For Every Ounce of Pleasure…
Mistress prepares me in the usual way.
I’m blindfolded, and restrained by leather wrist cuffs attached to a steel frame in the corner of her dungeon.
Mistress’s touch is tender. As she works, she presses her body against mine.
Body parts are bound in rope.
Waves of pleasure and intensity are cultivated, slowly and deliberately. Each a little higher than the one that went before.
Then the blindfold is removed, and I can watch Mistress working.
The body bag is in a suitcase in the corner of the room. It’s heavy. She drags it to the centre of the dungeon, then swings it onto the leather-topped bench that will be my place of rest—and torment—for the next hour.
Mistress opens the case and lays the bag out on the bench.
It is stitched from two layers of leather—a heavy hide on the outside, with thick straps and buckles every nine inches around it’s diameter; and a light, soft leather lining on the inside. Special internal sleeves house and restrict the arms.
There is a full-length zip up the front of the bag, with smaller zippers at strategic locations around it. A collar and buckle at the neck.
Embossed on the right-hand shoulder are the letters: A.V.
Naked, I slip my arms into the sleeves. Mistress rests my head on a leather pillow. She checks my comfort; then slowly closes the zip from my toes to my neck.
Inside, it smells divine. New, fresh, natural. Close to the earth and nature. The leather feels soft like the best Egyptian cotton sheets.
It’s warm and heavy, the weight and pressure soothing.
I feel comforted, relaxed, restrained. The leather diminishes nothing: I am extra sensitive to every stroke of Mistress’s touch.
The hood is fitted. I can see out—but only just. Regardless, I choose not to watch Mistress go about her work.
She is skilled; purposeful.
I close my eyes and focus on the pressure of the leather against my skin.
The tightening straps.
The pressure is increased until I am immobile. Vulnerable. It’s an exquisite juxtaposition: what could be terrifying in fact makes me feel more cared for than perhaps ever before.
Mistress’s attention to detail is sublime.
Now, she sits astride my chest and directs me to open my eyes.
Her piercing stare holds my eyes.
Time stands still.
When she eventually looks away, I know I am in her power.
A big thank you to the writer of this adorable review.
I received it in 2019, and have been sitting on it since.
Although I have not been able to session since March, I’ve kept myself busy enough to ignore my website.
Motivation is not so easy when there is no confirmation of return to Fetish House or Collingwood Confidential. But, the numbers are dropping fast, and I’m hoping to see my regular clients before Christmas.
Until then, I wish you well,