My outfit for the night: my black wrap dress, my red nighty underneath, some chainmail, and my boots.
We arrived for the party at 9:15pm. Instead of being bubbly and happy, as I was earlier that day, I was nervous. But, for me, this was par for the course. We showed our registration chains and were let right in. Again I only carried in two bags, a third filled with rope left in my car’s trunk, just in case.
We stepped into the classroom, which had now be thoroughly transformed into a large play space for the evening. It took me only a moment to see him in the far corner of the room.
“There he is. See you later, guys.” I walked slowly towards Gray.
Approaching, I said hi and dropped my things. I sat just across from him on a small coffee table, putting my knees together, my hands resting on my sides off the edge of the table. I could see he had a few bags himself. My mind wondered for a moment on the things he had planned for tonight.
He wore a button down shirt, jeans, and a pair of boots. Next to him were his leather chaps and a leather vest, along with a second pair of boots on the floor. He knew just how to pique my interest.
Gray asked me if I had any other plans for the evening. I, in fact, did not. He excused himself to go change; I prepped my kit on the floor.
As I sat back on the table and waited, a question arose: Should I wear my boots through the scene? I had asked Murphy previously, and he thought it would be sexy. As I sat waiting for Gray, I turned to DeepEnd, who relaxed on a nearby sofa. I asked his opinion. He thought I shouldn’t wear them. My boots gave me power, he explained, which could possibly mess with the dynamic Gray and I had. I knew he was right. I began unlacing them.
Just as I started, Gray reappeared, wearing just his leathers. I continued to remove my boots, finally finishing and putting them to the side. In an instant, it felt like we had started.
Gray asked for his the cigar, the tubed one I’d purchased for him at FetFest. I retrieved it from my cigar box and handed it to him. He removed the cigar from the tube and gave the tube back to me to keep. Through our scene, when I dared to catch a quick glance at him, he held that cigar in his lips, the one I’d bought him. I carry it as a very sexy memory.
I stood, and asked Gray if he wanted a show. He replied he normally wanted to take my clothes off of me, but please, this time, give him a show.
I remembered the lesson he taught me, remembered how he liked it. I slowly pulled out the bow, slowly opened the dress to reveal the nighty, laid the dress on the floor where I’d be working, pulled the lingerie over my head, unsnapped the bra, and finally stood there, naked, for him.
He had me spin around, slowly, and stop once my back was to him. He stood, just behind me. As I had disrobed for him, he had taken out a length of rope. He now ran that rope over my body.
He began his tie, around one side of my chest, under one arm. I knew the tie as he created it, the same harness he had had on me earlier, the new one he’d learned from the Berlin Grue, his new favorite. He weaved the rope around me, his body heat always so close to mine. I sunk into the feeling, the connection.
The chest harness finished, he used the remainder of the rope to loop around my neck, cutting off my breathing. I released my will to his biding. Giving me air once again, he sat back down and asked me to continue turning. I stopped again, standing in front of him, naked save for his rope.
Leaning up, he smacked my crotch, and wound the last length of his rope through my pussy lips. Finding just the right spot, he gave me a happy knot, and attached the rope back to the harness, cinching it tight.
“Get to work.”
I gingerly lowered myself to the floor, feeling every inch of my movements as the rope pressed against my ass crack, against my labia, against my clit.
I started with his boots. I gingerly encouraged his right boot onto my thigh. I massaged the leather, feeling for dry spots, but also feeling his foot underneath the barrier. I poured the water into my saddle soap lid. I took my dobber, dipped it into the water, then the soap, then the water, then the soap again. I applied the cleaner, the cool liquid dripping from his boot onto my thigh. I felt him press his weight into my flesh. Putting the dobber aside, I worked the soap into his boot, making sure to cover every inch of the material.
Gray reached down, attached a length of rope to my crotch piece, and yanked. I gasped, but made myself continue. He brought his left boot onto my other thigh, pressing still harder into me. I breathed deep; I continued.
Grabbing my towel, I wiped down his boot, making sure to remove all of the soap and water. I again applied saddle soap, massaged the material, and wiped it all away with my towel again. I then brought his boot to my chest, to which he pressed still further. Reaching for my toothbrush, I cleaned the catwalk around his boot, making sure to remove all soap with my towel once more. I repeated this process for his left boot, as well.
With his boots now clean, I asked Gray if I could kiss them. He gave me permission to do so. I gingerly laid on my stomach, brought my face to his right boot, and began kissing. My hands massaged the leather; my face caressed it. I switched to his left boot, giving it equal treatment. Back and forth, I kissed and caressed his leather, happy to be at his feet, happy to have been given the opportunity to love on his boots.
I could feel him move around and grab something out of his bag. He rubbed the cool object over my body; I recognized the form. He then hit me with his Brat Bat on my ass. I yelped, but went back to loving his leather. With every stroke, of which there were one or two dozen, I screamed, and then caressed his boots further.
