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PEG
By
Latex Conservative
The whining. The moaning. The tossing. The turning. It’s four in the morning, and Mistress Ariel had enough.
She opens her brown eyes, hidden from all behind the evil, smoked goggle glasses of her gas mask. She lays there on her back, on a bed of white cotton sheets, pillows, and spreads, in her complete black latex and rubber Dominatrix outfit that covers her; a vision of powerful latex fetish femininity. Layers upon layers, all skin tight, all shiny, except for her lovely dress; it fit her tight through the top via corset, but it had a long, flowing, split skirt that allowed her latex legs and lovely ball-buster shoes peek out whenever she walks. A mane of beautiful black hair cascaded from her latex cowl down the front of her body, covering one of her large breasts. She lies there, still as the night should be, not having moved since she got into bed, and listens as a predator should to the cries of her prey.
The prey in question lies next to her in the bed in the form of a bound, gagged, plugged, and shoed submissive male. John is his name, and he is what the Scene refers to as a ‘pushy sub’. For months, learning of Mistress Ariel, John would pursue her and talk about his fantasy: this fantasy, where he is forced into latex and made to sleep in it with his Mistress as part of a whole weekend of submission. There he is now, his dream come true: head to toe in latex with her added details: the slave collar, the heavy rubber straightjacket, the strap gag in his mouth, the butt plug in his ass held in place by the straightjacket’s crotch strap, the stiletto heels on his feet with straps padlocked on his ankles; legs strapped and folded at the knee by belts; to be like this, for eight hours, starting at midnight. Only it is not a dream, and he is finding out that fantasy in mind is not always wonderful in reality.
Unfortunately for John, Mistress Ariel has what is known in the Scene as ‘dungeon temper’. Outside the dungeon, Ariel is kind to a fault; she’s sincere to people and their feelings. She enjoys dominating people, does so within reason and for free: she isn’t a ProDom. Being a Dominatrix, she knew she would draw assholes. What made her special compared to other Doms was her size. She is, as one of her favorite male sluts dubbed her once, a ‘TruDom’ because of her size: she is both tall and broad; six foot without shoes, and a very curvy yet proportionate size 10, and very strong. In high school she was a starting center for the girls’ basketball team and actually banged bodies in the low post against the boys at times. Now, she is a dark Amazon; a fetish creature of latex. And now, with one more kicking jerk of John’s body, her dungeon temper burned every last ounce of exhaustion from her proud, womanly, slick body, and her mind filled with venomous rage. She could have been doing something else this weekend; maybe should have found a nice girl and the two of them could have been eating each other’s pussies out. Or perhaps she could have been sleeping, which she loves just as much as domination.
Mistress Ariel rose from her side of the bed; her corset forced her to use her hands to proper herself up. Immediately, John turns his head towards her and sighs in relief; he had been making that racket to get her attention. She didn’t look at him as her thick-heeled pumps found the tiled floor, and she stood up to her full, augmented height glory. If she had looked at him, before or during her walk around the bed to get on his side, even with her shaded gas mask lenses obscuring her eyes and latex-covered face, John would have known she is pissed off. All he thought about is himself and the belief that relief is coming.
Reaching him, Mistress Ariel pulls the sheet spread off of his trembling latex body and proceeds to unbuckle his legs. She undoes the belts folding his legs, pressing his calves against his hamstrings of his thighs, and let him stretch those legs out so she could undo the belts gluing them together. He wiggles his legs in anticipation as she rolls him on his stomach and undoes the crotch strap. He spreads his legs, letting the crotch strap drop between them; that strap had also become unpleasant to his cock and balls, even though it kept his dick in a forced state of erection. She unzips the rear zipper to John’s cat suit, exposing his fuzzy ass and the deeply buried butt plug that had kept him in a solid state of constipation.
Unbuckling the strap gag, Mistress Ariel removes the tiny strap that pulled John’s mouth tight and caused him to obsessively drool. He says, after licking his dry lips, “Thank you, Mistress.”
