[MF] Becoming My Landlord’s Pet (Part Twenty Two)

The moans from the stranger before me was the only way I knew I was doing a good job of *sucking cock*. I tried my best to keep the mess to a minimum, not wanting to spend the rest of my weekend smelling spit and sex through my hood, but I failed miserably, especially when my head was held firmly in place as my mouth was used as if it were simply a socket for hard cock.

When the blowjob wasn’t forceful, I did my absolute best to swirl my tongue around the head, kiss up and down the shaft in my own personal darkness, and flicked my tongue on the strangers smoothly shaved balls as I deep throated his member. Girthy, but short, allowed me to work a little easier and choke on it less like I otherwise would have trying to slide the whole thing in my mouth. Laughter elicited from the gentleman before me as I backed away from my blowjob and rubbed my rubber mitts on his cock, a poor excuse for a handjob. My big rubber tits were felt up and squeezed, my cage was tapped and gripped and slapped around and laughed at, and yet I still dripped from it. Humiliation is one hell of a fetish to get off on.

I heard mumbling, a sentence was spoken but the sounds from my lips sliding on hard dick drowned them out, and before I knew it hot cum was hitting the back of my throat and hands were again forcefully holding my hooded head in place as strands of the sticky orgasm was swallowed. Salty, thick, humiliating.

Before I could catch my breath, the panel was snapped back onto my hood. I heard the belt to this man’s jeans getting buckled and his footsteps shuffle away from me, presumably to leave. Did Michelle just invite a total stranger to use my mouth? It all happened so fast, I sat upright on the cot before laying back down, this time on my side as I felt my boots and fake tits myself, adjusted my cage and tried to get the taste of cock from my mouth.

Time passed slowly, but I couldn’t spend it in a daze since my movement was far less limited than the day (?) prior. I sat upright, I laid down, sometimes on my side or on my back, but never on my stomach, The rubber breasts were too big. Between the boots contorting my feet into an aching position and the corset and collar simply made my posture too rigid.
She returned. I could smell her perfume as she pressed close to me and kissed my chastity, her soft hands rubbing my balls, flicking them, pinching them, and finally unlocking my cage. I was hard in an instant, ready for use, for torture, for ruined orgasm or none at all.

My legs were spread as my sex dangled free, cuffed to the bed or to the cement floor, I was unsure as my ballet boots and general lack of fully functioning thought process rendered the distinction impossible. A cockring was placed around my balls and over the base of my shaft, then again around just the base of my shaft, and then once more tightly around the top of my hard cock, below my head. I heard a few snaps, her fingers caressing me as she worked, almost humming to herself. Something was attached to the rubber rings that adorned me, once I realized they were wires I knew exactly what I was in store for. I experienced e-stim and electro play weeks prior in the sack. But that seemed like a cakewalk compared to what I was forced to endure now.

My mitts were locked behind me, which at least help me support myself and the strictness of the corset.

The pins and needles that were then sent coursing through my hard dick and swollen balls was a wave of physical pleasure and pain. I winced, drew deep breaths, and let out more than a few “oh fucks..” which were met with a slap to the face full of force. I knew gimps didn’t talk, but my dick was being electrocuted. If my last experience was ‘medium’, this was extreme. I swear it felt as if my balls would burst whenever that current kicked on and surged through me poor, swollen, aching sex. To make matters worse, just as I thought I couldn’t take any more and the current was subside, I swear I was ready to come. Then the buzzing would arrive again, slow at first and ramping up to its fullest power. Straining, flexing against the rubber rings, daring me to shoot an orgasm, and then it would all disappear and start back over. I was pushed backwards and mounted, the panel once again becoming unsnapped and replaced by the soaking wet twat of Michelle. Instinctively my tongue went to work immediately on the clit of my Owner. This was the wettest I had ever experienced her, clearly the e-stim put her over the edge, and before long she was screaming as loud as I ever heard her as my tongue lapped up her pussy juices from her lips and flicked her clit left to right, up and down, swirling around. She ramped up the current, I groaned and grunted into her pussy as my cock readied to burst, and then I heard the magical words.

“Come for me!”

I exploded. A load so big it was met with laughter. Stored up and teased mercilessly since. I came for what felt like minutes, humiliating, hands-free. I shook and tensed up as the last remaining drops dribbled from my head, a few more strands leaked out as the electro rings were removed.

“Such a good boy. I am so proud of you. I didn’t think you could last this long, but here you are!”

Waves of pleasure subsided over me, I couldn’t believe this experience was over. I really spent 72 hours, hooded, practically deaf. All senses lost, reality didn’t exist outside of the small, dark space between my eyes and the hood. I ached, I wanted to shower, have a meal that wasn’t bites of granola and water and gatorade. I wanted to *see Michelle*, tell her how hot that was, how arousing and wild and *fucking crazy*. I was so proud of myself, I grinned wide, stretched in my suit. I was machine fucked to a hands free anal orgasm, rented out as a mouth to a faceless, nameless stranger that deposited a load of cum directly down my throat.

