushing against my trousers like a tent pole. She smiles back at me and I feel might heart lift.
Soon we are talking together, each standing by our respective cars.
A short while later we are sitting in a pub waiting for our meals.
A year into the future and we are getting married, and to my surprise Mistress Whippy cane and Mistress Mai and the two slaves (dressed more normally) accept our invitations and attend our wedding!
We now both go to the house, and both enjoy our time, usually in different ways, but occasionally side by side, pulling Mistress Whippy Cane in her new double harness carriage.
Its strange how life turns out, we met because of a brothel, and now we are married and happy and the brothel is almost a second home, as we are treated more as friends than as clients these days!
I know that Julie is helping out where she can, and I am doing what I can, and both of us are very happy!
All thanks to a brothel, and some attention, and the desires of fate’s…
The End.
03.08.10