Mistress Ariel says nothing as she grabs John by his legs and draws them over the floor to get him to stand up. As he does, she kicks his legs apart and makes him bend over. He figures she still has to remove the butt plug, not questioning her reasoning for standing him up: she could have done it when he was lying down. Instead, just as he presents his ass to her and wiggles his ensnared arms in the straightjacket, she leaves him there. John does nothing until she hears the door to the room open and shut. He stands up slowly; the butt plug’s magic working on his bowels, warning him that a sudden move is not prudent at this point.
After a few minutes, Mistress Ariel comes back into the room and gives John a shove to bend back over. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Bend over!” she orders him directly, roaring through the muffling effect of her gas mask. She grabs the back of his neck and applies pressure to it to make him bend over more, until his upper body is almost lying back down on the bed. “Don’t you fucking move!”
Aroused, John complies without any more complaint. Meanwhile, Mistress Ariel parts her dress to expose why she left the room. She sports her favorite strap on dildo, with its four point strap system and butterfly vibrator for her puss built into the panty portion of the device. She figures there is still plenty of lube in his ass from the butt plug insertion.
When she removes the butt plug, John nearly has an orgasm. The smell got his attention about the same time Mistress Ariel’s gloved hands came into view; one grabbing his lower jaw hard; the other pressing the used butt plug against his mouth.
“Nomphf! Whaft!” he complains as he struggles against her.
“Open your fucking mouth, Bitch!” she orders him. Just as John stands up, Mistress Ariel reaches between his legs, through the zipper opening in his cat suit, and pulls his so hard on his cock and balls he bends back over. “BEND! OVER!”
John did with tears in his eyes, but she did not let go for quite a few seconds. When she does, she grabs his jaw off the bed and press the butt plug against his mouth. Again he resists, but slowly he relents. She tells him slowly, “You keep this in your mouth! Open! OPEN!”
Relenting, John soon regrets it. He can’t spit the butt plug out for Mistress Ariel finishes the shove in by gripping his face with her hand, pressing it in and keeping it in. She pulls his head back, but uses her other hand to pull his family jewelry to keep the rest of his body bent over.
Mistress Ariel said vehemently, “Now you keep that in your mouth until I remove it!” She let go of his face. She pulls him up with a grunt and orders, “Stand up! Lift that pretty little ass of yours, Bitch!” She gave his balls a punch to make him stand fully and unbalanced in his high heels. “Spread those legs of yours, girlfriend! Spread them!” He did; she just kept spreading them wider.
John did not know she is wearing her dildo until after Mistress Ariel turns it on and inserts it into his ass. He shakes his head. She slaps his nuts and hauls his ass back up by the straps of the straight jacket and inserts her humbling rod into his stretched ass.
Mistress Ariel says nothing and gives him no warm up, treating him like a sleeping housewife who husband as just woke her up for a surprise fuck. To John’s shock, he finds himself bucking like he is fucking a girl, his dick swinging about and getting hard, only the girl is fucking him. He tries again to bend his way out of the situation, which is easy given he could not stand up. A man’s center of gravity is not in their pelvis like a woman’s is; wearing six inch heels that did not support his weight easily made staying bent over standing impractical. The Dominatrix just grabs him with arms wrapping around his churning stomach and pulls him back up. She makes him bend at the knees a little, gets herself under his ass, and continues to pound away at his abused sphincter.
The only clear sounds in the fucking are John’s continuous cries with every thrust of Mistress Ariel’s strong thrusts. She is used to exertion like this, even with the gas mask. Confident in his leg strength, she just holds onto the straightjacket straps that kept his arms bounds to him and continues to pound away. Her vibrator supplying an equal amount of motivation relative to her anger, she builds up her pace and rhythm, working her way to having her pelvis eventually spank his ass. She is bound and determined not to stop until she makes him cum from this.