“You’re the best, are you excited for what’s next? I know I am!”

I was, what else could this woman possible have in store for the rest of our time together, if a 3 day gimp weekend wasn’t the grand finale.

I nodded my head up and down, still waiting for permission to speak. I felt a warm wash cloth on my cock, cleaning up the plethora of come from my spent orgasm.

“Well, you’re halfway home, my little gimp. It’s a little passed nine at night on Saturday, you’ve been perfect….”

My heart sank, I felt sick, defeated, frustrated. Michelle must have noticed my body language, I sulked, my shoulders went from upright to slumped over. I wanted this fucking collar off me, I wanted to hear something that wasn’t muffled, I wanted to *touch something with my fingers*. I cursed myself for thinking I was done. How could I have gotten ahead of myself?

“Oh, you thought your weekend was done? Oh, how *fucking silly* of you! It will be done when I say it’s done, you know the magical words that free you, but you and I both know you are just lapping this up, you pathetic, degraded bondage doll…..”

She left. I clearly upset her, and I was being punished. My cock was still free from the cage, so I knew I had disappointed her greatly. I felt ashamed. Tears came on, welling up underneath my hood made it all the more pathetic. On top of everything, I had just achieved an orgasm and was no longer riding the high of not only a job well done, but also of arousal.

I was at a breaking point.

I reflected, this woman left me in this state, in all this gear, in this god forsaken basement of fetish and debauchery, and here I was sad and crying because I clearly upset her. I wanted to plead out loud. I couldn’t. I knew that would only make matters worse. I had two options: use a safeword, and disappoint myself and Michelle even more. Or deal with my bondage, my legs still spread and bound tightly and far apart.

I chose option two, despite my sniffling, pathetic cries.

When Michelle returned she sat next to my bound body and rubbed my head, my shoulders and my back for a few seconds, soothing me.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” She asked, dominance in her tone was replaced with care and concern. I couldn’t shake my head no, the posture collar wouldn’t allow it. I chose to stay quiet.

“That’s what I thought, all that sulking and crying for nothing. Puppies may have emotion with all that barking and whimpering you would showcase upstairs for me, but gimps don’t have emotions, so if you think you can pull that again, you are sadly mistaken, fuckdoll”

I was placed on all fours, my elbows touching the cold coment and my forearms parallel to the ground. Cuffs of steel or metal were fastened and latched around my wrists, biceps and neck once the collar was removed. My thighs followed, then my calves and ankles. A padded bench of some sort was adjusted to give my corset’d waist support, my balls were hugged tight by something cold and metal, pulled taught and away from my body. They were clearly on display for a reason, once in their own bondage Michelle took to wrapping them in twine, splitting my testicles and turning them into shiny eggs as she separated both and tied them off tight. Her lips were cold as she kissed and popped each into her mouth, flicking and pinching my skin with her nails sent a slow rolling pain into my stomach.

The hood was removed. The hot air of cock and spit I was breathing was replaced by cool, refreshing deep breaths of revitalization. My eyes wouldn’t focus for one minute, I spent 36 hours in the dark and I could manage but a squint before another hood of latex and darkness slipped over my head, at least this one left my mouth free, covering my eyes and nose, breathing would be free of obstruction and far less labored. Or so I thought.

The metal spider gag was the widest I had ever had my mouth gagged before, it rattled off my teeth and came to rest shoved deep into my mouth. It was bitter to taste, my tongue tasting the metallic ring as Michelle fastened the head-harness portion of said gag around my latex head. As if I couldn’t get any more bound up, as if the bondage wasn’t strict enough at this point, the anal hook only exacerbated the issue, pushing me to the limits of bondage I thought I had already experienced.

The anal hook was just another piece of metal I was subjected to. It wasn’t so much being plugged up again, it was the strap that Michelle ran from the ring stop the headharness gag to the ring at the end of the anal hook. My head was snapped back, neck cocked upwards. I drooled immediately, spittle running down my chin and pooling on the cement floor before my Owner had properly secured the straps onto their buckle. I had to catch my breath because I felt like I just got punched and had the wind taken out of me, this was no nonsense. My limbs could rattle the metal cuffs, but that was it.

I was in the most extreme of bondage. Michelle squeezed my tits, patted me on the head, and slapped my welted ass.

“I’ll be back, gimp” I could tell she shut the lights off, the hood allowed in just enough.

I was in the dark, figuratively, literally, emotionally.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/92llqi/mf_becoming_my_landlords_pet_part_twenty_two