Next, he pulled out the implement I hated the most, his Twisted Bitch. I had forgotten about that horrible, horrible object, the sting, the pain. He whipped it across my back and ass. With it, too, I screamed with each blow. But I would not leave his boots. I would not stop caressing his leather.
He finished with my favorite of his tools, his Whomping flogger, thuddy and delicious across my back and ass, like the pulsing turns on a roller-coaster.
Finished with his toys, I forced myself to stop loving on his boots; I could’ve stayed there all night, but I had work to complete. I again gingerly guided his right boot onto my thigh and began conditioning the leather with my Huberd’s.
There was not a minute, a moment that passed in which Gray did not torture me in some way. He yanked on my crotch rope repeatedly. He pressed his boot into my flesh. At one point, Lqqkout came over to sit and chat with him. He marveled at the ease and pleasure of a well placed crotch rope.
Gray, wondering how his manipulations effected me, asked which of his pains hurt more. A: His yanking on the rope, or B: His boots pressed into my breasts. He yanked and pressed. Yanked and pressed. A or B? A or B? I said I didn’t know, because they both hurt so much. He would not take that for an answer, pressing and yanking still harder.
“A! A!” I finally screamed. He placed his boots back on my thighs and let me continue.
After applying ample shoe grease, paying close attention to dry and problem spots, I wiped away the excess and was ready to move on.
I asked him what he wanted me to treat next. He had another pair of boots, but he also wore his chaps and vest. I ended up moving on to the chaps.
Gray continued to sit, so I worked the front of his thighs, along with all of his calves. Once again, I applied the saddle soap, massaged it in, and then wiped away the liquid. The avoid splashing him, I laid my towel over his exposed crotch as I worked.
When I finished what I could from the ground, I asked him to stand. I was now eye level with his cock, which had not yet woken up. I began washing the areas of his chaps I could not reach.
As I moved back and forth, one leg to the other, getting in close to the leather, at first my hair brushed up against his cock. Then, my nose, or my cheek. He began to perk up. As I wiped away the soap from his right leg, I held my body in close to his, and could feel his cock against my cheek. I longed to have it in my mouth, but I knew it was not my place to take it.
Gray’s hand found my hair, and began massaging my scalp. I started to float away. I tried my best to concentrate on my leather, to continue to wipe away the saddle soap, to continue my work.
Without notice, he gripped my strands and held my face to his cock. Holding his dick with his other hand, he ran the tip across my face, then over my lips, then forced it inside my mouth. I began licking and sucking eagerly. He pushed and pulled my head over his cock, then guided my face down to his balls. I enjoyed one, then the other, his hand pushing me into him. He pulled my face up again and cock slapped me hard, multiple times, shaking my face this way and that.
He released my hair and I was allowed to enjoy his cock freely, slowly riding up and down the shaft with my mouth, enjoying being full of him.
Abruptly, he grabbed my hair again and quickly shoved himself far into my throat. I gagged, again and again, as his fucked my face. I was awash in the pleasure of submitting to his will, of being so his in that moment, of my mouth being so full of his cock.
Finished with my mouth, he beckoned me to move on to his vest. I explained I had not yet conditioned the leather of his chaps. He then slapped me twice and pinched my nipple hard.
“Look at you, so easily distracted. Focus, and get back to work.”
I again massaged Huberd’s into his leather, running my hands down the length of his legs. I smoothed out the dryness; I worked in the conditioner.
Finished with his chaps, his vest now remained. I felt the leather of his vest and found it was very dry, especially around the front of the shoulders. Stepping behind him, I saw he had a large ornamental piece on the back. This I would not touch and made pains to avoid.
I again started with the cleaning. Standing, however, brought on new challenges. Each time I bent down to get more soap, my crotch rope hurt just that much more. I winced and wined with my movements. Gray took the opportunity to still yank on my crotch rope, but also pinch my nipples. I made myself continue.
Gray then yanked on my crotch rope furiously, no moment of ease. I yelped and screamed, pleasure and pain ever bound in my cunt.
“How does it feel?”
“Pleasure and painful.”
“Can you come from this?”
“I don’t think so. It hurts too much.”
“That’s too bad.”
Gray began slapping my cunt with his hand, hard smacks, one after the other. In an instant, my cunt was hot with pleasure, but I could not find the words to beg him to keep going, to beg him to not stop, to beg him to let me cum. As soon as I relished in the pleasure of his hand thumping my pussy, he took it away, a delicious opportunity lost.
I went back to working on his leather. I finally realized, when I was working on the back of his vest, that I could kneel down instead of bending to have less effect on the crotch rope.
I was soon conditioning his vest, taking great care on the front of the shoulders. As I was close to finishing, I explained that all I needed was a minute for the Huberd’s to sit on a particularly dry small patch to let it soak in.