For his part, John tries and fails in smaller doses to get out of this. The humiliation does not give him the strength to overcome the straightjacket of Mistress Ariel’s grip on him. He settles for a small victory by working the shit-flavored butt plug out of his mouth. It is not easy; the plug is a large one that required his mouth to open pretty damn wide to get it in. He growls and lets his mouth loosen, letting the force of sex and his tongue push it out, and finally it came out.
Mistress Ariel did not notice the butt plug is out at first, even as John’s moans are much louder and much clearly to her ears. It isn’t until he says, “Oh, please Mistress, stop. Please, I’m sorry.” That she realizes the truth.
She does stop, but she sees what is done and says nothing. Mistress Ariel withdrew from John’s anus and grabs the plug and puts it back in; it goes in easily, thanks to the dildo enlarging the hole. She pulls the crotch strap back over it, and pulls it up so tight John cries out in shock.
Wedgie firmly established Mistress Ariel pulls John to the floor, making him drop to his knees. Pulling him to sit up erect by his slave collar, she takes her free hand to hold her dildo and orders, “Open up!”
“Mistress, what have I done-?” But he stops to turn his head left and right as she just presses.
“Open your fucking mouth, or so help me I will shove needles in your prick!” Mistress Ariel grips his jaw. “Come on! Open! That’s it!” He finally relents and she plunges her dildo in his mouth. “Suck it, Bitch! Suck your shit off my dick!” He goes slowly, but she uses both his hands to make work. “Work it, fucker! Work it, you cocksucker!”
Having never sucked any cock before, John just slid his mouth over the fake member, feeling the power of Mistress Ariel’s thighs driving it in and drilling his teeth. The taste on the butt plug had gone away from his drool washing it; now he wishes he never spat it out as he sucked a rubber cock that just came from his ass.
“Don’t fucking cheat,” she says. “All the way down. I know you want the girls to go all the way down. You go all the way down until you kiss my balls.” Eventually, Mistress Ariel begins to pull his head more towards her pelvis. John gags and pulls off; she just grabs him and pulls his mouth back on. “Don’t you stop working my cock, Baby, suck it dry! You better suck it dry or I’ll face fuck you.”
John closes his eyes to comply. She slaps his face, takes him off her cock, and makes him look at her. “Look at me. Eyes open.” She shoves him back on her cock, and then takes him off when he looks down. “Look at me! Get those pretty little blue eyes on mine and wrap that whore mouth of yours on my cock! Get to work, Beautiful!”
Complying, John looks up at her. Mistress Ariel slowly grinds her hips as his mouth is coming down. She caresses his head and says, “Get this good and wet, Porn Star because I’m going to fuck your ass until you cum. That’s it, oh yes!” She caresses his head more and tells him, “This is what you wanted. You’re so fucking hot. You wanted me to treat you like this, not just tie you up. Yes you did. Oh yes, such a naughty little Bitch cocksucker.”
Withdrawing from his mouth, Mistress Ariel put her thumb in it and kept it open. She told him, “You kept me up all night with your bullshit. I should have known it was too fucking hot for you: all that sexual energy the bondage and torment created. I should have fucked you like this before I bound you up; wear your ass down. Well, we’re correcting that oversight, aren’t we?”
John is lifted by his collar and bent over again. She undoes the crotch strap, removes the butt plug, and just shoves it violently back in his mouth. Mistress Ariel wraps both her hands over his mouth and orders, “Now keep it in there, or you will really regret it if it comes out again! I’m almost finished!”
John nods, but Mistress Ariel just keeps her hands over his mouth and uses his head; controlling him, and magically guiding her dildo back into his ass. She picks up where she left off, driving it in, pulling his head back in the process to gain more leverage. His knees buckle and he falls on the bed; she just pulls him up and forces him to stand. She lets him raise his upper body slightly upward, and when that happens, Mistress Ariel finally gets to slapping her pelvis against his ass.
