He is of course the dustbin of the group. A useful commodity and one that will be used in a party format in the very near future.

The slave is desperate to be owned and belong fully to Me. He will do anything to prove his worth in a bid to please Me and I am pleased to say that I managed to take his anal virginity AND pierce a nipple which sent his adrenaline levels through the roof with genuine fear and panic mingling with the pain.

I was very proud that he was moved to such a high level of intensity and his training will continue in the smae vein  -  with Me looking for ways to make him proove himself as I decide if he is indeed suitable to join the gang.

It became obvious during a session that stephens feet were really really sensitive to tickling on the soles. Something I stored inside My mind for later and later came the other day when I called him back to the dungeon.

Fastening him with cuffs, rope, spreader bar and chains he was pretty immobile as I set to work on him. His feet were over sensitive and he jiggled about before Me with every touch. Spanking them, scratching them, tickling them, stroking them gently – it didn’t matter what I did the reactions were the same and I’m sure slave must have felt like he had run a marathon he jived about so much dedpite being in such a confined space.

I like to feed him things. Things he doesn’t want to eat. Used tissues, old food, body lotion, anything that comes to mind really. Today he was to eat his own spunk as the grand finale. It had been built up for 8 days and would be thick and gloopy with lumps and hopefully a vast quantity to boot!

I had decided that it was time aggie was a red and black slut. One to be teased and caressed to the point of mind blowing tension.

The new skirt I had selected fitted her like a glove and coupled with the stunning red and black lengerie set was a sight to behold. Buying new clothes with a certain sub in mind is a pleasure for Me as the collared slaves are always on My mind, as a mark of responsibility to the ownership of the slaves I call My own.

Anyway there he was in all his finery looking every inch the harlot whore I desired and I wasted no time in getting her to parade around the dungeon and wiggle that arse within the clinging skirt. Soon enough I couldn’t keep My hands to Myself and just had to explore the entire body.

I started to dance with her – in the old fasioned way before slipping her into rope bodage on the cross where I let the skirt fall to the floor to reveal just her underwear.

What fun I had caressing, teasing, creating small bundles of explosive pain and massive bursts of please over every inch of her body.

The piece de resistance was using the violet wand complete with the chain attachment to stroke his flesh. He gyrated in all directions looking like he was breaking into a breakdance routine at one point which had Me laughing hysterically – not so hysterically that I couldn’t keep using teh wand on his sight restricted body. Fantastic. Laughing is such good therapy and when its one of your favourite boys creating the hilarity its somehow even better.