“Okay, a minute.” Gray grabbed me by my hair and spun me around. He quickly untied the knot holding my crotch rope in place. He then wiped the rope off from between my legs. I gasped from the pain. He looped the rope around my chest and tucked it into the harness. He turned me back around and bade me finish. I wiped away the excess Huberd’s to complete my work.
Gray was ready to smoke his cigar. I politely asked if I could light it for him. He said I could, if I cleaned up quickly and came outside with him. I hurriedly threw my clothes back on and gathered up my things. With my water bottle in tow, along with my cigar box, I followed Gray outside.
We stood around with Lochai, and Zelda and her friend, all of them enjoying their tobacco. Gray held the cigar for me to wet. My lips encircled the end and I licked it eagerly. I then pulled out my cutter and nipped the tip. Retrieving my lighter from my cleavage, I held the flame for Gray. He spun his cigar, lighting it all around.
The conversation meandered. Lochai had purchased a Cigar Station app, which played music supposedly suited for cigar smoking. Gray had an Ex email him questions about the porn industry. He started his voice recording app, and Gray and Lochai were able to answer her questions. The Q&A complete, Gray messaged the file to her. Zelda commented on the large amount of empty cigar boxes she had. I requested a few, to which she gave me an entire bag full of them, six in all. Lochai talked about a particularly interesting moment with a woman he’d met on set who, subsequently, didn’t remember his face when they met again. All the while, I stood by Gray’s side, enjoying the camaraderie.
On occasion, Gray rolled his ash into his hand, and I licked and sucked it up for him. Lochai, asking very politely, requested from Gray the use of his ashtray. Instead Gray suggested they reprise a moment from Rope Camp. Gray and Lochai intermingled their ash and I ate it. Later Lochai, with a nice amount of ash on the end of his cigar, which he’d let cool, instructed me to tilt my head back as he flicked the treat into my mouth.
With Gray’s cigar finished, he asked me to hold it as it slowly went out. He then ran his fingers into my hair and began massaging my scalp and pulling on my strands. I was lost, again.
Soon, though, we made our way back inside. Gray and I headed over into our corner.
It was getting late, almost 1am. Our bootblacking scene had taken two hours, and we spent another hour outside. Gray was tired and needed to go. He collected his things in preparation.
Finished with gathering all of his bags, I presented him with the first of two gifts. I reached into my cigar box, and then looked up at him. He turned around, knowing I wanted to surprise him. I quickly pulled the bag out and told him the coast was clear.
“Since I won’t see you for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Years…” I brought the bag to my front. “Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.” I gave Gray three different Java cigars: Latte, which he’d enjoyed that last night on his friend’s back porch, Mint, for the holiday season, and Maduro, a medium body flavor. He was shocked and pleased, giving me a big hug, and promising me to enjoy each on a holiday.
One gift deserving another, again, Gray informed me he had two gifts for me. The first had been his book, which he’d given to me earlier that day during his office hours. The second was the rope I still wore. It was raw hemp, suitable for dying or treating as I wished.
Gray then made the rounds of friends, hugging everyone goodbye. I had my jacket on, ready to help him out. He returned to our corner and we walked to his car. I assisted him in getting everything inside, and he gave me one more hug goodbye. Then I gave him his last gift, a bar of gluten free dark chocolate. Yes, I had remembered.
He told me to take care of me; I said I would. He started to walk to the driver’s seat.
Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and turned him back. I kissed him lightly on the lips.
“Bye for now.”
“Bye for now.” He got into his car; I headed back towards the Dungeon. I waited til he pulled off, waving to him as he left.
Inside, the party was winding down. Murphy was just starting a scene with Ten. I lingered by the front, not knowing what to do next. I made my way towards the couch.
Slut came over and gave me a hug. She asked me how I was doing. I said I didn’t know, and that it would have been nice if DeepEnd were still here so he could beat on me so I could cry.
Slut, every the great Sis, targeted the “Easy Button” on my harness. She hit it, again, and again, and again, until I allowed myself to cry. I felt better afterwards. We then sat on the couch to watch Murphy work.
I remarked, as we sat, that I wanted to dance. The Dungeon music had been excellent and I felt in the mode to express myself. She took a pole, Ammre took a pole, and I took a pole as we danced to a senuos song.
Hungry, Slut bought herself and me a slice of pizza. Downing the food quickly, Murphy’s scene was finishing up. Slut and I chatted with Lochai, as we explained and demonstrated an awesome fucking scene from earlier that evening. Lqqkout came over and I nuzzled his beard with my cheek. Slut then introduced Lqqkout to my latest Easy Button, to which he took full advantage in a mini-scene of me against the chain link fence and his fist pounding my chest.
Settling back onto the couch, in preparation to watch Murphy and Slut’s scene, we all got the bad news: the Dungeon closed at 2am, not 3am. We gathered up our things, said our goodbyes, gave our hugs, and headed out.
We ended up crashing at the hotel around 2:30am. We woke up at 6:30am the next day, home again before noon, a New Yorker in tow.
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