As Mistress Ariel attempting to fuck his throat from the other end, John felt his cock stiffen hard. She had found an angle in which both her cock would do the most arousing, and his cock could swing and imitating fucking. Suddenly the pain in his ass thrills him. His heart is racing uncontrollably as he hears her hissing breaths in the gas mask; the vibrator, and the action, had made her cum and she is close to climax. She relentless, striving to only fuck him, fuck him until his voice changes and he grows tits and loses his cock and just continuously cums under her assault.
He’s close….
She’s close….
Finally, they fall forward together, still attached by her dildo in his ass. The two are panting. He manages to spit out the butt plug from his mouth so he could breathe, and mumble, “Fuck me, Mistress.”
Mistress Ariel gasps for breath but refuses to remove her gas mask. She lies there, shuddering, stifling the moan that wants to escape her tightening throat as her body convulses one last time. She pushes herself off him, feeling elation and exhaustion. She grabs the butt plug and shoves it back in and belts the crotch belt back in place, tightly bounding up his crotch.
“Ouch, Mistress? Wait?” John tries to sit up because he can’t stand, but she shoves him back down. She proceeds to quickly bind his legs up. “Mistress? Ariel, wait! What’s going on? I was about to….and then you stopped.”
Mistress Ariel rolls him on his stomach and lashes his legs together, calves to back of thighs.
“Ariel, I was about to fucking burst!” cried John. Suddenly, the strap gag is pulled between his gaping mouth and belted tight. “Wahf, Ariefl! Fuff!”
Mistress Ariel left John in the bed, leaving the room, returning shortly without her prized strap on dildo, but a gas mask and posture collar in her hands. She forces his head up and puts the stiff collar around his neck, locking it place with the padlock. Finally, she pulls the gas mask on over his quivering, latex face, forcing his wails to a mumble.
With a tiresome sigh, Mistress Ariel sits beside John’s frustrated and bound form and begins to cover up his gas mask’s air intake port. In seconds he struggles, and then she lets him breathe. This goes on for a while until he learns quickly to stop moving, and stop whining.
Grateful sigh escaping her gas mask, Mistress Ariel grabs the digital alarm clock on the night stand next to John. It reads 4:34 A.M. She shows him the set wake up time to be 8:00 A.M. She slowly, with her latex fingers, adjusts the time to 12:30.
“Now,” she says, as the numbers on the clock tick slowly, “that we have done what I wanted to do, we will do what you wanted to do: eight hours sleeping in latex bondage bliss.” He shakes his head no. She stops adjusting the clock and covers the intake port with her gloved hand. “That’s eight hours of sleeping, resting, and above all else not moving or making a sound; not even snoring. A big Dom like me needs her beauty sleep; when she doesn’t get it, she gets grouchy. You have seen me grouchy.”
She lets go, and he greedily sucks in whatever air he can. Mistress Ariel continues to adjust the clock. “I don’t care how long it takes, but we will complete this Scene, John, while I get my beauty sleep. I don’t care if you sleep. All you have to do is just lay there; do not move; do not make a sound. Because if you do, I will be really grouchy.”
She sits the clock down and turns her whole focus on him. Very carefully, she teases about covering up his intake port again. “And if I get really grouchy, I will sit on your face until you pass out. I will then call some gay friends of mine over, and you can show them the new skills I just taught you. Would you like that, John?”
John shakes his head no.
“And,” she adds, “We will reset the clock every single time. Every time you make a sound, move, or just piss me off, we’ll burn that sexual energy you got off, and reset the alarm to wake up eight hours from that time. Do you understand me?”
John does not nod his head.
Mistress Ariel nuzzles him, knowing John understands. She pulls the sheets back over him, up to his neck, and gives him a pretend kiss on the side of his face. She ignores the sweat and pussy juice pulling on her flesh and latex as she glides triumphantly around to her side of the bed. She lays on her back, using her arms to guide her gently because her corset won’t let her bend so easily. In position, she lets her dark eyes behind the dark lenses of her gas mask close.
She counts her orgasms until she falls asleep.
And wisely, John does not disturb her slumber.