I arrive at her ranch in rural New York state and as soon as I enter the premises I am told to strip and get on my knees and crawl into the next room. She sits in an ornately carved wooden chair. The wood is dark and weathered. Her legs are crossed and she has a relaxed, slightly amused look on her face. Her legs, clad in black thigh high stockings are lean and muscular. She also wears a pair of leather underpants with a silver zipper running between her legs. The leather corset she is wearing, pushes her breasts together exaggerating her cleavage. "Crawl over here and sit up." She tosses a thick leather collar with d‑rings at my feet and tells me to put it on. She stands up and places a leather blindfold over my eyes blocking out all light. She slowly walks around me as she tells me that from now on I must answer each question with either "Yes Mistress" or "No Mistress" and that if I had anything else to say I must ask permission. She also says that if I felt that things were too intense that the safe word would be "Mercy" and that she would know to let me cool off a bit. She now stands in front of me, her sacred delta inches from my face.
I can smell the leather of the underpants she wears. She turns her back to me and pushes one of her ass cheeks against my lips and tells me to kiss her. I lean into her soft flesh and gently do as she has asked. She turns and leans down and unfastens my leather cock ring and then refastens it even tighter. With her velvet gloved hand, she squeezes my prick which is starting to swell.
She attaches clothespins, one on each nipple and one each on the tops of my ears, She states that she is going to be making some tea, and asks if I would like some. I reply "Yes Mistress, please.".. I here the heels of her boots click across the rough hewn wood of her kitchen floor as she puts the kettle on the wood‑burning stove. She re‑enters the room and gives each of the clothespins on my nipples a twist and asks if I am doing O.k. I reply that I am and thank her for her attention and concern. She gently snickers as she leans down and attaches two more clothespins to my chest and two more on my scrotum. She gives my ass a couple of swats causing my balls to sway and I can feel the pinching of the wooden devices. Soon the kettle is whistling and she leaves the room to prepare the tea. Soon I here her footsteps approaching and she stands before me. I can smell the hot tea nearby. She tells me to place my hands behind my back and then securely fastens them together with some soft rope. I start to wonder how I am going to drink my tea. I now realize that the tea is in a bowl in front of me on the floor.
"Go ahead and drink your tea, slave. It should be cool enough by now. And don't spill any on my carpet."
I lean forward and carefully lap at the warm liquid. It is sweet and refreshing. I drink all the tea and Mistress mentions how neat I was and that maybe I will be rewarded for my obedience. I thank her for the privilege to serve her in any way that she deems appropriate. She orders me to my feet and tells me that we will be taking a walk outside and did I want to put some shoes on. I tell her "No thank you Mistress" as she fastens a leash to the collar around my neck and starts to lead me out the door.
The day is warm and the early spring air is fresh. We walk down the dirt drive toward the barn and she leads me inside. She takes off the blindfold and before me I see ow of metal head clamps for cows to stand at while being milked. Mistress orders me to my knees and forward so that my head is in between one of the clamps. She walks to the control at the end of the row and slides it closed, tightening the clamp around my neck. The lashing begins, Using a riding crop and a bamboo cane, she starts to stripe my ass and the backs of my thighs, ordering me to thank her and to count out each one for her. After ten swats, each increasing with severity, she takes a break and runs her gloved hand over my reddened ass cheeks. I can feel her fingers tracing the welts she has made as she laughs under her breath. She starts to whip me again, this time concentrating on my back causing me to arch in pain with each blow. She takes a break, and releases me from the stockade, but only long enough to reach forward and pluck the clothespins from my balls and the tops of my ears. The sensation of the blood flowing back into the previously stifled arteries causes me to writhe in pain as if someone were sticking white hot needles into my skin. I can tell by the low snickering of Mistress that she is amused, if only slightly.
She removes the clothespins still attached to my nipples by swatting them off with her crop. She successfully removes three with her first attempts, but the last one is a bit more stubborn. She swings hard with the crop end, but the wooden clamp is tenacious and bites into my skin as the area around my nipple becomes red and swollen from the repeated blows. Finally the clamp comes free and Mistress steps forward and gently massages my aching teats. My relief is short lived as she produces a leather parachute device and attaches it around my balls and hangs a twenty ounce fishing weight from the chain dangling below. She orders me back into the stockade and resumes wailing on my ass with her crop. Each shot causing the weight to sway, pulling on my testes.
After about ten swats, I can hear the crackle of the tires of a vehicle coming up the driveway, toward the barn. Her lover approaches and laughs and I realize that she is a female and this turns me on even more. Once again Mistress starts with the flogging and has me count and thank her for each swat. At the count of thirty‑five, she announces that her arm is tired and that we are moving out of the barn and into the yard. As 1 follow her outside, at the end of her leash, I can feel the sun mocking me as the heat from above exaggerates the burning of the welts left by her crop. Mistress leads me to the clothesline and unties my hands, refastening them over my head and outstretched, to the rope strung between two huge Oak trees.
She bats at the weight still hanging between my legs and runs the end of the crop up between my ass cheeks as she orders me to spread my legs wider. She starts to swat at the inside of my thighs now and the pain of the crop on the tender skin is excruciating. As she whips me she tells me that the insides of my thighs belong to her and no‑one else is to touch me there without her permission.
I tell her that I understand. She stops and walks over to me and unties my hands and orders me to kneel on the warm grass. She undoes my blindfold and takes a seat in a wicker chair a few feet in front of me, undoes her leather panties, and I see that she is wearing a small, black, G‑string underneath them. She removes the G‑string and leans forward and stuffs the crotch, heady with her scent, into my mouth. She leans back and speaks in her throaty purr. "Now, is slave prepared to show me how he masturbates?" I nod my head enthusiastically and reply that I am. She picks up a four foot long buggy whip that I hadn't noticed lying next to her in the grass. She gives the command to start stroking myself, and as I do so, she starts to swat at my nipples with the whip. Deftly she finds each one in turn as I stroke my cock until each vein is engorged to the point of bursting. The weight hanging between my legs pulls mercilessly on my balls. Soon Mistress senses that I am nearing orgasm and tells me that at the count of ten I am going to come for her. She starts to count, slowly, all the time flicking the whip at my chest, snapping it on my nipples. The tight leather thong wrapped around my cock digs into the tender flesh as the shaft strains to grow larger from all the stimulation. She gets to the count of eight and I am barely able to hold back and I have to stop touching myself. After a long pause, she resumes counting, but she has restarted at number one! My moans grow louder as the head of my dick pulses in anticipation.
She gets to nine, then says "nine and a half ........... Nine and three quarters ............ Then finally as she swats even harder at my chest, she raises her voice ever so slightly and says .... One. She starts to count all over again, my cock dribbling pre‑cum onto the soil in front of me. I'm panting and groaning as my head swims in hedonistic ecstasy as she, once again, starts to recite the numbers. This time, knowing that I cannot hold back any more, she conclusively says "eight ...nine.... ten!" My body convulses as I ejaculate, my knees buckling underneath me. As I come Mistress swats at the head of my spewing cock with the whip, sending jolts of electricity through me. When I am done Mistress says that she has some errands to run and that I am to crawl inside and get dressed, thank her and leave. I do as I am told, and as I drive away, my ass still burning and my raw nipples rubbing against the inside of my shirt, I realize how lucky I am.
We are located in Midtown Manhattan and easily accessed by several subway lines. There are three secure parking garages within a few blocks of our dungeon and parking is available on the street after 7 p.m.
From Monday through Friday 10:00 a.m. to 1:30 a.m.
From Saturday to Sunday 10:00 a.m to 11:00 p.m.