Rubber Slave In Facesitting And Wrestling The

The Rubber Slave in Facesitting and Wrestling – An Elaborate Naughty Tale

The dimly lit dungeon was filled with the aroma of rubber and arousal. At the center of the room, a girl in a devious black latex catsuit lounged on a throne of red velvet, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She was the Mistress, the Domme, the owner of this fetish haven. Her name was Vixen, and she was about to unleash her sadistic pleasures upon a new slave.

The door creaked open, and in stumbled a small, timid man. He was clad in a skimpy, shiny rubber bodysuit that left little to the imagination. His limbs were bound with ropes, and a rubber ball gag was firmly secured in his mouth. This was her slave for the night, her plaything to dominate as she saw fit.

Vixen wasted no time. She hopped off her throne and sauntered over to thebound man, her sharp heels clicking against the stone floor. She circled him like a predator, inspecting her prize. With a gloved hand, she reached out and pinched his rubber-clad nipples, eliciting a muffled whimper from behind his gag. “Such a pretty little slave,” she purred. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

She led him to a muscular armchair and directed him to sit. Once he was seated, she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. The rubber of her catsuit rubbed against the rubber of his bodysuit, creating a delightful friction. She leaned in close, her ample breasts pressing against his chest. “Kiss me,” she commanded.

The slave obeyed, his bound hands coming up to grip her latex-clad ass as he pressed his lips against hers. Vixen returned the kiss with fervor, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth, exploring, teasing, dominating. She bit his lower lip, drawing a small bead of blood, before pulling away.

Now that the chemistry had been established, it was time to move on to the games. Vixen slide off the armchair and assumed a wrestling stance, her lithe body ready to pounce. “I’m going to sit on your face, slave,” she growled. “You’re going to worship my pussy until I cum, or until you pass out. Whichever comes first. Got it?”

The slave nodded eagerly, a bulge forming in his confined rubber suit. He laid down on his back, his head tucked between Vixen’s latex-clad thighs. She slowly lowered herself onto his face, grinding her crotch against his mouth. The slave licked and sucked feverishly, desperate to please his Mistress. He could feel her arousal, could taste her essence through the thin barrier of her catsuit. She moaned in pleasure, her hands tangling in his hair, forcing his face harder into her crotch.

Minutes turned into hours as Vixen rode her slave’s face, grinding against him, using him for her pleasure. The slave was lost in a haze of euphoria, his world reduced to the scent and taste of his Mistress. Just as Vixen approached her climax, she pulled away, chuckling at the slave’s frustrated groans.

“Not yet, slave,” she teased. “I have so many more games to play.” Vixen ordered the slave to his feet and led him to a bondage table. She efficiently secured his limbs with shackles and cuffs, leaving him splayed out and helpless. She produced a flogger, its leather tails glistening in the low light.

Vixen circled the table, running the flogger over the slave’s rubber-clad skin. She started with light taps, building up to harder lashes. The slave writhed in his bonds, his grunts of pain and pleasure urging Vixen on. She focused on his most sensitive spots, his inner thighs and nipples, until he was begging for mercy.

Switching up her tactics, Vixen produced a long latex glove and began to insert a finger inside the slave’s rubber bodysuit, touching him in ways she knew he craved. She took her time, building him up, teasing him, until he was straining against his bonds, desperate for release. Just as he was about to cum, she withdrew, leaving him hard and aching.

The night continued in a cycle of pleasure and denial. Vixen tied her slave in a spreader bar and made him walk back and forth across the room, the bar forcing his muscles to strain and work. She attached electrodes to his rubber-covered nipples and shocked him with low-level electricity, watching him jerk and spasm. At one point, she made him eat his dinner off the floor, crawling around on his hands and knees like a dog. Always, she pushed his limits, ensuring that he experienced every shade of sensation before denying him the final release he craved.

Finally, after hours of play, Vixen decided she wanted to be satisfied once more. She untied the slave and made him kneel before her. Slowly, sensually, she unzipped her catsuit, revealing inch after inch of her Alabaster skin. When the garment finally fell to the floor, she was resplendent in all her glory, her body a map of hairless perfection.

She led the slave to the bed and made him lay down on his back. He watched in awe as she straddled him once more, her soaked pussy poised above his face. “One final chance to please me, slave,” she purred. “If you succeed, I might just let you cum as well. Understand?”

The slave nodded, his excitement clear. Vixen sank down on him, smothering him completely. She set a punishing pace, riding him hard, using him for her pleasure. The slave, despite his exhaustion, did his best to please her, his tongue lapping and sucking desperately. He could feel her muscles beginning to clench, knew she was close.

With a cry of ecstasy, Vixen finally achieved her orgasm. Her body shuddered and quaked as she ground herself against the slave’s face, reveling in her pleasure. When she finally rolled off him, she could see the determined look in his eyes. She knew what he wanted, what he needed.

“You’ve done well, slave,” she cooed, her fingers finding his confined cock. “You may cum now.” She stroked him through his suit, feeling him throb and pulse. When he finally exploded, it was with a cry of relief and gratitude, his essence soaking through the rubber of his bodysuit.

As the slave drifted into a satisfied snooze, Vixen curled up beside him, her fingers tracing his contours. It had been a long and fruitful session, filled with the many delights of domination. As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of new depths she could reach with her trusty slave the next time they played.